Total pages in book: 42
Estimated words: 39475 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 197(@200wpm)___ 158(@250wpm)___ 132(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 39475 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 197(@200wpm)___ 158(@250wpm)___ 132(@300wpm)
“Yeah.” She clears her throat. “I’m okay.” I let her go, then stay close until we reach the bottom landing. As soon as she’s on solid ground, she rushes toward the kitchen while I head to the front of the house, adjusting myself.
Not that I need to do that. Because as soon as I look through the peephole and see my mother on the other side of the door, my dick deflates.
Fuck.
Chapter 13
Bridgett
Mom
Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God….
I shakily go to the sink and turn the tap on cold so I can let the water run over my wrist to help cool me down. I can’t believe I kissed Noah, or that he kissed me back. Not just that, I can’t believe how flipping hot it was. I had no idea a person could be kissed like that. That you could practically orgasm from having a man’s mouth on you and just his hand on your breast. I close my eyes and try to pull myself together, at least on the outside. Because Lord knows I’m a mess right now on the inside.
When I hear a woman’s voice, my spine stiffens, then I hear Noah say, “Mom,” and my stomach bottoms out. I glance around the kitchen frantically for somewhere to hide as footsteps get closer, but just as I start to step toward the pantry, Noah comes around the corner, his mother a few steps behind him.
“Babe.” His gaze locks with mine, and I swear I see an apology in his eyes. “This is my mom, Rebecca. Mom, this is Bridgett.”
“Nice to finally meet you.” She steps toward me and startles me with a warm embrace.
“You too.” I hug her back awkwardly. I don’t know her, but I know of her. When Aiden was younger, he spent almost all his time at her house. I used to get so jealous of my brother because of his relationship with Noah and his family. They were always traveling for soccer—since he and Noah were on a team together—or going on trips to the lake or for weekends out of town. I wanted that. Wanted people who wanted me around. Because my mother made it very clear that I was an inconvenience, and my dad was always working. I was alone a lot, and that sucked. Okay, I wasn’t alone all the time. I did have the people my parents paid to hang out with me, but that’s not the same.
“I didn’t mean to interrupt anything,” she says, and I come out of my thoughts, finding her looking between Noah and me. “I was just in the area and thought I would stop by and see if you guys were home.”
“You’re not interrupting,” I assure her quickly, feeling my face get hot. “Noah and I were just moving a couch upstairs.”
His mom looks at him.
“I brought my bed over from the trailer and set it up for Bridgett in the spare room.”
“Good.” She gives him a nod of approval while my stomach flops all over the place. His gaze meets mine. I know he mentioned that he didn’t want me sleeping on the couch, but I had no idea he was giving me an actual bed to sleep in.
“I also cleaned out the desk in there so you can use it, and I pulled a ton of hangers from my closet so you can hang up your shit.”
“Thank you.” I clear my throat because I do not want to start crying. Not in front of his mom.
Sheesh, how the heck am I supposed to convince myself not to fall for this guy when he’s so sweet all the time?
I’m so screwed.
“Do you wanna hang out and stay for dinner? Bridgett’s making lasagna.” He picks up Lola when she walks out of the laundry room with her whining puppies trailing behind her.
“I don’t want to intrude.” She bends to pick up Coco.
“Mom.” He shakes his head while I gather up Louie and Chanel, who swarm around my feet. And, no, I have not shared their names with Noah since I’m sure he would not approve or would make fun of me, especially when he calls Coco "Rocky,” Louie “Ralph,” and Chanel “Butch.”
When silence descends over the room, I look up from kissing Louie and find Rebecca’s eyes on me like she’s waiting for me to tell her it’s okay if she stays.
“I’m also making scones,” I tell her stupidly. “But we’re not eating those with the meal. I just found a recipe I want to try. With dinner, we’re having asparagus and Italian bread.” She smiles while Noah groans.
“Asparagus?”
“Asparagus is delicious, and it’s good for you.” I glare at him.
“It’s gross.”
“You’ve never had mine.”
“True.” He gives me a look that feels a little inappropriate with his mother standing just feet away.