less mutual.
“Fine,” she says, turning on her heel.
“Leave the key,” I say.
She glances over her shoulder. “Excuse me?”
“I said leave the key. There’s no reason for you to have it. And it will save Cody the trouble of having one made for me.”
Jennifer grinds her teeth together, twists the key off her key ring, and lets it drop to the floor at her feet. It lands on the hardwood with a clink, and her heels click as she stomps out the front door, slamming it shut behind her.
I smile and lick my spoon again. If enjoying that makes me a bad person, I’m content to call myself terrible.
For the first time in I can’t remember how long, I leave work early. My last appointment is at four-thirty, and instead of staying for another two or three hours, I head home. Of course, it isn’t some newfound sense of life balance that sends me out the front door just after five. It’s my mother.
She called me this morning to remind me I agreed to bring Clover to her place for dinner. I did, didn’t I? It’s Thursday. I suppose it’s a good thing she called, because it totally slipped my mind.
I don’t think bringing Clover to dinner with my parents is a particularly good idea. My mom can be too talkative—and occasionally inappropriate. Unfortunately, Mom started the conversation by asking me whether Clover is feeling well enough to be out and about. Without thinking, I told her she is. So I can’t use her injury as an excuse to put this dinner off.
As I drive home, I tell myself it will be fine. My mom is a little meddlesome, and she might ask too many personal questions, but I can handle that. Still, it feels strange to be bringing Clover to dinner with my family. She and I aren’t … well, we aren’t anything. I’ve known her for less than a week. Despite the fact that my cock keeps trying to betray me every time I’m near her, nothing is happening between us. I can call her a friend, and be happy to do so, but she’s also spent the week living in my house. Sleeping in my bed. It’s so strange. Does my mom want me to bring her over because she thinks there’s something going on between us? Or is she just trying to be nice to a girl who’s new in town? I honestly have no idea.
I’m not sure what Clover will think about this either. She’s so friendly with other people, I don’t think she’ll mind. At least I hope not. I don’t want to spook her with this come meet my family thing.
I get home and find Clover pulling pans out of the cupboards. It’s so odd how natural it feels to see her when I get home from work. Like she belongs here.
“Hi!” she says, giving me that glorious smile. “You’re home so early. I’m not ready for you yet.”
“Yeah, sorry,” I say. “I should have called you, but I kind of wanted to ask you this in person.”
She sets the pan down and looks at me, her blue eyes bright, her eyebrows raised. “Yeah?”
“My mom invited us to dinner at her place,” I say. “Tonight.”
“Oh,” Clover says. “That’s so nice of her.”
Does she sound disappointed?
“You don’t have to go if you don’t want to,” I say. “She mentioned it when she was here last weekend, and I completely forgot. I actually wasn’t sure if she was serious. But she called me this morning to remind me. I think my brothers will be there, too, so it’s kind of the whole family.”
“And she wants me to come?” Clover asks. “Are you sure?”
“She’s doing it for you,” I say. “You know, because you’re new in town. It’s what my mom does—she feeds people. It’s her love language.”
“I guess it’s good I didn’t get started on dinner,” she says. She looks down at herself. She looks positively adorable in a pair of pink shorts and a white t-shirt. “Do I have time to change?”
“We should leave in about half an hour,” I say. “Is that enough time?”
“Yeah, I’m low-maintenance,” she says. She pulls a curl and lets it bounce back. “But I