“Just… back later,” Dad mutters and he’s walking past us.
“What’s going on?” Mom asks, looking confused.
Stacy looks uncomfortable.
Jase gets closer. “Can’t touch you until tomorrow that is.”
And the threat along with the heat against my neck has me moving away from him.
“You know what? I think I’ll grab something later,” I say, ignoring my hunger. “I’ll just change so we can do what we were gonna do, yeah, Stacy?”
“Um… sure…”
Jase is wearing a panty-removing smile, dimples popping, while my brother is putting his fork down, looking like he lost his appetite.
I grab a pancake from the platter, dunk it in the puddle of syrup on my father’s abandoned plate and fold it in half, eating it on the way upstairs.
I hear Grey say, “Outside.”
And he’s saying it in a way that sounds like he’s pissed off.
I want out of here as fast as possible, so this desire wins over my desire to know what that’s about. I rush to my bathroom and quickly wash the dirt off my feet before I go into my closet and shed everything I’m wearing other than my bra because I put it on fresh after my bath last night. I throw some clean clothes on, put my hair up into a ponytail, roll on deodorant, spritzing a little perfume, and get into a pair of slides that won’t irritate my heel blisters.
After a quick two-minute makeup application, I check my phone battery percentage and grab my power pack, plugging it in and slipping both into my purse before I jog downstairs, grab one more cold pancake before lifting the syrup and butter to take them to the kitchen where Mom and Stacy are already working on cleaning up.
“Mom, I need out of here in a hurry. You mind if I grab Stacy and run?”
“Okay,” Mom says but I know she doesn’t agree. “I have to tell you, I’m worrying about you.”
“Don’t.”
She has enough to worry about.
She keeps going. “I think you’re avoiding your feelings and that’s not healthy. It sounds like you went through a lot on that trip and I don’t want you to think I’m not on your side. I’m on your side, always, I just know Jase is what you’ve wanted for a long time and right now you’re pushing your feelings away because it seems easier, but sooner or later you need to acknowledge these emotions you’re having and when you do, I’m here. Day or night.”
This is not what I need right now, but I know Mom is worried.
“Yes, I’m feeling a lot of things right now and doing my best to avoid these feelings, so I don’t have a full-scale nervous breakdown. I have a mission and I’m choosing to focus on that instead. I’m an adult and I don’t need or appreciate being treated like a naughty child because you all want me to play the Jase game I don’t want to play.”
“I apologize for that. You’re right. But… what’s the mission?” Mom asks, concern etched into her features.
“I’m putting together a petition to present to the SCC where females can dispute a claiming by an alpha before it happens and I want it rushed and done before tomorrow afternoon so I can call in a favor to Dr. Blakely or to Lucinda Walsh. I’m hoping to get the Youngs to extend my three-day reprieve so he can’t claim me while the SCC reviews the law change request. If I get the ball rolling far enough along, that might be the best way forward.”
“Mitchell Blakely might be coming over. It’s being discussed because of what’s happening with Cicely’s mate,” Mom says.
“Will he be here today or tomorrow?” I ask.
“I don’t know,” Mom says.
“I’ll see what I can find out. Thanks, Mom.” I hug her. “Don’t worry about me. I’m worried about you too, you know. And Dad.”
“Dad and I will get through. I know how powerful a thing scent can be and your brother’s cousins are working on helping us get things back to normal. But speaking of scent, boy, you smell good, honey,” Mom says, leaning in. “Are you wearing a new perfume?”
Stacy stifles a laugh.
We both look at her as I say, “Just put on my usual stuff.”
Stacy shakes her head and waves her hand. “Don’t mind me.”