“Hey, honey!” Mom flashes a smile at me. “Did you sleep well?”
I pull a stool by the counter and sit as she passes me a plate.
“Hmm. Smells delicious,” I compliment her cooking. Stabbing the eggs with the tines of my fork, I dig in.
“Tastes even better,” I declare with a mouth full.
Mom smiles at me. “I'm glad you like it.” Her gaze is worried as she adds, “I asked if you slept fine.”
“Oh, right. Sorry.” I swallow. “Yes, I did.”
Lies. No, I didn't sleep fine. Recently I've been getting weaker than before and a lot more tired than usual. It's a thing of concern to me but I haven't told her yet.
My mom worries too much, and I can't… I won't cause her even more concern. She's been through enough because of me already.
She takes her apron off and joins me, setting her plate on the counter.
I'm engrossed in her delicious meal, but I can still feel her stare. Honestly, I don't like the way she looks at me sometimes. She looks at me like I’m a ticking time bomb that'll go off at any minute. Mom looks at me with pity in her eyes, and I know that she means well, but it's really not making me feel any better. If anything, it's killing the little confidence left in me.
“You do realize that I can feel your gaze on me, right? Like, I canliterallyfeel it on my skin,” I say to her, raising my head to look at her.
“Sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable,” she immediately apologizes.
It can be annoying the way she treats me like she’s carrying an egg. She handles me so delicately and with so much care.
“Mom…” I say to her softly, reaching out to hold her hand. “I'm okay. I promise.”
She's looking at me so seriously, as though she's trying to figure something out, but I smile at her, still maintaining eye contact. My body still aches despite having taken the pill, but I cannot tell her that. She won't react well to it.
“I know you are, honey.” Mom pats my hands. “I know you are.” She sighs. “You're a big girl now, and I need to remember that.”
“Exactly.” I smile.
She walks over to the fridge and takes out a jug of orange juice.
“Speaking of being a big girl…” she says with a subtle tone of excitement in her voice as she turns the juice into a glass cup. “Isn’t that Eric’s shirt you’re wearing?”
Oh God, no.
I know exactly where she's headed with this conversation, and my shoulders drop immediately, my head bending in exhaustion. I would lie that it isn’t, but we’re wolf shifters. And unlike me, Mom is a proper wolf shifter. She can smell Eric.
“Mom, can we please not do this right now?” I plead with my hands pressed together.
“Do what?” She feigns ignorance.
“Do this.” I circle my finger in the air between us. “Okay? I know exactly what you're going to say.”
“Oh, come on, but am I wrong? I know all about the relationship between you and the Jackson brothers,” she says casually, but there's nothing casual about the look on her face.
My heart skips for a moment but I don't let it show.
“Okay, what about them? They’re my friends.”
She chugs down her glass and sets the cup down on the countertop, casting a disbelieving look at me with her head cocked to a side.
“You really wanna play this game with me right now?” she asks with raised brows.
“I have no idea what you're talking about,” I reply, avoiding eye contact.