Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 64887 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 324(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64887 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 324(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 216(@300wpm)
While shaking my hand, the kid says, “Hello, Grayson—my mother’s friend.”
“I’m thrilled to finally meet you,” I say, releasing him. “I’ve heard great things about you.”
Drew slides his hands into his pockets and flashes his mother a snide look, even as he replies to me. “Oh yeah? That’s weird. Because my mother has said absolutely nothing about you, Grayson. Not until earlier tonight, that is.” He returns to me and smiles warmly. “At which point, I heard nothing but great things about you, too.”
We share an easy, amused grin of understanding that makes me feel certain I’m going to like this kid.
“Glad to hear it,” I say.
Selena clears her throat. “We’ll let you kids get back to watching the movie now, so you can be sure to finish before Eddie’s mom arrives.”
“And we’ll let you get back to hanging out with your friend,” Drew says, his mouth lopsided with amusement. “Oh, hey, do we have any popcorn, Mom? I looked but couldn’t find any.”
“You must not have looked too hard. I bought some last week.”
Drew flashes his mother a charming smile. “Would you make some for us, Mother Dear? Please?”
Selena chuckles. “You don’t need to pour it on quite that thick, sweetie. I’d love some popcorn, too. Come on, Grayson. I’ll show you the kitchen.”
“Bye, everyone,” I say with a clipped wave to the group, before shooting one last smile at Drew, which he, thankfully, returns with ease. In fact, if I’m not mistaken, the smile that kid is shooting me is saying, It’s about fucking time.
14
GRAYSON
“That went so well!” I whisper excitedly, following Selena out of the family room. “Drew actually smiled at me, and it didn’t look forced at all.”
Selena doesn’t speak. It’s only when we reach the kitchen that she finally says something, but it’s not in reply to my comment. “That little Casanova!” she huffs out. “He only wanted to save those girls a rental fee, did he? Ha!”
While Selena marches defiantly into the heart of her kitchen, I stop short in the doorway, too stunned by the gorgeousness sprawling before me to speak. Selena’s kitchen is enormous and gleaming—the kind featured on gourmet cooking shows and in movies about insanely wealthy people.
“Holy shit, Selena,” I murmur. “Your kitchen is right out of a movie.”
She puts her hands on her hips and spits out, “Drew thought he’d have the Playboy Mansion all to himself for his little party, did he?” She’s practically breathing fire. “The little fucker!”
I can’t help chuckling at her word choice. “For what it’s worth, Drew’s ‘party’ looked pretty damned innocent to me.”
“Innocent?” Selena scoffs. “My son intentionally lied to me—straight to my face. He said he’d be staying at Eddie’s tonight.”
“And he will be, right after his hot date.”
Selena shoots me daggers. “He lied and broke the rules.”
I shrug. “Yeah, so he and his buddy could watch a movie with a couple of pretty girls. I think that’s pretty standard stuff.”
Selena narrows her eyes. “My son can break whatever rules he wants, when he’s an adult. But he’ll follow my rules when he’s living under my roof.”
I try with all my might to bite back a smile, but it’s easier said than done. This ‘angry MILF’ side of Selena is new to me—and I’ve gotta say, it’s sexy as hell. In fact, the sight of her looking so fucking pissed about Drew’s supposedly unthinkable behavior is sending rockets of desire shooting through my bloodstream and straight to my dick.
“Fair enough,” I say before pressing my lips together in a way that says, “I’ll shut the fuck up now.”
Selena scrutinizes my features for a long beat. And then, “Okay, out with it.” She crosses her arms. “Tell me whatever it is you’re thinking.”
“I’m not a parent. I’m sure I’ve already said too much.”
“Well, don’t stop now. Tell me what you’re thinking.” She beckons. “Go on.”
I shrug. “I’m mostly thinking you’re scorching-hot when you’re infuriated. Damn, Selena. I didn’t know there was another level to your hotness. Whew!”
She blushes.
“I’m also thinking Drew isn’t quite the juvenile delinquent you’re making him out to be. If I’d had enough confidence as a teenager to speak to a pretty girl at all, let alone to invite her to my house to watch a movie, I sure as hell would have done it, even if it meant breaking one of my mother’s rules. And I’m sure I’d feel particularly justified in my lawlessness if, earlier that day, I’d discovered my mother had been hiding a boyfriend from me—aka ‘lying to me about him’—for the past six months.” I wait for her reply. And when it doesn’t come, I add, “But, mostly, I was thinking you’re hot as fuck when you’re spitting fire.”
Selena leans her hip against the kitchen island and flashes me a begrudging smile. “You think I’m hot—even in this context?”