“I’m kidding, Greene.” I chuckle. “Mostly.”
“You better be—you’ll eat your words after trying my famous pancakes. Just wait.” She scoffs, jumping into action. I watch her walk away, paying shamefully close attention to the way her hips sway inmy T-shirtwith each passing step.
“Code red,” Kai whispers frantically into my ear. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Code red? What is that supposed to mean?
“Care to enlighten me?”
“There’s no time, you’ll understand in 3…2…1…” Suddenly, I hear my front door open. Only one other person in the Cove has the key to my home.No, no, no.
My mother struts in through the front door, my father wheeling in behind her. She eyes my sweatpants suspiciously. “Jasper! Don’t tell me you forgotagain!” I look at the date and time: our monthly breakfast hour. I glance over their shoulders, catching Kai cackling. Truman greets them in the front entrance, rubbing against my mom’s legs. “And when did you get a cat?”
Of course, my parents drop by while Iris is currently standing in my kitchen, wearing my T-shirt, with her bare legs on full display. Of fucking course.
Twenty-Five
Iris
While whisking a batch of batter in a mixing bowl, I feel at ease—comfortable, even. It took me a couple minutes to find all the ingredients and materials needed to make some homemade vanilla pancakes, but I’m in no rush. I woke up early again, so I have plenty of time before going home and getting ready for work. I tend to wake up early when sleeping over at Jasper’s. He strides into the kitchen, hustling to my side and looking uneasy. He gestures for me to pause my music, so I pull out my AirPods.
“Don’t panic, Greene,” he says quietly. My heart stops.
“What? What is it?” I’ve had one too many scares over the past twenty-four hours, I don’t know if I can handle another.
“My parents are waiting in the front entrance as we speak.” He pauses, trying to read my expression. “Remember how I told you we do monthly breakfasts? Well, it may have slipped my mind due to last night’s events. I’m going to go out to eat breakfast with them. Will you be okay here? I’ll be back before you have to leave for work, so I can give you a ride.”
“Oh, thank goodness, you almost gave me a heart attack!” I sigh in relief. Confusion crosses his face. “Jasper, I thought something else had happened to Truman. I’m great with parents. I could meet them right now if you want, we’re not even dating.”
“Oh, uh…” His eyes drift down to my legs. I follow his gaze, realizing I forgot a minor detail that isn’t so minor.
“Shit!” I whisper, pulling down the gray shirt to cover my bare legs, panic rising. “Jasper, go get my pants!”
“On it.” He salutes, turning toward the living room.
“Jasper, what on earth is taking you so—” A petite woman in her mid-forties intercepts him. She glances over his shoulder, fixing her dark brown eyes on me. Immediately, almost comically, her eyes drop down to my bare naked legs. “Oh.”
Oh?She doesn’t even sound fazed.
“Mom, this is Iris. Iris, meet my mom.” Jasper motions us toward each other, pinning me with an apologetic expression.
“Hi, Mrs. Alcott, it’s so nice to meet you,” I smile warmly and reach out my hand to shake hers. This isn’t the most ideal way to meet Jasper’s parents, but the only way out of this situation is through at this point.
“Hi, Iris.” She shakes my hand as thick strands of her black hair fall forward, framing her round face. “And how long have you two been together?”
“We’re not,” we both answer simultaneously.
“Mom, Iris is running Aged Emporium’s fundraiser, she’s the one I told you about,” Jasper clarifies.He told his mom about me?
“Ah, I see.” She smiles knowingly at him, turning her gaze toward me. “Honey, there’s no need to be embarrassed. This isn’t the first time, and quite frankly, it isn’t the worst time I’ve caught Jasper with a girl.”
My eyes flicker to Jasper, who is leaning against the hallway door frame, his arms folded.
“We don’t have all day,” a deep voice rumbles from the living room area. A wall divides the kitchen from the front entryway, so I’m unable to capture a look at his dad.
“Forgive my husband,” Mrs. Alcott says. “He isn’t known for his patience, and now that he’s in a chair, he’s grumpier than ever. Will you be joining us for breakfast?”
“Oh, no, but thanks so much for the invitation.”
