“Just imaging you in the thigh-highs, babe.”
I pushed him playfully on the chest. “Don’t be a perv.”
“Can’t help it.” He stood and stretched, revealing the pale sliver of skin just above his waistband. His ab game was strong, as well as the deep-cut V on each side, leading like an arrow. My mom would be home soon and as much as I hated it, he had to go.
She definitely wouldn’t understand a boy, especially one that looked like Oliver, spending the night.
He stood at the door, giving me one last kiss goodbye. “I’ll will say this though, you wear boots like that and you’ll drive Jackson and Anderson crazy.”
*
Jackson was only five minutes late. For that, I was grateful. I stood in front of the mirror, fussing with my outfit. I’d gotten the whole thing for eight dollars at the thrift store. With the help of the internet and the google words “Sexy casual party outfit,” upcycling clothes may be my superpower. My mother said nothing about my outfit when I came down the stairs, but I knew what she was thinking: When did my daughter start dressing like a tramp?
My jeans were skin-tight, leaving little to the imagination, and lined with strategic rips and tears. I’d found a fantastic black V-neck tank top that I accentuated with a lacy, teal bra. It pushed my cleavage upward while flowing near my waist. My boobs looked pretty freaking fantastic, which was something I never thought I’d say, but since coming out of my shell, that was the first thing I realized. I have a good body. A rockin’ body. Sure, I was covered in scars, but Oliver taught me they weren’t something to be embarrassed about.
I was tired of hiding.
I didn’t have the go-go boots from my dream but my black booties went perfectly with the outfit.
Unfortunately, my mother didn’t agree with my outfit choice.
“You’re not seriously going in that, are you?”
“What?” I said, finger-combing my hair. “It’s not a big deal.”
“Not a big deal? If you have one slip your nipples will fall out!”
“Mom!” I rolled my eyes. “I’m not showing my nipples.”
“Yet.”
So here was the problem with my mom. For my mom. She wasn’t a bad parent…just not around. She was flighty and busy and the bad shit that went down between her and my dad exhausted her. And other than my dark moments I was a pretty good kid. I was easy to ignore. So her sudden interest didn’t mean that much to me.
I had no interest in her approval.
Jackson drove up, his car loud on the wet street. I ran to the door, hoping to catch him before he came inside.
“Heaven Reeves, you let the boy come to the door,” my mother said, appearing next to me. I cringed as she peeked out the window. “Boys, that is. You let them come to you, not the other way around.”
I felt my eyes widen. “Boys?”
I pushed my mother out of the way and stole a look. Sure enough, Jackson was walking up to the front door and there was another person behind him. A person with messy hair and a determined sour disposition.
I dropped the curtain. “Holy shit.”
“Heaven! Language.” My mother was still standing there. Why was she still standing there?
“Sorry, Mom. I just didn’t expect them both to come.”
There was no time for me to prepare for this situation. The heavy tread of their shoes announced their arrival on the front porch. They were here, and apparently my date had turned into a double.
“Mom, go, now.” I urged. She sighed, but reluctantly left anyway, giving us some space.
They knocked. I answered. Jackson smiled. Anderson frowned. I tried to look anywhere but their eyes. It was awkward. The two boys hulked in the doorway, Anderson a step behind Jackson. Jackson was taller, although you couldn’t tell since Anderson had that crazy big hair and wide, broad shoulders. He was adorable. They were both adorable. Shit. I was staring and things were getting so, so uncomfortable.
“I thought Anderson may want to ride with us?” Jackson said breaking up the horribleness. “You know, conserve energy and all that.”