Chapter 23

And Anton didn’t care. His hand remained tucked between Jude’s legs, dangerously high, and yet Jude’s thumb, still tucked into his belt, never so much as twitched. 8

“Okay, I’ll bite,” Mum said, sliding into the seat opposite Anton at the kitchen island. “What’s up?”

“Huh? Nothing.”

“It’s Sunday morning, and you’re cheerful.”

“I’m allowed to be happy,” Anton groused, still texting furiously.

“Except on Sunday mornings, when it’s nothing but your miserable face because you have to put up with your dad for a few hours,” Mum said. She squinted at him. “Who are you texting?”

“Jude.”

“And what does Jude say?”

Want to come over? larimer n walsh both skipping out like losers so i cba to go to footie. come entertain me ;) xxx

“Nothing,” Anton said instead.

Mum huffed. “Fine,” she said. “Keep your secrets. Now can I go and run a long bath and pretend I’m still nineteen and haven’t even met your father yet, or are you skipping out on his visit again?”