Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
Samantha
The second I got home, I cleaned like a madwoman. It’s what I did when my mind was overwhelmed.
“How was your date last night?” she asked.
“It was nice.” I smiled.
“Nice? That’s it? What time did you get home?”
“Around 11:00.”
Her eyes narrowed at me. “You’re lying.”
“I most certainly am not.”
“Yes, you are. Oh my God, Mom!”
“What?”
“You’re glowing! You slept with him.”
I turned away from her so she didn’t see the fifty shades of red all over my face.
“Don’t be ridiculous. I am not that girl.”
“You are now!” She laughed. “I’m happy you did. You deserved to have some fun. So, how was he?”
“Zoey Anne Hollis. That is none of your business!”
“Judging by the glow that I’ve never literally seen before, I’d say he was amazing.”
“Stop it!” I pointed at her. “Go clean your room.”
“My mama had sex last night. My mama had sex last night,” she sang all the way to her bedroom.
I threw myself on the couch and placed my arm over my forehead.
“OH MY GOD!” Zoey ran into the living room holding up her phone.
“What?” I glanced at her.
“You made Page Six. He’s so hot!” She handed me her phone.
I stared at the picture of Wes and me and read the article.
“Ugh. My students are going to have a field day with this tomorrow.”
“Oh no,” she said. “My friends must have seen it. They’re blowing up my phone.” She turned and went back to her room.
There was a knock at the door. Getting up from the couch, I opened it and saw Greta standing there holding up her phone with a wide grin.
“Page Six, eh?” She stepped inside. “You’re like a celebrity now.”
“Stop it. I am not.”
“Spill the tea. I want every last detail.” She set her purse down.
“Oh, you want some tea? What kind? Chamomile, mint, ginger, green?”
“You know exactly what tea I’m talking about.”
“Oh, hey, Auntie Greta.” Zoey emerged from her room and kissed her cheek. “Did she tell you that she slept with him?”
“WHAT?!!” Greta’s eyes widened as she stared at me.
“Really, Zoey?” I cocked my head.
“You would have told her anyway.” She grabbed an apple from the fruit basket on the counter and went back to her room.
“You slept with him? Where?”
“His brownstone.”
“And what on earth possessed you to do that?”
“Look at him. Plus, my pheromones were all over the place with that damn cologne he wears.”
“I am so happy for you.” She giggled. “So, when are you seeing him again?”
“Probably never. I have a feeling last night was a one-time thing.”
“Maybe not.” She smiled.
“I don’t want to talk about it anymore,” I sighed.
She sat there and narrowed her eyes at me. “Have you—have you fallen for him after one date?”
“No! God, no. I don’t even know him.”
“You know him sexually.” She grinned. “Sometimes that’s all that matters.”
“Stop it! And don’t talk like that with Zoey around.”
“Pfft.” She waved her hand in front of her face. “She’s in her room, and I’m positive she has her AirPods in and music blasting.”
“What am I going to do about the article in Page Six? I’m sure more than half my students saw it.”
“You’re going to do nothing. You tell the students it was for the school, and you had a nice time on your date. End of story. Did Mr. Castile get your phone number by chance?” Her brows wiggled.
“No. He didn’t ask for it, and I’m torn. A part of me is happy he didn’t, and the other part is like what the fuck.”
“Ha!” She pointed. “So you have fallen for him.”
“No, I haven’t! I think it would have given me a confidence boost if he had asked.”
“Uh huh.” She nodded, glancing at her watch. “Shit. I have to run. I’m meeting Patricia to do some shopping.”
“Why?” My brows furrowed. “She’s weird.”
“I know. Trust me. I know.” She rolled her eyes. “Apparently, I promised a while back that I would help her find a dress for this thing she has to go to next weekend. I totally forgot, and she cornered me.”
“That’s because she doesn’t have anyone else because she’s so strange,” I smirked.
“Yeah. Yeah.” She stood up and hugged me. “I’m happy you had sex. Now, maybe you can get out of your Gym Girl Brittany funk.”
“Who?” I smiled.
“That’s my girl.” She winked.
“Mom! What are you doing? We’re going to be so late.” Zoey burst into my bedroom.
I slowly opened my eyes and looked at the clock. We had thirty minutes until we had to be at school.
“Fuck!” I shouted, jumping out of bed. “Go, Zoey. You can still make it on time. Tell Greta I’m running late and to keep an eye on the class until I get there. Go now!”
A devilish grin crossed her lips. “Good luck today, Mom. I can already foresee it.” She laughed.
“Get out of here!” I threw a pillow at her.
I quickly jumped in the shower. I knew I shouldn’t have finished off that bottle of wine last night. I was so invested in Love Island that I kept pouring, and before I knew it, the bottle was empty.
After showering, I ran a brush through my hair, threw it up in a ponytail, got dressed, and flew out the door. I hadn’t had any coffee yet, and trust me when I say that isn’t a good thing. Especially, with the fierce headache I had going on.