“Did you sleep with him?”
“I am not answering that question.”
A slow smile curved her lips. “You don’t need to. You’ve got that I-just-had-sex look on your face.”
“Gross.”
“Why’s it gross? Sex is?—”
“Do not finish that sentence. I don’t need my mother to tell me what sex is. I’m leaving. Donotwake?—”
“Me?”
Shit.
Slowly, she turned toward the deep, raspy voice…and there he was, looking tall and beautiful as per usual. “You’re dressed.”
His lips twitched. “Yes, ma’am. And showered. I do like to keep up with personal hygiene.”
“Morning, Joel,” her mother sang.
Polly wrinkled her nose. Why was there so much excitement in her mother’s voice? Was she actually excited that her daughter had just had sex under the same roof as her? And shouldn’t she be hungover?
Joel smiled. “Good morning, Liv.”
“Okay.” Polly clapped her hands together. “I’m running out.”
She rushed to the kitchen. But of course, steady footsteps followed.
“Where are you going?” he asked.
“I’m just checking something out.”
“What?”
She grabbed a granola bar from the pantry. “A church.” She didn’t want to lie. She was a terrible liar.
“A church?”
“Uh-huh. You’d hate it.” She turned to see him frowning at her.
“You have a sudden interest in faith?”
“Something like that.”
His frown deepened, suspicion creeping into his features. “I’ll come.”
“No. Like I said, you’d hate it.”
“We won’t know until we get there, will we?”
Dammit.
She tried to slip out from between him and the counter. “I actually want to do this alone.”
Out. Good.
She got all the way to the door and had just started to open it when a hand pressed to the wood, sealing it closed.
