Page 40 of Cheater and the Saint
I smiled.
We were alike in a lot of ways; I’d gotten my blond hair and blue eyes from her, as well as some of my more feminine facial features. The only thing masculine about my face was the sharpness of my jaw and Adam’s apple. But we were different, too. She was lively and animated and always had a story to tell.
Honestly, Leo reminded me of her in some ways. They both could walk into a room full of complete strangers and within minutes, everyone would be their friends.
“It’s good to see you, Mom.”
Her blue eyes lifted to mine as a warm smile crossed her face. “I’m glad you had time in your busy schedule for a visit. I know your classes take a toll on you, so I don’t like to bug you much. This is nice, though.”
That Tuesday afternoon, after I’d gotten out of class, I’d called and asked if she wanted to have dinner together. She only lived about fifteen minutes from the college, so it wasn’t as if either of us had a long drive if we wanted to visit. Our schedules didn’t allow for us to see each other as often as we’d like.
“How’s Patrick?” I asked after the waiter took our orders. Patrick was the silver fox she was dating.
“Good,” she answered, and the way her face lit up at the mention of him was amazing to see. I loved that she was happy. “He wanted to come today and meet you, but… I don’t know. I want to besurebefore I introduce you to him.”
The one time she’d introduced me to a guy before they were at the serious stage had turned out bad. Not having a male role model in my life at the time apparently made me cling onto him, and when he ended up leaving Mom two weeks later, I hadn’t taken it well. Mom still carried guilt about it.
“I’m not a little boy anymore,” I pointed out, offering her a sincere smile. “I can meet him if you want me to.”
“He’s a really good man,” she responded, dropping her gaze to her lemon water. Condensation had built up on the sides of the glass, causing droplets of water to trickle to the table. “He was… unexpected.” After a pause, she looked back up at me. “What about you? Is there a special man in your life, pumpkin?”
Pumpkin had been a nickname since I was six. Halloween was my favorite time of year, and for three Halloweens in a row starting when I was four, I’d dressed up as a pumpkin. So it wasn’t the sweet endearment likecupcakeorhoney-bunch,but an actual freaking pumpkin. Between Mom calling me that and Leo calling meFrosty, I had both Christmas and Halloween covered. Awesome.
“Nope,” I answered, trying not to sound sad about it. “Just trying to focus on school right now. I don’t have time for dating.”
“Some things appear when you aren’t looking for them,” she said, giving me that knowingMomsmile, the one when they knew their kid wasn’t being one-hundred percent honest. “What about this roommate of yours? I remember you saying he was a party boy.”
“Oh, he is,” I agreed, raising my brows. “Not my type.”
Another lie. He was hot and willing to fuck… pretty much my type, given the past three nights of constant jacking-off and wishing my closed fist was a tight ass instead.
Correction:histight ass.
Once our food arrived, we talked some between bites. I’d ordered a steak and a baked sweet potato, while Mom went full southern girl and ordered a country-fried steak with white gravy, mashed potatoes, and green beans with small chunks of bacon. No matter how much she ate, though, she stayed tiny. A lot like me.
It was hard to gain weight, but I was proud of the little muscle definition I’d been able to form over the past year.
After we ate, we sat in the booth and talked for a while longer. She told me about work—she was a manager in a clothing store—and how she’d recently hired a few college students who needed extra money while working through school. Mom usually jumped from job to job, never staying anywhere too long, but the manager job was one she enjoyed, and she’d worked there for nearly six years.
Once we left the restaurant and got into our separate cars, I felt more relaxed than I’d been before the visit. I hadn’t known I’d needed to see my mom that bad until then. Seeing her had washed away some of my tension and made me feel more at peace. Which just went to show that no matter how old I got, I’d always be a momma’s boy. Or a momma’s pumpkin.
I scoffed at the thought.
Secretly, I liked the nickname. Just like I kind of… sort of… liked the one Leo had given me.
When I got home, the first thing I noticed was the smell. Like something burning. Leo was in the kitchen, fanning the smoke from the stove, and muttering obscenities.
“Um. Everything okay?” I asked.
He flipped around and snarled, “Fuck no. I burnt my pizza.”
“The frozen pizza,” I said, walking closer. “The one you just have to place in the oven for eleven minutes.”
“I don’t need your sass right now, Frosty,” Leo snapped before shutting the oven door and muttering more curses under his breath. God. He looked too adorable when he was frustrated. His cheeks were pink, as were his lips, and his dark hair had slipped free of the semi-hold he’d had it in, falling across his brow. “That was my dinner.”
“I brought leftovers, if you want them,” I announced, placing the white box on the kitchen counter. Mom hadn’t been able to eat all of hers and had insisted I take it home.
“I’m not a dog,” Leo said, leaning against the fridge and crossing his arms. “Leftovers.”
“It’s country-fried steak and buttered rolls.”
“On second thought.” Leo strode forward and grabbed it, not hesitating before he flipped open the lid and dug in with his fingers. I stared at him in amusement as he shoved a piece of meat into his mouth. Some of the white gravy got on the side of his mouth, and I pressed my lips into a line to keep from laughing. His brown eyes narrowed, and he spoke with his mouthful, “What?”
“Other than the fact you’re a huge slob who can’t cook?”
“Hey,” he said after swallowing another bite. “I’m offended.”
Rolling my eyes, I started down the hall. Admitting it, even just to myself, terrified the hell out of me, but my crush on Leo was getting bigger. With each dumb comment or goofy grin, I fell just a bit harder for him.
Perhaps that’s why I hadn’t caved and taken him up on his offer, yet, even though my body was screaming for me to. Even if I went into it knowing it was no-strings attached sex, that it was fun and nothing else, I was afraid my heart wouldn’t get that memo.
