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“My mom stopped by my house.”
“All right.” He puts on his uniform shirt and starts to button it up.
“Has she ever just stopped by your house?”
“Once when I was sick, and she couldn’t get ahold of me and convinced herself I had been murdered.”
He smiles softly. “Thinking about it, I know exactly who you got your imagination from.”
“Now isn’t the time for that. My mom could just pop over and find us together.”
“And?”
“And . . .” I repeat with wide eyes.
“Baby, the only person in this relationship who is trying to keep this relationship a secret is you. I don’t give a fuck who knows about us.”
“You don’t care if my parents know about us?”
“Not even a little.”
“My brothers?”
“Nope.”
“Your exes.”
“Baby, I don’t have a long list of women I’ve been with.”
“What about Mia?”
“What about her?”
“You two dated, right?”
“I don’t care what she thinks either. I like you, you like me, the sex is spectacular, you don’t snore, you are adorably funny, and surprisingly, you can cook—that’s what matters to me, not what everyone will think.”
Ignoring his comment about me being able to cook because it’s not something that I really want to do, I stare at him.
“Do you really want to deal with my mom?”
“I’m currently dealing with your mom.”
“Exactly, now imagine her all up in our relationship.”
“Relationship?” He raises a brow, and I roll my eyes.
“You know what I mean.”
“Yeah, that we are in a relationship, even if you’re scared to admit it.”
“I’m not scared.”
“Sure.”
“I’m not.”
“You were burned, Genevieve, I get it, but I’m not your ex.” No, he’s not. Johnathan was completely self-serving, and Wyatt is the total opposite in every way. “Tell your mom now or don’t—it’s not going to change anything, but it might upset her that you kept something from her for longer than you should have.”
