Page 35 of Unlikely
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“Mom,” Raine calls out from the bathroom. “Can you drive me to work? I slept in and I’m going to miss the bus.”
“Of course,” I shout back from my bedroom. “I don’t have plans of my own, I’ve just been waiting here with bated breath for you to need me.”
A few minutes of silence pass and then Raine appears in my doorway. “But seriously, is it okay if you take me?”
“Of course, babe,” I say reassuringly. “You know I’ll take any reason to skip a workout. Let me just change, though, because I’ll go straight to work from there.”
After I take off my gym gear, I have a shower, choosing not to wash my hair and get ready for work. I don’t love that I need a full face of makeup to work at The Hills, and because I have to get Raine to Wonderwood sooner rather than later, I’ll end up having to do it in the car.
Tipping my head upside down, I cover my roots with dry shampoo before styling the loose curls to fall around my face and down my back. Grabbing my fitted tank knit dress from my closet, I slide it down my body, make sure all the seams and zippers are in the right place, and call it a day.
“Raine, I’m ready,” I say as I pass her room and walk down the stairs. “Do you want me to make you something to eat? Grab you a granola bar?”
“A granola bar will do.” She barrels down the stairs wearing skinny jeans and a black tee, her hair in a perfectly styled fish braid. “Actually, make that two.”
I grab them out of the pantry and throw them her way before I lock up the house and we both make our way to the car.
The traffic is pretty shitty, but I’m learning that it’s par for the course here in L.A., and I’m grateful that it’s so bad, as it puts Raine off from wanting her own car. When we arrive at the café, I feel almost blessed from the heavens that there’s a parking spot right out front.
“Thank you so much, Mom.” Raine leans over, kissing me on the cheek. “I’ll text you what time I’ll be home, because I might attend a study group later.”
“All good. There are leftovers in the fridge if you decide to eat at home,” I inform her. “And I won’t be home till about nine since I’m closing up tonight.”
“Got it. Love you.”
As she hops out of the car and closes the door behind her, a gorgeous-looking Clementine steps into my line of sight, meeting Raine on the sidewalk and throwing an affectionate arm over her shoulders before running a hand over her braid, clearly appreciating it.
The closed window and distance from the car, means I can’t hear anything either of them are saying, relying solely on their mannerisms. Clementine doesn’t notice the car, or me, until Raine says something that has her looking back.
She glances between me and Raine and then points at her hair. Raine nods and then turns and walks into Wonderwood on her own.
I feel myself fidget in my seat as Clementine approaches the car, our communication lately completely reliant on text. It’s been a little over a week, and I’ve been enjoying the slow crawl of it all. The night with her was explosive and unparalleled with anything I’ve ever done before. But there’s something to be said about living in a constant state of anticipation.
Will she text? Won’t she?
What will she tell me? What won’t she tell me?
I don’t know which one of us is using willpower and which one of us is being indulgent, but either way, we’re always meeting in the middle, our texts full of give and take, less is more, now or maybe later.
Usually shy in public, I’m surprised when Clementine has no issue rounding the car, opening the passenger door, and climbing right in.
“Hey, you,” I greet, always so surprised by how understated her beauty is. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”
“I told Raine I was going to ask you some questions about coloring my hair, but I really just wanted to say hi.” She shifts in the seat till she’s facing me. “Hi.”
We stare at each other, our mouths tipping up in subtle smiles, the air around us comfortable and content.
“Can I take you out on a date?” I blurt out.
Her head turns to the café entrance, and my thoughts immediately follow hers. “I have no issues with telling her,” I say.
“Telling her what exactly?” Clementine snaps, her gaze still locked onto Wonderwood, her tone full of attitude. “That you fucked her friend?” A humorless laugh leaves her mouth as she turns to face me, that Clem mask slipping right back on with way too much ease. “You’ll tell her you fucked her friend and then what?”
If I’d known asking her out on a date would make her skittish and have her reduce what we did together to a simple fuck, I would’ve waited. But the words fell from my mouth so easily, because I want it so badly.
Hating the distance between us, I lean over the center console, curl my hand around her neck, and bring her close enough to me that she’s inhaling my exhale.