Wes shifted the pillow to under one arm and grabbed his cell phone from the nightstand. When he pulled it from the charger it illuminated, allowing me to see him more clearly. And what I saw made my eyes grow wide. Wes was wearing sweats, but he very obviously had an erection. A long, thick one. I licked my lips.
Wes groaned. “Fuck. Don’t look at me like that, Juliette. I have to go.Now.”
***
The following day felt endless. We attended Wes’s grandmother’s funeral, then flew back to California. By the time we made it to my place, it was almost ten at night, even with the three-hour time change. Things between Wes and I had been strained ever since he’d gone to sleep on the couch last night. He’d pretty much kept three feet of distance between us at all times. Before we boarded the plane, we’d had two aisle seats across from one another. But when we’d checked in, Wes had moved to a window seat so there was a man separating us for theentire six-hour flight.
It was finally just the two of us in my house now, yet it still felt like we were a mile apart.
I fixed myself a bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch, vanilla ice cream, and caramel syrup, and offered to make one for Wes. Instead of his usual sarcasm about what I was eating, he politely declined. I’d turned the air conditioning off before we left, so it was a zillion degrees in the house, yet Wes didn’t take off his shirt, even though sweat beaded on his forehead.
I couldn’t take the awkwardness anymore and was trying to figure out how to fix what I’d done to us when my phone rang. It was my mom. Ten here meant one AM at home, so I quickly swiped to answer. “Hi, Mom. Is everything okay?”
“Other than having one week left in my fifties, it’s fine.”
“You don’t look like you’re even fifty yet, so no one has to know.”
She sighed. “I feel old.”
“Are you sure everything is okay? You don’t usually call so late.”
“Everything’s fine, sweetie. Your dad asked me today what I wanted for my birthday next week, and I told him I wanted to be off lockdown and see my baby. I miss you.”
I’d been so wrapped up in myself, I hadn’t given any thought to the idea that my mom was likely on lockdown, too. My heart squeezed. “I miss you, too, Mom.”
“Good. Because I booked us a spa day at some fancy place in Beverly Hills.”
“Oh. Okay. That sounds great. You’re coming to LA then?”
“I am.”
“When?”
“Tomorrow. Or rather today, since it’s past midnight here.”
“You’re coming…tomorrow?”
“I take off at seven AM New York time. Dad booked me a private flight. I’m packing as we speak. It’ll be a quick trip, but I want to see you.”
“Wow. Okay.” I had a million things to do now that I was finally back home, but I guess it would all still be there after she left. I tried to sound enthusiastic, though I had mixed feelings about my mom coming for a visit. Our relationship had been strained the last few years. Unfortunately, my disconnecting from my father’s life had spilled over to my mom’s life as well. “That’s great, Mom. I can’t wait to see you.”
“I should be to you about noon, your time.”
“Perfect.”
“Gotta pack. See you soon, baby.”
“Goodnight, Mom. Safe travels.”
Wes came into the kitchen just as I hung up the phone. I sighed. “You might want to prepare for a storm that’s rolling in tomorrow.”
Wes lifted his phone and pressed a few buttons, then turned it to show me the screen. “Says it’s going to be eighty and beautiful tomorrow. Just like every other day out here.”
I shook my head. “The storm isn’t the weather. It’s Frannie Ginocassi. My mother is coming tomorrow.”
***
Francesca Concetta Grecco Ginocassi didn’t do things halfway.
