Page 67 of Always Love You More

“Your house is nice,” I say quietly.

Jameson mutters a thanks, but the way he says it doesn’t sound happy. He leads me behind his father up to the front door.

Levi pushes it open and hollers, “Aubrey!” into the quiet house.

“In the kitchen,” a woman yells back.

Jameson takes my hand and positions himself in front of me as we move through the living room too quickly for me to take it in before we walk into the kitchen.

My eyes instantly land on his mother, and confusion sweeps through me. She has on skin-tight jeans, a little slinky black top, and stilettos. She’s cooking dinner instilettos.

Levi walks over to her and slides his hand down her back, sweeping it over her ass. “Smells good,” he mutters.

She turns toward him, but her attention catches on Jameson. “Oh, your face!” she gasps, staring toward us. “Levi, his face.”

It occurs to me that this is the first time she’s seen Jameson since the fight.

She takes another step, her hand coming up to his cheek.

“I’m fine, Ma,” he pushes out.

Moving back his hair, her gaze goes to the cut over his eyebrow.

“Don’t coddle him,” Levi says curtly. “He’s fine.” Then he motions to me. “Plus, we have company, remember?”

She peers around Jameson, her focus shifting to me. “God, you’re gorgeous,” she breathes before turning to Levi. “You didn’t tell me she was gorgeous.”

Just like that, Jameson is forgotten. Levi told her that he was fine, so I guess that means he’s fine.

She moves around Jameson, assessing me. “I can see why my Jameson likes you.” She trails her eyes down my body, her lips pursing when she gets to my dirty Converse. “Although your clothes could—”

“Ma,” Jameson warns.

She moves her eyes back up my body until they meet mine. “A pretty girl like you would look so much better if—”

“Jesus, Ma,” Jameson groans. “Seriously, enough.”

“What?” she says, looking over at him. “I can take her shopping, get her fixed right up.” She turns to me. “Do you want me to take you shopping?”

“Oh, I, um—”

“I always wished I had a daughter,” she says more to herself before I can respond.

“Well, you’re stuck with me,” Jameson says.

“You want a drink?” he asks, glancing over at me.

“Sure,” I answer, grateful for any reason to end this conversation.

His mother turns back to the stove while Levi takes a seat at the table. Jameson opens the fridge and gently pulls me into his side.

“I’m so sorry she said that,” he whispers.

“It’s okay,” I tell him.

“No,” he grits out, “it isn’t.” He grabs a can of Coke from the fridge and hands it to me before completely closing the space between us. “Don’t let them get into your head.”

I look up, my eyes meeting his. “I won’t,” I murmur, hoping it’s the truth.