she asks, following right behind with the phone in her hand.
“Just watch,” I tell her, opening the fridge.
The phone starts to ping a few seconds later, and I walk back to her, looking over her shoulder.
Lily: OMG. For real?
Gigi: Fuck yeah.
Pike: Oh boy.
Mammoth: The first step is accepting the inevitable.
“What’s that mean?” she asks me as soon as she sees Mammoth’s text.
“He’s a little out there,” I lie, not wanting her to know he thinks we’re destined to be together.
Tamara: We could use another woman around the table.
Rocco: Mom’s going to love this.
Arlo’s eyes come to mine. “Should I worry about your mom?”
I shake my head and laugh. “No, sugar. My mother is going to love you.”
“Oh. Okay.”
“She’s different and totally badass in her own way. Just go along with whatever she says, and you’ll be fine.”
“Um,” she mumbles, pulling the corner of her lip in between her teeth.
I place my hand over hers before taking the phone back. “It’ll be fine. Go get ready because nothing makes my grandma madder than being late.”
Arlo pops up on her toes, planting a big kiss on my lips. “Thanks, Mello.”
“For what?” I ask, resisting the urge to pull her into my arms for more.
“For including me.”
“Always,” I reply, hoping I can keep the promise. “Now, go.”
She scurries away, those tight yoga pants doing nothing to help the morning wood I’ve been sporting since my eyes opened.
My hand and I are about to be best friends again, and I’m not sure how I feel about that.
But when I hear Arlo’s laughter, I know the best things lie before me and not in the past.
15
Rocco and my mother are on the front porch, waiting for us when we pull in. They’re whispering, watching us as we weave our way through the two rows of cars filling the driveway.
“Hey,” I say, giving my brother a chin lift.
“Hey,” he replies with a smirk and the same chin lift.
My mother comes down the two steps and meets us on the sidewalk. “I’m Izzy, Rocco and Mello’s mom.”
Arlo smiles, coming to a stop, not knowing my mom is a hugger and is about to pull her in. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Arlo King.”
Ma holds out her arms, motioning for Arlo to move forward. “We hug in this family, dear.”
Arlo looks at me, and I nod, before she looks back at my mom. “Okay,” she whispers, stepping quickly into my mother’s embrace.
“Another girl. The tide is turning in our favor.”
Rocco shrugs at Arlo, who’s probably giving him a confused face. “She’s obsessed with adding females to the family.”
Ma pulls back, her hands still on Arlo’s arms. “I wanted girls, but instead, I was given three pain-in-the-ass boys.”
“You love us, though,” Rocco says.
“Yeah. I do, but I would’ve loved to have a wee one to put a dress on and shop with.”
“Well, you do it with Rebel, Liv, and Adaline now, Ma.”
“True,” Ma says, smiling at Arlo as she finally releases her. “You can totally shop with us too. We go once a week and have lunch.”
“Maybe,” Arlo says softly, moving away from my mother and coming back to my side.
“Think about it.”
“I will.”
“Mello, bring her in and make sure to introduce her to everyone. Don’t do what your brother did with Rebel. Don’t be lazy.”
“I won’t be,” I promise her. “She’ll meet everyone.”
“Good.” Ma brushes her long brown hair over her shoulder, looking just as beautiful as she did when I was younger. “Welcome to the group, Arlo. Make yourself at home and eat a lot. It’ll make my mom happy.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Rocco shakes his head, and I brace for my mother’s reaction, knowing she’s always hated that word.
“Never ma’am. Izzy, Isabella, or Mom.”
“Got it, Izzy.” Arlo nods slowly. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. I just never felt like a ma’am.”
“Ma, it’s the South, for shit’s sake. You make us call other women ma’am,” Rocco reminds her.
Ma smiles, turning to my brother. “It’s respectful, and that always makes me feel younger.”
“You’re weird,” he replies.
“A woman has to keep any edge she has.”
I roll my eyes. “Can we go in?”
Ma steps to the side, motioning for us to move.
“Thanks,” I say, giving her a wink and getting one in return.
I seriously have the world’s best mother. She’s a total badass. She had to be in order to raise three crazy-as-hell boys who were hell-bent on trying to end their lives with insane antics at a young age. Then there’s my father, who isn’t easy by any stretch of the imagination. Somehow,