Letting Go (Thatch 1)
“Is that why you’re so awake? You want to go get coffee?” I glanced down to what I was wearing and shrugged. “I’m ready if you are.”
“Grey, don’t act like I’m never awake at this hour.”
“I didn’t say that. I’m just saying you’re usually a zombie at this hour.”
She huffed and rolled her eyes. “Nice.”
Neither of us said anything as her smile started slowly creeping across her face again. This was getting awkward.
“So, are we getting coffee or not? You’re staring at me like you belong with other Stepford wives.”
“Now, why are you being so grumpy this morning?” She leaned forward to whisper, “Are you on your period?”
“Mom, no. Seriously?” I laughed awkwardly as I waved a hand at her. “You’re the one being weird, I’m not grumpy at all. You come in here smiling like you have a secret and I’m pretty sure my mom has been replaced by a robot. That, or my phone is a few hours behind on the time for some reason.”
“Like I said, I just wanted to come see you . . .”
“I usually wake you up in the morning!” I argued.
“ . . . and maybe tell you that there is a very handsome young man waiting downstairs for you.”
My head jerked back and I looked toward my bedroom door. “Wait, what?”
She put her hands out to the side and shrugged, but that excited smile was back on her face. “It’s just a possibility.”
“Jagger’s here? Why didn’t he just come up?”
“Because I had to make sure you looked ready for him.”
A short laugh burst from my chest. “Mom. He’s seen me in three-day-old pajamas and greasy hair. Nothing will faze him.”
“Well, that’s gross. Wait, where are you going?” she asked as she quickly climbed off my bed and ran over to me as I walked to the door.
“I’m going to see Jagger . . . unless he’s not actually h
ere . . .”
“He is, but you need to change,” she hissed before shutting my bedroom door.
I once again looked down at my clothes, my expression morphing into confusion when I did. “What’s wrong with what I have on?”
“You look like you’re going to do yoga.”
“And? I just got home from running and taking a shower, I wanted to be comfortable.”
“And you can’t look like you’re not excited to see him!”
I laughed in frustration and looked at the door longingly before shooting my mom a look. “I am excited to see him, these clothes don’t say that.”
“Grey Alexandra LaRue, change your clothes.”
My eyes widened and a smile pulled at my lips. “Okay, that sounds more like you in the morning. What do you suggest I wear?”
“Something perfect.”
My expression fell. “Perfect.”
“Yes, and put some makeup on. I’ll go distract your guest.”