A nod.
“You’re starting from scratch. Impress me.”
“Yes, ma’am,” said John, handing her one of the bunches of flowers.
“Good start. Go on, take a seat at the table,” she ordered, closing the door behind him. Still looking deeply unhappy, she said to his back, “I hope you have children one day so you get what this is like. The fear. The worry. You two have aged me.”
John risked the smallest of smiles in my direction.
“But do not have children with my daughter,” said Mom. “Or if it is with my daughter, not anytime soon.”
“Yes, ma’am.” John sat in the seat beside me as I finally put my butt back in my chair. He was here. Holy shit, he was really here. At dinner. He caught my gaze wholly, handing me the second bouquet.
“Thank you,” I whispered, holding on tight to the flowers. “You’re here?”
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
“Because this is where you are,” he said, as if it were obvious.
I had nothing.
“Young love,” Mom muttered under her breath. She slammed the kitchen cupboard door, rattled the cutlery drawer. All in the process of getting our guest a plate and utensils. He must have felt so welcome.
Dinner went reasonably smoothly, with Matt and John doing most of the talking. I didn’t know what to say, and Mom was still in a huff. Happily, Matt dragged her and her hostility out onto the back patio after dessert, leaving John and me to clean up. We huddled near the dishwasher with our backs to the windows.
“Bravely done,” I said, keeping my voice down just in case.
“Your mom’s scary. But she’s not junkie-with-a-gun scary.”
“True.”
He smiled, and I had a very small orgasm or something. I’m not sure exactly. But it felt good.
“I have to get going. Anders wants me to train with him tonight,” he said. “Walk me out?”
“That should be allowed.” I headed over to the sliding screen doors. “I’m just going to see John out.”
“Ten minutes,” said Mom. “I’m timing you.”
I turned away from her and rolled my eyes. “Okay.”
Outside, a cold breeze blew. An autumn wind.
“Thanks again for the flowers,” I said, trying not to fidget.
“Sure.”
“And for coming over.”
A questioning look. “You didn’t say, this morning. If you wanted to be serious.”
“I don’t want you to have to do this because of my mom and her new commandant status.”
“Been thinking about that.” He exhaled, leaning against the side of his car, watching me. All of the black paint and chrome shone in the moonlight.
Across the road, someone slammed a door, cutting off a raised voice. Otherwise, it was quiet.
“And?” I asked.
“I figure we would have wound up there anyway.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Being a couple.”
The way he said the word, as if he didn’t entirely trust it. No wonder I wasn’t convinced. I said nothing.
With a quick frown, he pushed off from the car, cradling my face in his hands. His lips met mine and just like that, everything was better. Mouths open, tongues stroking, my arms sliding around his waist. Kissing John was everything. Well, not everything everything. I wouldn’t die without him. But all of me wanted him, my heart and my head and all of the rest. Without a doubt, he made life better.
“Please don’t tell me I’m going to have to get my fucking forehead tattooed before you believe me,” he murmured, teeth nipping my ear.
I burst out laughing. “But it would look so pretty.”
“No.” His body shook with silent laughter. “Not on my forehead, anyway.”
“Fine.” Tears welled, but I would not cry. I wouldn’t. “I lo . . . umm . . .”
“Hey?”
Holy hell, what had I been about to say? No way could I just blurt out that I loved him even if I possibly did. Shit.
He nuzzled my neck, making my head swim and my body wake right the hell up. This time I ached in the right place.
Just for a moment, I was no longer the remnants of the hostage from the Drop Stop, jumping at shadows and flipping the bird to the future. It was just me and him, together. And that feeling swamped everything else.
“That’s enough!” Mom hollered from the front door. Not humiliating at all.
John kissed me quick, keys freed from his pocket and jangling in one hand. “’Bye.”
And all of a sudden I hated that word with a passion. Least favorite word ever. “Say ‘hi’ to Anders for me. See you tomorrow.”
The beast’s engine revved and he gave me a parting grin, driving off at an extremely safe mom-proof speed. Smart of him, really. Best not to give her anything else to criticize.
“Did you arrange that, him turning up tonight?” she asked, arms crossed yet again. “Because in the future I’d prefer to have some advance warning.”
“No, I didn’t have a clue.”
Eyes narrowed, she studied my face.
I just waited her out.
“Okay.” The aggression faded from her face, the line of her mouth relaxing. “You know I just want you safe, right?”
“Yes, but John isn’t a threat. And anyway, you can’t protect me from the whole world.”
She harrumphed.
I turned back to the street, though his car lights were long gone. My boyfriend. Crazy.
“Be smart, honey,” she said. “You’re young; there’s going to be others.”
“He came and he said he’d do anything you wanted,” I said, staring her straight in the eye. “Mom, you have to give him a chance.”
She held her hands up. “I’m giving him a chance. I invited him in for dinner, didn’t I?”
“Yes. Thank you.”
Stepping forward, she wrapped her arms tightly around me. I hugged her back.
“Next time, though, could we possibly have less cold war across the table?” I asked.
She sighed. “Fine.”
Boxes of condoms started appearing the very next day. Mom was nothing if not efficient. And she sure as hell couldn’t be described as subtle. In my bathroom, my bedside table, my schoolbag—they were pretty much everywhere. By Friday, I’d prepared myself to stage an intervention regarding her prophylactic habit. I’d even get Matt involved if necessary, since he’d proven to be silently supportive of me and John.