Page 60 of Never Date A Player
“Then you’re good, sweetie.” She wipes her hands on a towel and props her fists on her narrow waist. “Now, where is that son of mine? You wouldn’t happen to know where he’s hiding? I have a few words for him.”
That doesn’t sound good.
I shake my head. “He’s usually out during the day, but he comes home around this time… before he heads out again with his friends.” I hope I’m not getting Tyler in trouble. We’re adults, but the way Maddie is looking at me, I feel like I’m under the parental inquisition.
I never had that with my mom. She pretty much let me do what I wanted, which is probably why I compulsively self-monitor my activities and attire.
“Hmph.” Maddie’s mouth twists and she looks off as if worried.
“Is everything okay?”
She smiles, though it doesn’t reach her bright blue eyes. “I’m sure it’s fine. Tyler missed a few pre-semester meetings. His employer got in touch with me. They thought something had happened to him. Must be a mix-up.” She doesn’t sound convinced.
Tyler has been distracted. Not particularly happy, but happy to monopolize our television. He certainly doesn’t act like a guy who plans to return to Colorado anytime soon.
“Don’t worry about it, honey,” she tells me when I have no answer for her. “I’ll get to the bottom of it.”
I have no doubt Maddie will. Cali’s mom is badass. She reminds me of Maryanne in that regard. No bullshit and not likely to put up with it. I have huge respect for Maddie, and that’s why her words are more reassuring than anything my mom could have said.
I’ve spent my life trying to not be like my mom. Until Lewis, I kept sex bottled up and compartmentalized. The couple of orgasms I’ve experienced came from the two times the A-hole, of all people, was particularly attentive. Letting go like that requires a loss of control I rarely allow. The A-hole had no hold over my heart. I wasn’t worried he’d damage it, and I was right. In the end, he only hurt my pride.
With Lewis, intimacy is like a vortex of sensation. Control is the last thing on my mind.
I’m worried I’m turning into my mother, like some sort of latent provocative gene is suddenly taking hold. I’m still not sure how I stopped at Cave Rock. The impending orgasm shocked the hell out of me. With the A-hole, those two times were blips in a stark horizon. With Lewis and the intensity of a simple kiss, I could see it happening all the time, and that would be bad. If I can’t control my body, how will I protect my heart?
Lewis shows up at the door, wearing a thin heather-gray sweater over a plaid button-down, the sweater and shirt sleeves rolled and bunched to his elbows.
He had to show off the forearms. He really has no idea what they do to me.
My hands shake as I grab my purse from the counter and introduce Maddie to Lewis.
“Enjoy yourselves,” she calls, and winks as we make our way out the door.
Christ. Why did I mention making out in public?
“Cali’s mom seems nice,” Lewis says as he veers his car off the strip and winds down a side street.
“She’s amazing. Cali’s really lucky.”
He glances over. “You’ve never mentioned your family.”
Exactly. I try to avoid that conversation. But if the point of going out is to get to know each other… “There’s only my mom.” My gaze flickers to him. “No dad. Never knew him.”
Lewis pulls into the parking lot of a nice-looking restaurant that has spiraled topiaries on either side of the entrance. “What’s your mom like?”
And this is why I don’t talk about family. I don’t want people to assume I’m like my mom, but I won’t lie to Lewis. “Eccentric, beautiful, youthful.”
“Beautiful and youthful I could guess by the look of her daughter.”
He thinks I’m beautiful?
“How is she eccentric?” he asks.
We walk into the restaurant and my neck stiffens at his question—and from the look of this place. It’s French. The kind of over-the-top fancy restaurant my mom drags me to. “Well,” I say dryly, “for one, she’s obsessed with anything French. She legally changed her name to a French surname.”
Lewis studies my face and follows my gaze, taking in the ornate furniture, white tablecloths, crystal dishware—“Come on.” He grabs my hand and heads out the door.
“Where are we going?” I glance at the stunned hostess.
