Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 69734 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69734 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
Now that I know she’s my mate, I don’t feel as demented for saving this shit. For keeping that pendant of hers in my dresser all these years.
My phone buzzes with a text, and I glance down, expecting it to be Abe or Seb or Markley.
It’s Lotta.
Please say you’re coming soon.
My lips quirk, and my dick gets chubby. It’s the first time Lotta’s texted me. For some reason, it feels like a small victory. There’s a level of comfort we crossed after the picnic.
Feeling needy?
I text back.
Yeah. Need to drown my sorrows with something better than a cocktail.
This cock is definitely better.
I pause, digesting what she said.
What sorrows?
Meh. Olive and I visited a couple of galleries in Scottsdale but they wouldn’t even look at my art. It’s fine.
It’s not fine. I want to slay dragons for her now, but I don’t imagine me charging down to art galleries in Scottsdale is going to do much good.
I was trying to finish an essay but fuck it. I’ll be right there.
I slap the laptop shut. My mom looks over from the counter where she’s meal-prepping for the next few days. “Are you finished, hon?”
“Uh, not quite. But I’m taking a break.”
“Do you have a girlfriend, Asher?” my mom asks.
Crap. I guess I haven’t been too slick about hiding where I’ve been going.
I’m not one to lie to my mom. Shifters can smell lies, so she would know, and it would only be hurtful.
“Yeah. Sort of.”
“Does sort of mean you’re slipping out to see her every night?”
I let out a chagrined chuff. “Yeah.”
My mom folds her arms over her chest. “I thought so.” She seems pleased. There’s a twinkle in her eye. It definitely wouldn't be there if she knew who I was sneaking out to see.
“Well, I’m sure I don’t need to have a discussion with you about protection, do I?”
“Definitely not,” I say quickly. “We’re good.”
“So, when do I get to meet this girl?
Never.
The only thing worse than my mom finding out I’m dating Carlotta James would be her mom finding out. Both of them would be horrified, I’m sure.
I never told my mom that I was the one responsible for my dad’s banishment–that I had told Carlotta about him stealing from the brewery. It was in a moment of anger. My dad had kicked me around before she arrived at our place, and then he embarrassed me in front of her, mocking me for needing a tutor. He called me slow, as I recall.
Carlotta defended me, correcting him. She told him I was perfectly bright, and my grades had improved greatly over the past few months.
Realizing my dad was going to be a dick to her for correcting him, I tugged her out the door, pretending that we needed a book from the library for that night’s homework.
She bought me a hamburger at the New Moon diner. I was grumpy, wanting to act out. So I threw my dad under the bus and told her about him stealing from the pack by pocketing money from parking lot fees at the brewery.
“Asher?” my mom prompts when I hesitate.
My mom and I never talked about it, but she knows Carlotta’s mom is on the council. She probably put it together who ratted my dad out.
“I don’t know, Mom. I’m not sure it’s gonna work out with this girl.”
My mom’s forehead wrinkles. “You’re spending every night with this girl,” mom points out. “It seems serious to me. Do her parents know?”
Do her parents know that she’s screwing one of her students? Uh, that would be a big no.
“No. Not yet. Like I say, mom, I don’t know if it’s gonna work out. It’s all kind of new.”
My mom throws me a skeptical look but doesn’t say anything else.
My phone buzzes with another text from Lotta.
Bring your homework, and I will help you with it.
Damn. That offer should not be so hot to me, but it rekindles that prepubescent obsession I had with her when she was my tutor. Something in my body responds as if I’m still thirteen.
I unplug the laptop and tuck it under my arm before I head out the back door. Outside, I pause, realizing my mom might be brainstorming all the houses within walking distance to our place with she-wolves my age.
Oh well. Considering she just made it clear she’s been tracking my behavior, she probably already noted that I’m leaving by the back door on foot every night.
I drop into the shadows and follow the wash up to Lotta’s casita. I find the door open. Inside, Lotta’s lit candles and has two glasses of lemon water sitting at the breakfast bar that serves as her table.
Something weird happens to my heart–a double thud, or a bounce. Something unnerving.
“Wow. Hey.” I clear my throat because it’s suddenly constricted. I walk over to where she’s sitting and cradle her face, bending down to kiss her softly.