Page 75 of Fast Currents
I bit my lip. Did I tell him, or leave him guessing?
“She’s already threatened to murder me if I hurt you.”
Clay chuckled, shaking his head. “That’s my mom for you.”
“Great.”
It was a good thing Clay’s parents loved him. Better than the alternative, for sure. His mom had certainly made a strong first impression. I could only try to convince her that Clay didn’t need protecting from me.
He tugged me back into his arms, squeezing hard enough to weld me back together. “You’ll be fine. I have faith in you, Lucifer.”
Nuzzling closer, I sighed. He smelled like garlic and rosemary. Like home.
“You remember that I blow glass because punching people is frowned upon?”
His chuckle rumbled between us. “Yes. She’ll warm up to you. You’ll see.”
I wasn’t so sure, but arguing with Clay would be futile. My energy was better directed toward winning over his mom. I picked up a glass. Plying her with wine probably couldn’t hurt.
Clay and I settled onto the smaller loveseat in his living room, his arm around me. His mother clocked the gesture, her expression inscrutable.
After taking a long pull on my wine, I forced a smile and asked brightly, “Did you have a good trip?”
We passed an hour with pleasantries and small talk about their journey. First, the flight from Colorado to SeaTac, then the shuttle and ferry ride. They’d been traveling for well over eighteen hours. And it was clear from the effort they put into making small talk with me instead of crashing for a nap, they loved their son. I could cut them some slack.
Clay’s dad was easy to love. It was clear where Clay had gotten his charm from. His mother was more reserved. Still friendly on the outside, but every move seemed stilted. Like it wasn’t quite sincere. To be fair, it took me a while to warm to new people too.
I offered Clay’s mom the front seat as we piled into his truck for the drive to dinner, but she declined. “I’ll sit with my husband, thank you.”
Their low voices didn’t quite carry to the front seat, but I couldn’t shake the impression that they were talking about me.
Dinner was slightly better, Clay and his dad carrying the conversation, while his mom and I pushed food around on our plates.
By the time we got home, I was exhausted and out of sorts. We said our good nights, and Clay and I retired to our room.
“Hey.” He wrapped me up in a tight hug. “Everything okay?”
I nodded, snuggling deeper into his chest. My happy place. “I think it’s going to be a minute before your mom and I are besties.”
“I’d settle for not at each other’s throats. You’ve got this, Luce.”
“I want her to like me,” I admitted. “It just feels like… I’m being compared to someone I can’t compete with.”
His arms tightened slightly, giving me the courage to ask what I really wanted to know.
“She probably adored Jen,” I added quietly. “I get that. I’m not trying to replace her. But I don’t want to feel like I’m always falling short.”
He paused, like he was choosing his words carefully, testing them out in his head before saying them aloud. “She was always… polite with Jen.”
I snorted, pulling back to see his expression. “Really?”
“I think she’s more herself with you.”
“Threats come standard?”
His smile flashed. “Ooh, she really likes you.”
I laughed. “She doesnot.”
