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Words. I need to use words. But all the blood seems to have left my brain. “Funeral!” I manage to yell. Her brow lowers as her head tilts. “She’s at a funeral?”
I nod and clear my throat. “I’m, uh, just supporting from a distance. That’s all.”
But she isn’t the least bit deterred. "Oh, Tommy, you should bring her by! Let her hang out and relax after all the awfulness."
But I'm immediately shaking my head in dismissal. "No way, Ma. It's not like that... we're not really an item yet. I can’t introduce her to my mother.”
She dismisses my protest with a wave of her hand. "Hey, you might increase your chances if she meets me. I’m pretty awesome.”
I laugh. She’s not wrong though. Growing up, all my girlfriends loved my mother. "Okay, yes, you are.” I’m rolling my eyes, knowing she was fishing for that little compliment. “But I definitely don't need you as my wingman, Ma. Actually, I should probably head out and find her." Rising from my seat, I lean over to kiss her cheek, giving my palms a final brush to free them from crumbs. I’m still chewing as I head toward the front door.
"Alright, baby. I did make up one of the guest rooms for you, and there's fresh towels in the shower. Just give me a call if you need a lift. Your car might struggle with the snow here," she says, picking up her crossword puzzle book.
“Sounds good, ma. Don’t wait up.” I’m already at the front door when a howl slices through the silence, prompting me to spin around. Murphy, my mom’s dog, is sitting on the wood floor, looking like I’ve stolen his favorite chew toy. He’s obviously not pleased I’m leaving so soon. "Sorry, Murph. I'll be back tonight, okay?" I pat his head, and his cold nose prods my palm for more. This beautiful dog is so spoiled, but I love it. Everything about being home is, for lack of a better word, wonderful. It’s as if no time at all has passed. Comfort and love are all my mom knows, and after hearing about Tilly’s family, I know exactly how lucky I am.
With a final scratch under the dog's chin, I step out into the cold, my thoughts already on Tilly and seeing her in that completely fuckable dress. Hopefully, me showing up unannounced doesn’t trounce my chances of showing her how beautiful she is. I have a feeling it won’t be well received, but hell, when has that ever stopped me before?
Ten minutes later, I’m wandering into the resort lobby. Soft music is playing overhead as guests walk about in groups and pairs. Some have the unmistakable signs of snow burn on their faces. When would tourists learn? Sunscreen, especially when skiing. I tend to overdo it with sun protection. I’ve seen far too many old surfers that have the telltale scars of overexposure from years of being out in the sun. They look like fried ball sacks, and I will NOT let myself get like that. Ever.
Rather than asking which room is hers, I decide to hang out in the lobby to keep an eye out. Showing up at her door could result in a punch to the face, but running into her could ease some of the surprise. I pull out my phone and start watching videos. Every so often, I look up and scan my surroundings for her.
Before I know it, a half hour passes. I’m a patient guy, but this is getting ridiculous. Ready to give up and just call her, I stand up. But as I walk toward the front desk, I see her.
Dressed in a floor-length sparkling purple dress, her hair looks like it's been cut. Where it used to flow over her shoulders and halfway down her back, now it rests in a bob just above the shoulders. The sight is a little jarring. Tilly has always been incredibly proud of her gorgeous long locks. But I have to admit, she looks fantastic. Even her boobs seem bigger in the dress. But why change out of the green dress? Purple is cool, but damn in the green, she looked like a goddamn sea goddess.
I’m overwhelmed with the urge to grab onto her. I suddenly feel like she won’t be mad at me for following her up here. My mom, as dorky as it sounds, gave me the little push I needed. Tilly’s little jealous display at the surf shop, the way her mouth had twitched into a grin when I pulled her close, the heat radiating from her body as we had our arms wrapped around each other, it felt right.
And that picture? Yeah, she knew what she was doing. Little tempting mermaid.
Maybe I’m a conceited fool, but I know she wants me as much as I want her. How her eyes had filled with fire at the sight of other women flirting with me was undeniable. It was as if she was marking her territory. Her face had said it clearly; Back off, bitches, this one is taken.
This is exactly what we need. One of us has to be the first to push things further. I’m done playing coy. If I can get her in my arms again, I know it will melt away her anger. We’ve spent years dancing around our attraction, and it's finally time to give in to it completely.
With that in mind, I creep over, a mischievous grin on my face, until I’m right behind her. She is talking to a hotel staff member about some dinner arrangements, so I wait for my opportunity.
When the staff member leaves, I know it's my chance. With a gentle touch, I slip an arm around her waist just like she had when the girls were flirting with me at the surf shop. “Miss me?” I ask, my voice low.
But as Tilly whips around, something is very wrong. The way she is staring at me is all wrong. As if I’m a complete stranger.
"Who the hell are you?" she demands, her eyes like two daggers stabbing into me.
"Uh, Tommy?”
"Well, Tommy, I don't appreciate being groped. I'm half tempted to have security escort you out!" she snaps back. Her voice... it's off. Darker, less cheerful than Tilly's. And her speech, just a shade crisper.
"Sorry, I thought you were someone else," I say, feeling my cheeks heat up with embarrassment.
She sighs, rubbing her temples. "Matilda?"
Confused, I tilt my head. Didn’t Greg say something about her having a different name? Yes, Matilda Cardenas, that’s right. "You mean Tilly?"
"Yeah, she's still getting ready. Why didn't she put you on the list? Typical Tilly," she grumbles, mirroring Tilly's mannerisms so closely it's uncanny. "Look, you can't go in dressed like that. Got a tux?"
I'm still trying to wrap my head around the fact that this Tilly lookalike is standing in front of me. "No, I don't," I admit.
With a resigned sigh, she motions for me to follow her to the elevator. "Grayson should have something in your size."
As we ride up, she scrutinizes me. "What happened to your face?"
