When we reach the porch, she pulls Jase into a hug, and I wait nervously beside them.
“Avery?” she asks, releasing him.
I nod once. Her smile is wide and welcoming, and I see that I have nothing to worry about. “Hi, Mrs. Owens.”
“Call me Cathy.” She pulls me in for a hug too, and I hear her tell Jase over my shoulder “She’s gorgeous, Jase.”
He chuckles. “Trust me, Mom, I’m all too aware.”
I stand there stunned, trying to pretend they’re not talking about me like I’m not here, trying to pretend that Jase thinking I’m gorgeous doesn’t turn my insides to mush. We enter the house and the inside is even more immaculate than the outside. A large marble floored foyer with a round table holding a giant vase of fragrant peonies greets us. Wow. A staircase winds off one side of the foyer, and the other opens to a spacious living room with the highest ceiling I’ve ever seen.
Jase gives me a tour of the large, opulent first floor with Cathy trailing behind us, asking us each occasional questions about school. She leaves us after that, saying dinner will be at five, excusing herself to the sunroom where she perches in a lounge chair with a romance novel.
Jase leads me upstairs to his bedroom. The carpeting is so soft and plush beneath my feet as I trail after him down the long hallway. Their house really is beautiful.
His bedroom appears unchanged from high school – the walls are adorned with posters of supermodels and pro athletes, and a shelving unit holds various trophies and medals. When I get closer, I see they’re for swimming and tennis. Interesting. I didn’t take him for much of an athlete, though his lean physique begs to differ.
He crosses the room and tosses our bags onto a dark mahogany sleigh bed that sits under the window. He doesn’t expect me to sleep in here, does he? Surely his mom wouldn’t be okay with that. Surely I wouldn’t be okay with that.
“Jase?” I question, watching him walk toward me.
“I like having you in my space.”
Uncertain of how to answer, I remain still and silent as he approaches. His hand cups my jaw, his thumb skittering back and forth against my skin. My eyes flick to his mouth, lingering on his lips, that I know from experience are incredibly soft and full. His mouth curves up a fraction and I know I’ve been caught. His thumb continues its gentle caress on my cheek and his eyes are bright with desire.
“You know this isn’t going to work. Should we just get it out of the way?” he asks finally.
“Get what out of the way?”
“Sex.”
“Excuse me?”
“You’ve got to feel this raw sexual energy radiating between us.”
I scoff. “I most certainly do not.” Lie. My damn panties are probably wet. Bastard.
He laughs, a deep throaty chuckle that lights up my nerve endings and makes my skin tingle. “Despite your tendency to lie through your teeth about being attracted to me, you’re still outrageously delicious.”
“Delicious?”
“Outrageously so.”
“So now I’m outrageously delicious? Isn’t that a cereal tagline?”
“No. That’s magically delicious. And stop changing the subject.”
“And what subject are we on?” I ask, suddenly breathless.
“The eventual sex we’re going to have. I’m going to open you up in more ways than one, babe.”
Holy shit. My knees buckle and I reach out to grasp onto Jase’s biceps. “Jase,” I rasp. If I had any upper body strength I’d punch myself in the ovaries for the idiotic way I’m behaving. But he possesses the distinct ability to turn me into a pile of hormones, and there’s no denying that fact.
His eyes have gone dark, all the humor has disappeared from his face. “Tell me what you want.”
“I can’t. I need more time.”
His eyes dart from my mouth to my eyes. “We’ll discuss this later. I’ll show you to your room.”
I nod and follow him, being sure to keep my clutch on his arm so I don’t stagger on my uncooperative legs.
Over dinner, Jase asks his mom about her therapy appointments and medication dosage, and I’m surprised they’re talking so openly in front of me. On the car ride over, Jase explained the reason he needed to check on her – saying that she lost it several months ago and was briefly hospitalized. I’m sure there’s more to the story, but not wanting to pry, I allowed him to share only what he was comfortable with me knowing. Lord knew there were plenty of secrets I kept to myself. The fact that Jase has brought me home and introduced me to his mom, someone who’s clearly important to him, leaves me feeling rattled. He continues to surprise me with his openness – making himself vulnerable while I stay closed off.
His mom squeezes his hand from across the table, the simple touch meant to reassure. “I’m on a low dose anxiety pill, but I told you, honey, I really am doing much better. I’ve been exercising again, gardening a little too. Things are good right now.” She smiles at him, but Jase’s face remains serious, guarded, like he’s trying desperately to decipher her words.
I sit in silence while his mom heaps a scoop of mashed potatoes and a slice of meatloaf onto my plate. It’s nice to have a home cooked meal, and the food smells delicious.
“I’m so proud of my son. I can’t believe you’re a junior in college already. Your dad and I are both proud,” Cathy says out of the blue. I think she’s just desperately trying to change the subject. I know I would be.