Getting Schooled (The Wright Brothers #1)(14)
“Ooooh!” Her eyes lit up. “That means goodbye Grayson, right?”
I sucked my teeth. “Wrong. This Jason thing is all hypotheticals and scenarios that’ll never happen. My boyfriend is Grayson.”
“So the rhyming is just a coincidence?”
“Uhh, yes,” I laughed. “I know you don’t like Gray, but—”
“Girl you don’t even like him,” Devyn quipped, wrinkling her nose. “He’s not even your type. He’s all… gray.”
I bit my lip to keep from laughing. Partially at the look on her face, partially because I understood exactly what she meant when she called him gray. Meaning neutral. Meaning boring. And maybe that was kinda why he worked for me.
Grayson was a very buttoned-up type of guy. Nice job as a young lawyer, nice condo downtown, nice looking… just... nice. No chance of me getting too wrapped up in our relationship, when the only thing I was trying to be wrapped up in right now was securing my education and career, since I was already two years behind.
He was perfect.
“He’s my type for now. And neither of us is thinking long term, so it’s not like that’s a big deal.”
“It’s a big waste of time though.”
I was opening my mouth to offer a weak response when the doorbell rang, and I hopped right up to answer.
“Saved by the bell,” Devyn called after me, and I grinned as I reached for the deadbolt, putting my eye up to the peephole before I disengaged the lock.
Shit!
“It’s mama!” I whisper-yelled to Deyvn, stepping back into the living room. Her eyes went wide in confusion, and I motioned toward our pizza and wing boxes, and the pouches from our store-bought frozen cocktails.
“Ohhh, shit!”
Devyn immediately went to work, gathering and everything and running with it into the kitchen. I couldn’t do anything about the smell of pizza and liquor that was probably on my breath, but I unbolted and opened the door anyway.
“Hey mama!”
She breezed past me into my living room, just as Devyn stepped in from the kitchen.
“Daaang Auntie!” she said, making a circle around my mother as she posed, shoulders back, head held high. “Why are you all dressed up like this?”
“Out being fast,” I said, grinning as I came to stand beside Devyn. My mother was wearing a flirty, leopard print circle skirt that skimmed her thighs, a sleeveless silk blouse, and sky-high heeled sandals. She’d looked amazing when she left, but now, she had a little glow of happiness all over her face.
She shot me a censoring look, even though she blushed. “I was not out being fast, I was asked on a date.”
“Why is all your lipstick gone if you weren’t being fast?”
“Why does your place smell like pizza and hot wings?” She lifted an eyebrow.
My mouth dropped open. “Umm… so what you’re saying is that we should both mind our business, huh?”
“Mmhmm.”
“Message received.”
Devyn shook her head, laughing. “Y’all are a trip. What does he look like?”
“You know who Henry Simmons is, right?” I chimed in before my mother could answer. “From NYPD Blue? Imagine him a couple shades darker, about sixty years old, with a little salt and pepper thing going on.”
“Damn,” Devyn said. “Go ahead then, Auntie!”
Our laughter was interrupted by the doorbell again, and I stepped away to answer.
Shit, I thought, as soon as my silly ass opened the door without looking and saw the deliveryman on the other side.
“More hot wings Reesie?”
I cringed as my mother’s voice rang from behind me, but didn’t turn around as I collected my food and paid. When I turned around, Devyn had walked up too, and immediately took the Styrofoam carton from my hands.
“Thank you for ordering these for me twinnie,” she said, winking at me as she grabbed her keys and purse from the hook. “My liquor has worn off, so I’m going to head out, y’all have fun, nice to see you Auntie, bye!”
Her words came out as one long sentence as that heifer snuck off, after conning me out of my wings. I couldn’t even argue the point in front of my health-nut mother either, cause we were both supposed to be on this low-fat, low-sodium, low-yumminess kick before what I referred to as comfort-food season started.
“You’re coming running with me in the morning, right?”
I sighed, then closed the door behind Devyn. “Don’t I always?”
“You sound really enthusiastic, my dear,” she quipped, shaking her head. “And yet, you always claim to feel great afterward.”
That was true. I complained and acted like I was dying before and during every early-morning run, but I unfailingly felt amazing after, even if it was early as hell in the morning. Her yoga habit was the same situation.
I pushed a sugary smile to my face. “Yaaay? Is that better?” I asked, my fake smile turning into a real one when she scowled. “So… are you going to tell me about your date? Did you have a good time? Did he kiss you?”
She lifted an eyebrow as a smile tugged the corners of her mouth. “He took me to listen to jazz and have dinner, and it was lovely. I had a wonderful time. And I don’t kiss and tell… my daughter. I’m not telling you.”