Page 107 of Flirting with 40

My mother is stalking my love life through Instagram. It doesn’t get any worse than this.

“Yes, she’s something else.”

And hell if that isn’t the goddamn truth.

“Well, Lane said—”

“Lane?” I bark out my cousin’s name. I’m going to kill the fucker as soon as I remember what I actually told him. I’ve been in my head so much these past two weeks that I’m kind of foggy on what I said and what I simply thought. “Please, tell me what you and Lane discussed.” I cross my arms across my chest and lean back in my chair.

“He just said you really had a good time. That you really liked her.”

“Uh-huh.” I draw the word out as I take a sip from my bottle of beer. “And your point?”

“My point is nothing. It just isn’t like you not to at least say something to me about a woman you go out with.”

“Yeah. Normally, I just say some shit to push your buttons.”

“Exactly, but this time, you’ve said absolutely nothing.”

“Mom, I’m tired. Can you just stop beating around the bush and get to why you stopped by here because I know it’s more than just to say hi and fix me a salad.”

She slides the salad across the counter and then grabs some salad dressing from the fridge for me.

“Thanks,” I mumble.

“You know.” She sighs and leans her hips against the counter opposite of me. “You reach this time in your life where you realize you’re growing up. That what you thought was enough before, isn’t enough any longer.”

“And?”

“And I’m just wondering if you really like this Blakely but can’t understand why this time is different, why she’s different, and so you’re fighting yourself on admitting it.”

I look up from my food and meet her eyes. There’s so much kindness and love looking back at me that my defenses crumble just a little. “All of the above and then some.”

The startle of her head tells me she’s shocked I just opened up to her. I am too.

“Then what’s the problem? If you like her, and she likes you, why are you so grumpy? Love is supposed to make you happy.”

“Let’s slow down there with the L-word, ‘kay?”

“Why does it scare you?”

And fuck does it scare me.

“It isn’t me who’s scared, all right?”

A slow smile slides onto her lips as she cocks her head to the side. Did I really just admit to my mom that I’ve fallen for Blakely? Did I really just admit that to myself?

“Tell me about her,” she says softly.

I fight my innate urge to deflect questions related to my dating life, and it doesn’t seem too hard because I miss Blakely like crazy and at the same time wonder how in the hell this happened.

I don’t fight the smile that comes. “She’s . . . something else. She’s confident and intelligent, and she has a great laugh.” I look at where my hands are clasped around my beer bottle and shake my head. “We just click. That’s the only way I can put it. I went on that stupid trip to try to help her out and left wondering what in the hell happened to me.”

My chuckle is slightly self-deprecating, but my mom’s smile is sincere.

“You know what’s funny, Slade? If I were to ask you that question about anyone else you’ve dated, your response is how she has great eyes or killer legs. It’s always about looks. With this Blakely, you didn’t make a single comment about her appearance and we both know she’s gorgeous . . . so, I don’t know about you, but to me, that says a lot.”

“I don’t know how this happened.” I rise from my seat and grab another beer I don’t really need.