* * *
“Shit. Tris, baby. Wake up.”
I blinked, my eyelids heavy with sleep and a big dose ofdon’t wanna. This semester had already taken everything I had to give.“Why are you waking me up? I was gonna skip class.”
“Tristan, you don’t have any more classes. You have to get up. The graduation ceremony starts in an hour.”
Oh, shit.
I sat up too fast, dizzy from sleep. When had I ever slept so fucking hard in my life?
“Fuck,” I groaned. “I was supposed to be there an hour ago.”
I reached for my phone, smiling and lovesick when I found that it’d been plugged in. I gave him a quick thank-you kiss, then let my head fall forward when I saw the number of texts and missed calls. The one time I turned off my ringer…
Fuck it. I dialed my mother, knowing I’d have to talk to her before I called the school.
“Hey, Mom.”
“Tristan Juniper Silver! Where the hell are you?”
“I— Shit, I’m sorry, Mom. I stayed over at Joel’s, and”—I verified what my phone was telling me—“I set my alarm for p.m. instead of a.m.”
“Wait, does this mean we get to meet Joel today?” Mom asked, audibly smirking.
I’d made the mistake of telling her how much I liked him, and she’d been haranguing me for details ever since. I’d barely managed to get her and my sister to agree not to spy on him at the bar, and there was no way I was going to throw him into the deep end with them.
“Mom, I need to grab my cap and gown.” I looked over at the pile of rumpled, cum-stained clothes. “Shit. And I need something to wear.”
Joel rolled over. “I’ll lend you something,” he said, his voice still rough with sleep.
“Oh my God. Is that him? He even sounds sexy.”
I let my head drop back. “Mommmm.”
Joel smiled as he kissed my shoulder.
“Am I wrong?”
I inhaled sharply when his large palm rubbed my belly. “No, Mom. You’re not wrong.”
“Thought so. Also, I already have your cap and gown, plus a change of clothes for you. Joel lives out in Geronimo, right? We’ll bring the clothes by his house.”
“Mom. You promised no spying.”
“You said we couldn’t go to his place of business, sweetness. You never said anything about looking him up.”
Joel, that poor bastard, made his way off the bed, heading toward his closet. “They should bring your stuff here. It’s on the way.”
I sighed. “Mom’s already on it.”
“Perfect. I’ll put on the coffee while you try to do something with that hair,” he said, chuckling.
“Meeting the hot boyfriend, meeting the hot boyfriend,”Mom singsonged.
“Oh, Jesus Christ.” Joel put his brush in my hand, and I started working out the tangles as I begged, “Please, please, please don’t embarrass me, Mom.”
“When have I ever embarrassed you?”
