Iappreciateher. I can appreciate someone’s realness and the way realness lends itself to attraction.
“Where is my granddaughter?” Granny Grumpy says.
I turn so she can see Sloane behind me.
Sloane finger-waves and shoves another full handful of popcorn into her mouth.
She moans like it’s the best thing she’s ever tasted, then cuts herself off mid-moan to stare at the phone like she just got caught masturbating in public.
To thoughts of me, my brain adds.
I flip it off.
“Sloane’s had a long day. We’re having a late dinner,” I tell Granny Grumpy.
“Let me talk to my granddaughter.”
I back up three steps so Sloane’s larger in the camera view. “She’s right here.”
“Alone.”
“Sloane, you want to talk to your grandmother alone?”
Her eyes say no.
Her frozen body saysplease don’t make me answer that.
“I didn’t ask if she wants to,” Granny Grumpy snaps. “I said to do it.”
The cat yowls, then hisses.
Relatable, Peggy. “Last I checked, your granddaughter is a grown woman capable of making her own decisions.”
“Clearly not, if she’s marrying you. Which she won’t be. Sloane, Nigel’s ready to bring you home.”
Sloane visibly swallows, then makes thecome closergesture to me.
I don’t want to, but I obey, sitting on the couch next to her.
Because someone needs to respect her damn wishes.
And I swear I’m only so close that our thighs are touching because we have to sell this fake engagement.
She leans toward the phone, the focus in her eyes telling me she’s all here. “Grandma, I’m marrying Davis. Saturday. Whether you’re there or not. Because I love him, and he loves me, and it would mean the world to me to have your support. But I’ll do it with or without your support.”
Granny Grumpy’s jaw shifts back and forth. Her blue eyes are on fire. “I didn’t take you on to raise you to use that kind of sass with your elders.”
A buzzing starts in my ears.
I don’t like where this is going.
Sloane digs into the popcorn bowl again. “You raised me to be strong and independent and think for myself.”
“I raised you to not be a dummy, and look what you’re doing now. Is this the gratitude you show me for taking you in when I’d already done my part and raised your father? Now you’re defying me when I’m getting closer and closer to heaven’s gates with every passing day?”
Sloane flinches.
I curl my empty hand into a fist, order it to relax, and don’t listen to myself. “How old were you?” I ask Sloane.
