“Damn right you do.”
Fuck, now I know how she felt at the party the other night. The possessive clench in my chest is…new. I don’t like it, but I can’t stop it, either. I’ve been playing the field since I started at Briar, but there were a few hook-ups that lasted more than one night. Girls I saw on and off, not seriously, but often enough to develop some feelings for them. None of those arrangements were exclusive, though. I was well aware that they were seeing other guys, too. And I didn’t care.
This time I do care. The idea of Grace with another guy is unacceptable. I won’t go as far as to say she’s mine, but…well, she’s mine. Mine to hold and mine to kiss and mine to laugh with.
Yup, mine.
“What time is it?” she asks. “I’m too lazy to lift my head.”
I crane my neck to get a better look at the alarm clock. “Ten thirty-two.”
“Should we finish watching the movie?”
“Sure.” I lean over to grab the laptop, which chimes loudly the moment I pick it up. “Uh…someone’s Skyping you, I think.”
She peeks at the screen, then shoots up in a panic. “Oh no. Put your pants on!”
I wrinkle my forehead. “Why?”
“Because that’s my mother!”
If I’d still had an erection, it would be deflating like a balloon right now. I hurriedly yank my pants to my hips and zip them up as Grace sets the computer in her lap. Her fingers hover over the track pad, and then she looks over at me. “Move ten inches to the left if you don’t want her to see you.”
“Do you not want her to see me?”
Grace rolls her eyes. “I’m cool if she does. Actually, she knows all about you, so you should totally say hi. But I understand if you don’t want to do the whole meet-the-parents thing right now.”
I shrug. “I’m cool with it.”
“Okay then. Brace yourself. She’s about to deafen us both with—”
A shriek of delight. The loudest frickin’ shriek on the planet.
Fortunately, her voice lowers to a manageable decibel when she speaks. “Sweetie! Yay! You answered!”
The video chat box fills the screen, revealing a very attractive blonde who seems way too young to be the mother of a nineteen-year-old. Seriously, Grace’s mother looks like she’s thirty. If that.
“Hey, Mom,” Grace says. “Do I even want to know why you’re awake at five-thirty in the morning?”
Her mother’s answering grin is downright devilish. “Who says I even went to bed?”
Grace told me that her mother is bubbly and impulsive and pretty much acts like a teenager, and I can see now that she hadn’t exaggerated.
My girlfriend groans. “Please tell me you stayed up painting and not…doing other things.”
“I take the Fifth.”
“Mom.”
“I’m forty-four years old, sweetie. Do you expect me to live like a monk?”
Forty-four? Wow. Totally doesn’t look it. Also, I can’t stop the snicker that pops out at her breezy response, which causes her brown eyes to narrow.
“Grace Elizabeth Ivers, is there a man sitting beside you? I thought that big lump was your blanket, but that’s someone’s shoulder!” Her mom gasps. “Identify yourself, sir.”
Grinning, I scoot closer so the camera can see my face. “Evening, Mrs. Ivers. Or morning, I guess.”
“Mrs. Ivers lives in Florida. Call me Josie.”
I swallow a laugh. “Josie. I’m Logan.”
Another gasp. “The Logan?”
“Yes, Mom. The Logan,” Grace confirms with a sigh.
Josie looks from me to Grace, then puts on a stern face. “Sweetie, I’d like a moment alone with Mr. Logan. Go take a walk or something.”
My alarmed gaze flies to Grace, who looks like she’s trying not to laugh. “Hey, you said it was cool,” she murmurs. Then she plants a kiss on my cheek. “I’ve gotta pee, anyway. You two go nuts.”
Panic fills my gut as my girlfriend hops off the bed and literally abandons me. Leaving me at her mother’s mercy. Fucking hell. I should have hid when I had the chance.
The moment Grace leaves the room, Josie says, “Is she gone?”
“Yup.” I gulp.
“Good. Don’t worry, kid, I’ll be quick. And I’m only going to say this once, so you’d better listen carefully. Gracie told me she was giving you another chance, and I fully supported that decision.” Josie peers into the camera, her expression glittering with menace. “With that said, if you break my daughter’s heart, I will hop on the first plane out of here, show up at your door, and beat you to death with a pillowcase full of soap bars.”
Despite the terrified shiver evoked by the threat, I can’t stop the laugh that flies out of my throat. Jesus. That’s a very specific form of violence.
But when I answer, the humor is gone and my voice is gruff. “I won’t break her heart,” I promise.
“Good. Glad that’s settled.”
And I swear, this woman has multiple personalities, because in the blink of an eye she’s Suzie Sunshine again. “Now tell me all about yourself, Logan. What’s your major? When’s your birthday? What’s your favorite color?”
Swallowing another wave of laughter, I indulge her random questions, which she spits out in rapid fire. I don’t mind, though. Grace’s mother is hilarious, and it only takes a few seconds to figure out where Grace got her sense of humor and tendency to babble incoherently.
Three minutes into the chat, Josie’s phone rings. She says she needs to take it and promises she’ll ping us right back, and then the screen goes black. I’m about to put down the laptop, but when I hear footsteps nearing the door, I suddenly have an idea.
AKA the perfect payback for Grace’s desertion.
Just as the door opens, I look intently at the screen and act like I’m still chatting with her mother. “—And she stuck her finger in my ass when she was blowing me, which was fucking incredible. I never thought I’d enjoy having anything up there, but—”
Grace screams in horror.
“Oh my God!” She dives onto the bed and grabs the laptop. “Mom, don’t listen to him! He’s just joking—” She stops abruptly, blinking at the screen before turning to glare at me. “You are such an asshole.”
I curl over with laughter, which only makes her angrier, and soon she’s batting at me with her teeny fists, as if they’ll actually do any damage.
“You’re the worst!” she yells, but she’s giggling even as she pounds those futile fists at me. “I actually thought you told her that!”
“That was the point.” I howl in laughter, then roll us both over so she’s on her back and I’m looming over her. “Sorry. Couldn’t help myself.”
Grace reaches up and flicks my forehead. “Jerk.”
My jaw drops. “Did you just flick me?”
She flicks me again.
“Did you just flick me again?”
Now she’s the one howling, because I’m tickling the shit out of her. And as she squirms on the bed and tries to escape my relentless fingers, I reach several conclusions.
One, I’ve never had more fun with a girl in my entire life.
Two, I never want this to end.