Page 55 of Fierce-Jax
“I can give many reasons,” she said.
“Excuses. And none of them matter,” her mother said. “Take the night as it comes. If he’s as great as you say he is, he will not pressure you.”
She pursed her lips in frustration. “Maybe I want him to pressure me.”
Her mother burst out laughing. “I’m not sure where the daughter is that let nothing stop her before. Make that move yourself.”
It felt as if she had been and Jax wasn’t getting the hint.
Just like she’d done with waiting for him to ask her on a date.
But she asked him for a kiss.
Then when he finally kissed her the way she wanted, he’d lost a little control of himself.
That was what she wanted.
For him to lose control and treat her like a woman that he was extremely attracted to.
“If I have to, I will. I don’t know if it will be tonight or not.”
“You be you, Dillion,” her mother said.
“I’m ready,” Gianna yelled from upstairs.
The two of them went to get her daughter. They’d told her not to come down with her stuff. The last thing she wanted was to cancel her date because her daughter tripped and fell and got hurt.
“You can’t bring them all,” she said when she saw ten stuffed animals on the floor. There had to be at least six in a bag.
“Gianna,” her mother said. “You know we’ve got a bunch at our house.”
“But the rest of them get lonely and feel left out. You can’t leave friends behind,” Gianna said. “It’s not nice. Everyone has to be invited.”
Dillion rolled her eyes. “Well, there isn’t room for everyone. You can bring as many that fit in that bag, so pick it up and that is who gets to go. Next time you can bring others and take turns.”
“I get to have another sleepover?” Gianna asked. “Can I stay tomorrow night too?”
“No,” she said. “You need to come home tomorrow.”
“But maybe you can stay one night next weekend,” her mother said, smirking at her.
“Yes,” Gianna said, jumping up and down. Her ponytail was flopping around her head, some of her brown hair falling around her face.
“Let me fix your hair,” Dillion said. “Did you take this out and try to put it in yourself?”
“It hurt,” Gianna said. “It was pulling my hair.”
“Then let’s get a different one to hold it back,” she said, reaching for a black rubber band out of the container.
Gianna took it out of her hand and put it back. “I want the purple and pink one.”
Of course, it didn’t match her clothes, but it didn’t matter.
“Then we’ll use that one,” she said, gathering her daughter’s hair in her hands after she’d brushed it and secured it back.
“It’s time to go,” her mother said. “Mommy is going to enjoy her night.”
“Without me?” Gianna asked. “That’s not fun though.”
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