I’m going to have to tell her about my relationship with Nate at some point, but I think it can wait. I’m not ready to sleep in a lonely bed yet and I have a feeling mom will be enforcing that rule. So, for that fact alone, I might keep that information to myself for a while.
I crouch down beside my bed and dive under it to unplug my array of chargers. I lean forward and hear the familiar crinkle of foil wrapping and look down to find a torn condom wrapper. My eyes widen as I flick my head around, double checking that Mom hasn’t seen a thing.
I grab the wrapper and desperately look around for somewhere to stash it and realize that anywhere I put it is going to be found by Trish. With nothing left to do, I slip it down my bra and cringe at the way the wrapper scrapes along my skin. I hope I don’t forget that one later.
We’re just about finished packing when the sound of the front door opening and closing followed by a crapload of teenage boys’ sounds loudly throughout the house. A smile rips over my face knowing that my boys are home.
I hear someone running up the stairs, taking it two at a time before Nate appears in the doorway. “Hey, Mrs. Roberts,” he says as charming as ever as he waltzes straight in and wraps my mom in a warm hug.
“Nathaniel, how many times have I told you to call me Alyson?” she smiles, fond of the boy who used to torment me. “How are you, dear?” Mom asks as she releases him from the hug.
“Good,” he smiles with that boyish charm that has my insides clenching. He looks around the packed room before nodding in my direction. “Are you finally taking this hot mess off my hands?”
“Hey,” I gasp as I knock his shoulder.
He turns and gives me a panty dropping wink that has me turning away so my mother doesn’t see the reaction my body has to him.
“Yeah,” mom says with a teasing smile. “She has been a bit of a hot mess lately, huh? I guess the right thing to do would be to take responsibility for it.”
“Yeah,” Nate agrees. “We’ll send you a bill for all the ice cream she’s demolished. You know, she can really pack that shit away.”
“Ice cream?” Mom laughs. “Have you seen how many books she reads? I stupidly allowed her to use my credit card on her Kindle account. She’s been going nuts being stuck in bed the past few weeks. Her reading habit is going to send me broke.”
“Hey,” I demand. “You insisted. I told you I was more than happy to pay for my own books and you refused. You can’t complain about it, you knew what you were getting into.”
“I know,” she groans as her eyes narrow on me yet again. “You haven’t gotten behind in your school work with all this reading, have you?”
“No,” I say. “I’m completely up to date. I’m still you’re good little girl.” Nate turns so mom can’t see him and raises a smug eyebrow at me. Again, I try not to flush and do my best to change the topic. “So,” I say. “Are you going to be the perfect gentleman and carry all this stuff down to my car?”
“Your car?” Mom says. “Don’t tell me you pulled up your big girl panties and you’re finally driving that thing?”
“Geez,” I groan. “What is this? Pick on Tora day?”
Mom wraps her arm around and pulls me into her side. “I’m sorry, sweetie. It’s just that I’ve missed you so much. I have a lot of teasing to catch up on.”
“Super,” I say with sarcasm. “Just remember; whatever you dish out, I’ll be giving straight back.”
“Look forward to it,” Mom grins.
I roll my eyes and grab a bag before moving towards the door. Nate grabs another and walks out before me. “Oi, fuckers,” he calls down the stairs to the noise coming from the den. “Get your asses up here and help get Tora’s shit out of here.”
Nate carries on down the stairs as though he didn’t just assault my mother’s ears with every curse word possible. “Geez, he really has a mouth on him, doesn’t he?” she murmurs beside me even though Nate can hear her perfectly well.
“Oh yeah,” I grin, not mentioning exactly what it is that he can do with his mouth.
As we get to the bottom of the stairs, a heard of boys come barreling up them and heads towards my room, ready and prepared to help me move my life back home. “We need this kind of service at home,” mom murmurs as Maxen comes out with a stack of textbooks.
“I know,” I laugh. “It’s great. You should see when Trish does the groceries. It takes about three seconds, though, the majority of it disappears before it has a chance to hit the shelves.”