Chosen Fool (Forever Evermore #5)(7)

I stared sightlessly at Tristan’s collar. “Oh.” I wasn’t sure what the point to my question was, but I now knew I wasn’t real receptive to the answer. My tone wasn’t as censored as it should have been. I snapped, “They should keep you busy for a while.”

A quiet hum was his reply.

I squirmed in irritation, burrowing closer to Tristan’s warmth.

A warm palm slapped my hip, gripping it tightly. Leric ordered, “Be still. You’re disrupting my order.”

“Fine,” I muttered. It was a chore to lie still.

He removed his hand from my side, and another flip of a sheet resonated.

I tapped lightly on Tristan’s collar and griped, “I may fall asleep in here.”

“Was that a question? Because it didn’t especially sound like one.”

More crabby words. “It was a question.”

Another flipping of a page. “Then, yes, you may stay.”

My words were grudgingly muttered. “Thanks.”

“Sprite, your gratitude is overwhelming.”

Reaching blindly with a groan, I smacked where I heard a phone ringing. The room was pitch-black so I fumbled with the receiver until I had it to my ear. “What?”

My ear was attacked with pronounced breathing over the line.

You have got to be f*cking kidding me.

“Look, you perverted heavy-breathing-mother-f*cker, it’s not even light out. Save your goddamn pranks for the waking hours.”

A feminine throat cleared before a prim voice asked, “With whom am I speaking?”

I was too tired for this shit, finally remembering what room I was in. “If Leric gave you his number, you can f*ck off. He’s not interested. He’s busy with his hand on my ass.”

“Sprite, who the hell are you talking to?” Leric grumbled against my head, his voice gravelly with sleep. Our positions had somewhat changed, since I was damn near lying on top of him.

And his hand was actually on my ass.

The woman’s voice remained clipped as she specified leisurely, “Leric, the man I just heard in the background, the one with his hand on your ass—and who is also my son—I would very much like to speak with him.”

My head shot off Leric’s bare chest, a tiny squeak emitting from my throat as I stared wide-eyed at him. I rambled into the receiver, “I’m so sorry, Mrs Damon. Here’s Leric, your son, the man…uh, here he is.” I thrust the phone against the pillow, groaning at the sleepy eyes staring up at me. “Don’t you dare tell her my name.” That wasn’t a great first impression.

Leric blinked, and I really hoped he heard me in his drowsy state. I lifted the phone and he raised a hand—not the one on my ass—to take it. He yawned wide, flashing white teeth at me before placing the phone to his ear, mumbling tiredly, “Hello, Mom.”

My head thumped back on his chest as I heard her instantly grilling him.

Her exact words were stifled, but her tone was universal for ‘pissed off mother’.

“No, I’d rather not say her name right now. You woke us, so if she did say that, it was because she thought you were prank calling. Besides, did you say anything when she answered?” A long pause, then a heavy sigh. “Yes, I know her first and last name.” Another pause. “No, she’s not drunk. Nor am I.” Pause. “Yes, I’ve known her for longer than a night.” Pause. “They’re blue, Mom.” Pause. “Yes, she’s on birth control.” Pause. “Yes, she’s a spirit.” Pause. “I honestly have no clue.” Wasn’t going to ask. “Really, I don’t know.” Pause. “That’s probably not a great idea…seriously, no…Mom? Mom?”

He set the phone aside, his eyes enormous in an expression I had never seen on him before—mortified horror. “Shit.”

A flash of white lit the room, originating from my left.

I screamed, my heart pounding as I grabbed Leric’s bare shoulders. My nails dug into his flesh, and I was literally blinded by the sudden glow in the dark room.

“Calm down,” Leric coaxed in a soothing purr. His hands were instantly on my back, rubbing comfortingly as I blinked furiously, trying to see. All thoughts evacuated my brain when he griped, “It’s only my mom.”

My jaw dropped.

No. No.

And hell no.

The glow disappeared just as quickly as it had appeared, and suddenly the lamp on the bedside table was flicked on—not by either one of us—dimly illuminating the room.

I stared down at Leric, watching an actual flush stain his tanned cheeks.

He mumbled, “I’m sorry in advance for this. She can be a bit overbearing.”

I stared at his blush—the One’s blush—a moment longer before swallowing and gradually tilting my head to the left. To where his damn mom had just flashed in—a parent’s link to their child in the ether is direct—while I lay on top of her son. I hurriedly scooted off him, landing hard in the middle of the bed and yanking the cover up over the large neckline of Leric’s silk shirt that showed too much of my small cleavage.

“I prefer ‘tenacious’,” his mom specified, her hands clasped primly.

Mrs Damon appeared to be forty in Com years, her white spirit’s haircut razor straight at chin level with short bangs, her skin tone the same as her son’s—a beautiful golden brown. Her eyes were brown, instead of his silver, and her features were sharply striking, with full lips just as red as Leric’s. She stood at about six feet in height, her strapless white gown simple yet elegant with two long slits up to her tone thighs, as most spirit women wore at the Temple. Tanned feet peeked beneath the hem of the silk gown.