Life After Theft
Page 47

“Oh, Jeff,” her mom said, obviously not all that pleased to see me. “Come on in. Are you early?”
“Maybe a little,” I admitted. Fine. Half an hour. But I got sick of hanging around my house jumping at every noise, afraid it might be Kimberlee.
“Let me go see if Sera’s still in the gym.”
Oh man, I was so not going to miss this. I hurried to follow Sera’s mom through the hallways. Last week Sera told me about the gym. Not like with basketball hoops and tennis courts, but a spring floor and a bunch of gymnastics and weight equipment and big foamy mats that roll out so Khail can do wrestling stuff. It sounded amazing, but so far I hadn’t managed to get far enough into the house to actually see it. I was practically rubbing my hands in anticipation when Sera’s mom opened a totally normal-looking door.
And there she was.
Her back was to us and I don’t think she heard us come in. She was wearing a dark blue leotard with tiny black shorts over it. And she was doing pull-ups on a set of uneven bars. I counted as she struggled through her sixth one before dropping onto the ground, rubbing at her arms.
I couldn’t decide if it was sexy or intimidating to have a girlfriend who could do more pull-ups than me.
Sexy, I finally decided. So long as we never had to go up against each other in some kind of public contest. That would be beyond humiliating.
Then her mom spoiled everything by clearing her throat. Sera turned and as soon as she saw me, she ducked her head and her whole face and neck flushed bright red.
“Jeff’s a little early,” her mom said as though that weren’t the most obvious thing in the world.
“Hey,” I said, giving a totally lame-ass wave.
But Sera just looked at her mom. “I’ll be done in about five minutes; then I’ll send him back to the kitchen before I shower.”
“Please do,” Sera’s mother said as she left the gym, but not before pulling a little hand weight over and propping the door open.
I stepped closer to Sera and gestured at the open door. “Seriously?” I whispered, in case her mom was still in earshot.
Sera rolled her eyes. “She keeps me on a pretty short leash. At least when she’s in town. I love it when she goes on business trips with Dad. The longer, the better.”
“Why such a short leash?”
Sera was quiet for a few seconds. “I got into trouble a couple years ago,” she said quietly.
I had to shove my hands in my pockets to keep from fidgeting. “What kind of trouble?” I asked, not wanting to believe anything Kimberlee said, but not stupid enough to have missed all the little hints I’d been hearing the last couple weeks.
Sera waved the question away as she picked up a sweatshirt and pulled it over her head.
“You don’t have to dress up for me,” I said with a grin, reaching an arm out to loop around her waist.
She settled the sweatshirt down over her chest slowly before whispering, “If it were for you, I wouldn’t be putting clothes on.”
Oh. Hell. Yes.
“But I’m cold.” To prove her point she laid chilly fingers along both sides of my face. I pulled her close and kissed her nose, and when she giggled I went for her mouth.
“The door,” she whispered, twisting away.
“So,” I said, checking out the expansive spring floor. “Are you going to do something cool for me?”
She shook her head. “Sorry, I just finished the weight part of my workout and you should never tumble after weights. Way more likely to injure something.” She pushed up onto her toes and pressed a soft kiss to my cheek. “You go and make nice with my mom and I’ll get ready. I’ll be down in fifteen minutes.”
I snorted in disbelief.
“What? My mom’s not that bad. She’ll mostly just ignore you.”
“Not that. Fifteen minutes? I’ve never seen a girl get showered and ready in fifteen minutes.”
She flipped a confident look over her shoulder. “Time me.”
It took Sera exactly fourteen minutes and thirty seconds to get ready and I know because I looked at my watch every fifteen seconds the entire time she was gone. It wasn’t like Mrs. Hewitt grilled me. . . . She just didn’t do anything. Within the first thirty seconds after I walked into the kitchen she plunked down a glass of ice water in front of me—on a coaster, natch—and then said nothing. She straightened the countertops, flipped through a magazine, made notes about something in a notebook—I could only hope the notes weren’t about me—and nothing else. Not a word, not a sound.
So when I say that Sera was a sight for sore eyes, I mean she was really a sight, and that my eyes were seriously sore.
“You ready?” I asked as I stood. I didn’t take her hand or even touch her. I figured that could come later, out of sight of the mother.
“Back by ten,” her mom said, looking up from her magazine. “School tomorrow.”
Sera sighed as soon as she was safely ensconced in my car. “My mother,” she said. “I know she means well, but she’s such a perfectionist.”
“Well, she’s not here now,” I said, covering her hand with mine. “Just you and me.”
When we arrived at the movie theater, we walked up to the ticket booth and began looking through the titles.
“I think I’ve seen all of these,” Sera said.
“Like three times,” I replied. “I’m kind of surprised there’s nothing new. All of this has got to be on its way out.”