“Go on.”
“He...”Has been stalking me far worse than I’ve been stalking him.Because apparently there’s a unit of measurement for how much stalking is unacceptable.
God, this is pathetic.
I clear my throat. “It’s?—”
“I swear, the next words out of your mouth better not be, ‘It’s complicated.’”
Fuck. That’s exactly what I was going to say.
Remember how I’m obsessed with him? He’s obsessed with me too. Oh, and I think he’s installed cameras in our living room and might be listening to us right now.
Or, how about,I’ve been lying to you for months because I actually made a fake account to talk to him, and it turned out he knew it was me the whole time?
“Honestly, it has all happened so quick; I’m still trying to process it. One second we were just texting, and the next, he declared that we were dating.”
Her brows shoot up. “You never told me you went on a date with him.”
“That’s because I haven’t.”I was supposed to yesterday, but... Mother.
“So you’re a couple, but he’s never once taken you out for dinner?” She looks incredulous.
“If you recall, I mentioned how everything is happening superfast.”
Oh no. Her eye is twitching. “Do I need to kill him? What the fuck is wrong with him? Does he want to keep you hidden like some dirty little secret or something? Scared that it’ll impact his bad boy image? What a dick. Give me your phone. I’m going to?—”
“Nope. I agreed to all of it.” If all the crimes I’ve committed don’t get me a one-way ticket to Hell, my current lies will.
Because byagreed, I mean that I maybe, kinda, definitely do like the lengths he’s gone to.
“Come again? You had a fuckingshrineof the dude. There’s no way—” Her face changes. “Don’t tell me you’re desperate enough to agree to that just because you want to be with him.”
Ouch.
I swallow the lump in my throat. “I’m not ready for the public limelight, or to deal with Mom’s shit when she thinks I should be withgood boys like Thomas.”
That shuts her up. Only the first half is a lie. There’s no arguing with the last part when her mommy issues are as strong as mine. Leo has tattoos, more tattoos, is an atheist, has an “unrespectable” job by Mom’s standards, and, to put it plainly, he’s white.
She’s only ever envisioned a fellow God-loving Filipino in my future. One with arespectablejob, like a doctor or lawyer or whatever the fuck Thomas does.
“And does he plan on fixing his act?” Joyce presses.
I don’t know what specifically needs fixing—that he stalks me to my face now?
“We were supposed to go on a date yesterday, but...”Again.“Mom.”
“You do realize that if he hurts you, I’m shoving his hockey stick up?—”
“I get your point. I’ll be okay.”Doubtful.
Sighing, Joyce shakes her head, pocketing her violence for the evening. I’m sure she’ll ask me more questions tomorrow.
I take her reluctance as my cue to escape. “I’m going to head to bed. It’s been a long day.” Release anxiety is no joke. Not to mention I need to start plotting book two if it goes well.
“Yeah. Let me know if you end up needing help killing him, though.”
I cringe. I hope he didn’t hear that.
