"Yeah, call her up," Colton says.
I glare at him. A minute ago, he was all about ushering me out of here, and now I'm standing here in the middle of the living room with his mother and a whole bunch of guys from his football team talking about my dinner plans.
"Is your roommate hot?" A large guy asks, his mouth full of cookie. He's holding two more in his hands, double-fisting dessert. "Cause if she's hot, she should totally come for dinner."
"This girl is hot," another one points out. "Of course her roommate's hot. Hot girls have hot roommates."
"Enough," Colton barks, his voice hard. That silences the roommates.
Now everyone is standing here quietly, staring at me expectantly.
Fuck me.
I dial the phone, saying a silent prayer that Sable doesn't answer. She's probably out. Maybe she's on a date.
"Where are you?" Sable asks. "You don't have class on Friday afternoons. It's happy hour. That means tacos and margaritas."
"Oh, you're already at happy hour?" I ask, making a pouty face and a thumbs-down gesture for the benefit of the crowd. "By yourself? And you're waiting for me to join you?"
"Why are you talking to me in that voice?" Sable asks. "Are you drunk?"
"Of course," I say. "I don't want you to be sitting in the restaurant all by yourself. I'll be there in a few minutes."
"Are you being held hostage?" Sable asks.
"In a manner of speaking, yes."
"Cassandra’s roommate!" Colton's mother yells loudly. "Ditch the restaurant and join us for dinner."
"What about dinner?" Sable asks. "Who is that? Where the hell are you?"
I clear my throat. "I'm at Colton King's house."
Sable whoops so loudly that everyone in the room has to be able to hear it, and I quickly press the phone against my chest, trying to muffle the sound.
Colton's mother gestures for the phone and I reluctantly hand it over. "This is Colton's mother," she says. "Cassandra says you're at a restaurant by yourself, but I'm trying to convince her to invite you for dinner. Oh, well, that’s perfect! We'll set out another plate."
She hands the phone back to me and smiles sweetly.
Definitely a despot.
I put the phone back to my ear. "I'm so happy you agreed to come over here," I say, my voice falsely cheerful.
"I wouldn't miss this for the world," says Sable. "Colton's mother, huh? You guys are moving pretty quickly. When will your wedding be?"
"Shut up," I hiss. "I'll text you the address."
"Can't wait," Sable says, her voice overly cheerful.
"Well, that's that," Colton's mother chirps after I hang up. "Now, I need to get in the kitchen. Cassandra, can you handle a knife?"
I look at Colton with narrowed eyes. "Definitely," I say.
"Well come on into the kitchen with me and chop veggies for a salad," she says.
Alone time with Colton's mother? I think I might be having a heart attack. Heart palpitations, at the very least.
"I'll go too," Colton offers, following us into the kitchen. "I mean, it's kind of sexist if you two are in the kitchen cooking."
"Since when did you get concerned about being sexist?" Doreen asks, her voice teasing.
I give Colton another look. Obviously, he just doesn’t want his mother in the same room alone with me. I’m not sure whether I should be offended or relieved.
Right now, I pick relieved.
Doreen digs around in grocery bags, pulling out vegetables and setting them on the counter. Or, what is left of the counter space. Groceries cover nearly every available surface of the kitchen, their contents spilling out onto the countertops.
She catches my look. "It's enough to feed a small army, isn't it? These boys can put away enough food to feed an army." She hands me a bag of onions. "Colt and his brother practically ate me out of house and home when they were teenagers. Two gallons of milk a day between the both of them. It was a good thing we had cows on the farm, that’s for sure. Loaf after loaf of bread. I swear those children would eat five sandwiches for lunch and two hours later they'd be ready to eat again."
"Yeah, and look at me now," Colton says, flexing his biceps. "Now I'm a god among men."
I snort and roll my eyes. His mother sees it.
"Colt never had a problem with self-esteem," Mrs. K points out, chuckling as she shakes her head.
"It’s hard to have a problem with self-esteem when you're this awesome," Colton says. "You want me to unpack all of this, ma?"
"Thank you, darlin'. Pull that basil out of the bag for me and give it to Cassandra to chop. I'm going to get a sauce going here. Cassandra, now how is it tutoring my son? Don't lie to me now. I know he can be a handful."
A handful.
My thoughts go straight to what Colton's hand was full of earlier when he sat on the chair stroking his cock for me. Colton catches my gaze and I know he knows exactly what I'm thinking by the way the corners of his mouth turn up.
I clear my throat. "It's been a pleasure working with Colton."