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  “Well I’m here if you need someone to give him a stern talking-to.”

  “You’re always first in my contacts. You okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine. I just have to break up with Adler.”

  “Yes, you do. Don’t wait. Just rip the Band-Aid off.” Daniella was right, but that was easier said than done.

  ✶

  Relying on a driver makes it real easy to forget addresses. It also prevents you from learning addresses in the first place. I walked right out of the apartment without saying a word to Adler, who was on the phone with Sienna talking shit about me as I passed through the living room. That pissed me off enough to fuel my rage halfway to Santa Monica and Adler’s shitty text almost got me to the PCH.

  Just gonna leave like that? her text said. I was too angry to wait to respond. I pulled over and shot her a text back.

  The lease is up in six months. Do what you want with that information. I hit send then I silenced her notifications.

  And then I called Holger. I needed the address to the house.

  ✶

  The sun was going down as I pulled up the last incline to Michael’s house. I imagined Holger waiting by the security cameras because the gates swung open the moment I reached them. And Michael was there, walking out the front door just as I put my car in park. Hair pulled up, barefoot, in a tattered UCLA hoodie and boxers and still as gorgeous as ever. I walked right up to him. He took my cheeks in his hands. I knew my eyes were still red and puffy. That must have been why he kissed my lids before he made his familiar trip to my dimples and my lips.

  “Didn’t go well?” he asked.

  I shook my head. “She thought I was using you ’cause that’s what she’d planned to do.”

  “What do you want to do now?”

  “Be with you. That’s what I want.”

  “Here.”

  “Yeah.” We had to work out some details, but it seemed silly to go on another apartment hunt. I loved Michael and he wanted me to live with him. The move was already on the books. Why not move it up a few months?

  “I’ll send Holger over to get your stuff in the morning.”

  “Okay. But there’s one more thing I have to do.”

  “We have to call you mother.”

  “Yup. We have to call my mom.”

  “Tomorrow?”

  “Please. I just want to lie down. And make out with you.”

  Michael’s chest shook as he let out a little chuckle. “I think we can arrange that.”

  ✶

  I had to remember not to roll my eyes. My parents could see us, but my mom was giving new meaning to the third degree. We had a plan. I knew I’d go nuts hanging out around the house with Holger while Michael was at the office every day, so I would keep looking for jobs and then enroll in classes in the fall. I also wanted to make some money of my own. Michael was more than generous and I knew I couldn’t contribute to his mortgage or the upkeep on the jet, but I wanted to contribute to my own expenses. It was the best way for me.

  It wasn’t exactly working for my parents though. I was an adult and they weren’t so strict and controlling to try to fly out to California just to yank me out of Michael’s house, but they had their beliefs and their opinions about how a man and a woman ought to conduct their private lives.

  “Michael, you see why I’m worried,” my mom said. We had her and my dad on video chat. Kiara showed them how to use her tablet to call us and then they’d promptly kicked her out of the room. My dad was taking the news of Michael and I living together in stride, but my mom had almost shit a duck. “I met her last boyfriend’s parents before we let him come stay the summer. And now you’re telling me you’re living together and this is the first time I’ve seen your face.”

  “He wasn’t my last boyfriend, mom.”

  “He was the last boyfriend I knew about. I just want Michael to know—”

  “Mom, he knows.”

  Finally my dad chimed in. “Michael, I do not believe a couple should live together before they’re married, but I know things are different these days. I’m going to take your word that you’re going to take care of my Kayla.”

  “I will, Mr. Davis.”

  My mom wasn’t done yet though. “And you can also see where I’d have a problem with an older white man trying to shack up with my young, black daughter.”

  “Oh my goodness. Mom! This isn’t a church play. Michael is not a confederate sympathizer. We’re dating. We’re living together and everything is cool and not racist and creepy.”

  Michael was horrified, but he and my father were both trying not to laugh.

  “We’ll let you two go,” my dad said. He knew my mom had hit her rational limit. “We’d like to meet you some time soon, Michael.”

  “If you’ll have me, I’d love to come down with Kayla to visit.”

  “You’re sleeping in separate bedrooms when you get here. Shacking up with an old white man. I see the gray in that beard. Your daddy doesn’t even have that much grey hair—” My mom was still muttering to herself when she dipped out of the frame and left the room.

  “Our door is open,” my dad said. “Kayla Renee, you call us next week.”

  “I will Dad. Love you.”

  “Love you too.” I waited a few seconds while my dad figured out how to end the video chat. Then I turned to Michael.

  “It gets worse than that. I have two sisters, remember. And they are just like my mom.”

  “I can handle it.”

  “You sure? You can’t buy your way out of that madness, buddy.”

  “Then I’ll just have to win them over by taking really good care of you.”

  “I think I can handle that. Dinner then butt stuff by the fire pit?”

  Michael snorted then kissed me on my lips. “Anything for my lady. Lead the way.”

  The End

  What’s Next From Rebekah!

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  About the Author

  Rebekah was raised in Southern New Hampshire and now lives in Southern California with a great human, one cat whom she loves dearly and another cat she wants to take back to the shelter.

  Her interests include Wonder Woman collectibles, cookies, James Taylor, whatever Nicki Minaj is doing at any given moment, quality hip-hop, football, American muscle cars, large breed dogs, and the ocean. When she's not working, writing, reading, or sleeping, she is watching HGTV and cartoons, or taking dance classes. If given the chance, she will cheat at UNO.

  Come on by and get to know Rebekah on Facebook, Twitter, or Tumblr. You can find more stories by Rebekah at rebekahweatherspoon.com

  @rebekahwsm

  Rebekah Weatherspoon

  www.rebekahweatherspoon.com

  [email protected]

  Copyright

  Copyright © 2015 Rebekah Weatherspoon

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the author.

  First Edition: September 2015

  Credits

  Editor: Anya Richards

  Cover Design by Awesomesauce Designs

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events are purely coincidental.

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