“We have the first forum for Aubrey’s Promise at AJ’s old school.”
“I thought you were going to be doing these on your own. Who’s we?”
“Me and Aubrey.” I grimace as I speak his name, hating the thought of doing this appearance with him almost as much as I hate the name he insisted on attaching to my labor of love. Initially, he wasn’t supposed to attend any of the forums, but Allegra informed me last night that he had changed his mind about missing this one in particular.
“Mmm.” She hums disapprovingly.
“Cal and Beck will be there too.”
Thatperks her right up.
“Oh, good! I always feel better when they’ve got their eyes on you.”
“Me too.”
Their eyes. Their lips. Their hands….
I bite my lip, vanquishing my wayward thoughts and vowing to spend some time with my vibrator and plethora of memories tonight because if I’m thinking about threesomes on the phone with my mother then I’ve gone far too long without an orgasm.
“How are you feeling about going back to the school?”
“Fine. It’s just a building, Mama.”
One that’s undergone a full remodel since the shooting. The changes mean it won’t be familiar to me at all. It won’t feel like anywhere AJ has ever existed even though I’m told his name is engraved on a plaque in the main hall along with the other people who died that day.
“It’s not just a building, Selene. It’s the site of one of a major trauma, which means it could be extremely….what’s the word?”
“Triggering?”
“Yes.” She snaps her fingers. “Triggering. That’s exactly why you need to be going to therapy, ain’t that right, Al?”
Up until this point, she hadn’t so much as hinted at my father’s presence in the kitchen, but now I hear the deep rumbleof his voice from far off, which means he’s probably at the table eating his breakfast and hoping to be left out of his wife’s early morning meddling.
“Good morning, Daddy!”
“Good morning, baby girl,” he shouts.
My brows pull together. “Have I been on speaker this whole time?”
“Of course. I need both hands to cook breakfast, Selene,” she says, sass all up and through her tone. “Now, back to this therapy thing…”
“Mamaaa,”I groan at the same time Daddy says, “Justine. Leave it alone.”
She sucks her teeth. “Can’t tell the two of your stubborn fools nothing.”
A knock on my door presents the excuse I was looking for to end the call, and I waste no time saying my goodbyes, promising to call later and let them know how the forum went. The knock sounds again, and I sigh, throwing the covers back and stretching before getting up to finally start my day.
Agent Shaw’s signature frown greets me when I open the door.
“Good morning, ma’am.”
“Good morning, Agent Shaw.”
With everything the woman knows about me, you’d think we’d have abandoned the formality by now, but she seems to prefer to keep those boundaries in place. As someone who thrives inside the space between crisp and clear lines, I understand the desire. I even get how that need for order led her to accept my relationship with Cal and Beck. She’d hinted at it on the night she found out about us, explaining that her job was to keep me safe and doing that meant knowing every aspect of my life so she could sort them into the corresponding boxes.
Often, I imagine that my men and I reside in one she’s marked messy, inconvenient, and potentially career ruining. Of course, that’s just me projecting. I don’t really know how she feels about us or anything at all, actually, because her professional facade doesn’t ever have a crack in it. Even now, when I’m sure I look a mess with ruffled pajamas and my bonnet halfway off my head, her expression remains neutral.
“The motorcade will be departing for Belmont High School at nine sharp,” she announces. “I’ve been asked to inform you that the President will be arriving separately.”
