Letting Go (Thatch #1)(32)

“Hey,” I said, drawing out the word in my confusion. “Am I missing something?”

She blinked quickly and straightened her back as she put on her “mom” face. “Why does there have to be ‘something,’ what if I just wanted to come in here and see what my daughter was up to?”

I glanced down at my phone and raised an eyebrow when I looked back up at her. “At nine in the morning?”

“Well, you were awake, weren’t you?”

“Yes . . .” I drew out the word again, making it sound more like a question.

My mom hated mornings and was always grumbling at people who were “too perky” before ten. Which meant she was usually grumbling at me when I was home. I distinctly remember her throwing a mini-celebration for herself when Ben got his license and car because she wouldn’t have to wake up to take me to school anymore. So for her to be out of her pajamas and have her makeup and hair done at this hour was something to be concerned about. Add on the creepy smile, and I wasn’t sure I was talking to my mom anymore.

“Have you had a lot of coffee this morning?”

“Not a cup! But I’m working on it.” She lightly bounced as she walked into my room and sat on my bed, facing where I was sitting at my vanity.

“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 You come in here smiling like you have a secret and I’m pretty sure my mom has been replaced by a robot.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 here . . .”

“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.”

“Mom,” I called out when she opened the door and walked out of the room. “This is Jagger. Not some random guy coming to see me. Jagger stopped being a guest when we were twelve.”

She pointed a finger at me as she walked backward toward the staircase. “Change,” she demanded quietly.

Biting back a groan, I walked over to my closet and flung open the door. I didn’t know what qualified as “perfect” at nine in the morning, and at that moment nothing seemed better than what I was already wearing. After staring at my clothes for what felt like hours, I grabbed my green lace racerback tank and threw it on over the black spaghetti strap I was already wearing. Stepping out of my yoga pants, I searched for a pair of shorts and pulled them on as I walked to the door. I stopped abruptly as soon as I hit the doorway, and didn’t hold back my next groan as I turned right back around and walked over to my vanity to put on some makeup—the entire time grumbling about my mom.

Maybe I was in a bad mood.

My mind drifted back to the dreams I’d had last night, and that I’d let replay through my mind all this morning. Jagger still hadn’t kissed me again, and even though we’d spent all day together yesterday, every touch had been started by me. I knew he was letting me set the pace, but it was making me think that I’d somehow pushed him back with my mini-meltdown the other night. My dreams of never being able to get close enough to him just made my worries increase.