Mora’s Point of view
As soon as we get into the kitchen, Mom is asking me to spill. Spill what?
“You never told me this was so serious,” she says. What is she even talking about?
“Huh?”
“You guys are all over each other,” she whispers.
“No, we aren’t,” I chuckle. He had his arm around me. That’s it!
“You kinda were. Neither of you could keep your hands to yourself. You both seem so calm and comfortable with each other. It looks so easy… but you can see there’s real passion there,” she says, whispering passion. Now I’m full-on laughing.
“How did you come to that conclusion?” I press.
“Oh, just because he wasn't undressing you with his hands, doesn't mean he doesn’t do it with his eyes, and you’re guilty of the same,” she teases.
“I don't even know what you’re talking about,” whi
