A/N: Transition chapter to work up to more of the good stuff:)
*
Kevin was a punk ass coward and left well before Josh's mom made it home. Josh wandered downstairs with him and then stayed to wait for his mom, because he knew she was going to want to talk about the ISS and he didn't want to have it in his room: air heavy with the scent of memory and the temptation of his mother's reflection in his computer screen.
He did actually manage to concentrate enough to get through a chapter of chemistry, but he completely lost every train of thought he had when he heard her car pull into the driveway, his hands going white knuckled on the edges of the book.
"You can do this," he murmured, closing his eyes to bolster his courage.
He opened them to see his mother walking through the doorway, looking crisp and elegant, even at six o'clock on a Monday evening, in her trim black skirt and deep red blouse. He hastily tried to quell every thought that leapt into his mind about what she was wearing under them, and almost groaned aloud when he failed spectacularly.
"Hey, mister," she said, hanging up her coat in the closet. "I got a call today at work." She eyed him as she closed the closet and picked up her briefcase again.
Josh put his textbook on the table and stood, hands shoved in his pocket as he shifted on his feet. "Yeah, Coach said he was going to call you."
"Help me fix dinner, and tell me about it."
"Not much to tell," he said, following her into the kitchen.
She raised an eyebrow at him before opening the refrigerator. "I'd agree with you, except that in eighteen years of being your mom, I've never been called by the school," she said, handing cheese, tomatoes, and lettuce to him. "Not for fighting anyway," she added as she grabbed a package of ground beef and shut the fridge. "This leads me to deduce with my mom-like skills that something worth telling happened."
Josh shrugged and grabbed a knife, jumping slightly when his mom put a hand on his shoulder.
"Hey," she said, handing a cutting board to him. "You know I'm not the bad guy, right? And that I trust you to handle most things, but calls from the school are a big deal."
Josh swallowed hard, unable to meet her eyes because he could feel the heat of her all down his left side, which meant that he wouldn't be able to move away from the counter anytime in the near future.
"It's not a big deal," Josh finally said, voice not even close to even. "Coach didn't even lecture me on it."
He could see her smile briefly out of the corner of his eye, but thankfully she moved away to take down a pan. "Then if it's not a big deal you can tell me about it. And if Coach didn't lecture you, that means I get to."
Josh took a deep breath, and then the easy way out as he concentrated on keeping his hands steady while chopping. "Some guy was talking trash about a girl. She didn't deserve it and I got upset."
"Is she one of your girlfriends?"
"No," Josh said, realizing that he was on shaky ground, but unable to not continue. "But she's someone I like. A lot, and I just...he shouldn't have been talking about her like that."
"I get that sometimes a point seems simply made with a punch to the nose, but in the real world that can often lead to a night in jail too."
Yeah, I know. I just reacted, I didn't even think."
"Next time think," his mother suggested, moving next to him to rummage through the cabinet for spices. She was reaching up, her shirt stretched against her sides, straining at her breasts. "They might still deserve a punch, but at least you'll be in control instead of out of it."
He didn't turn quick enough to be able to avoid her eyes when she shut the cabinet and he was struck by how beautiful she was. Brown hair streaked lighter in some places, straight and thick and cut short around her face. He remembered the smell of it when he was seven, tucked up into bed with her arm around him as she read Robinson Caruso. It smelled like honey and wild berries and it was soft as butterfly's wings when it brushed up against his cheek.
He wondered what it smelled like now as her lips -- wide and gorgeous and still tinged pink from the lipstick she'd put on that morning -- curled up in a smile.
"You really like this girl don't you?" his mother asked, her voice soft with curiosity.
"Yeah," he said roughly. "I really do."
His mom trailed a hand up his arm, squeezing his shoulder before briefly -- breathtakingly -- pressing a kiss to his cheek.
"You should invite her over for dinner," he heard his mom say through his haze of lust. "I'd love to meet her."
Feeling ridiculous and reckless, he heard himself say. "She's a lot like you."
***
"Did you do stupid stuff when you were my age?" he asked, glancing up from wiping his hands on a dishtowel.
Dinner was over and he'd just finished doing the dishes as part of his penance and already his mom had files and papers spread out over the dining room table.
"Of course I did," she said with a grin, her square framed glasses somehow making her even more attractive. "Everyone does stupid stuff when they're a kid."
"I'm not a kid anymore," he said pointedly, as he dropped into a chair across from her.
"No, I guess you're not," she agreed, nodding.
"So what kind of stuff did you do?" he pressed.
"I never punched a guy in the nose," she said, "so don't even think about trying to wiggle out of your punishment."
Josh sighed. "Did you not just see me clean the kitchen without complaint?" he asked, waving a hand back towards the spotless counters. "And give me a break, I'm trying to learn for your experience. That's what you always tell me, isn't it?"
She leaned back in her chair, removing her reading glasses to give him a long look. It didn't make his pants anymore comfortable because she was just as hot without them, but he was determined to see this through. Determined to see if she would tell him about her past.
"I know this isn't a crack about my age because you're smarter than that," she said finally, her lips curving up in the beginnings of a smile. "So I'll take this at face value and say that I did a lot of stuff that I'm not proud of. I smoked and drank a lot during high school. Tried drugs. Lied about my age once so that I could get a job at a bar. Stole a coat from Niemen Marcus: it was gorgeous and cashmere, and I wore it until it was falling apart."
