As for him hanging out with his dad, that was a different kind of problem. Nerves were natural, but with her luck, Jeremy would be nothing but charming and by the end of the meal, her son would want to relocate to LA and leave her behind. Although that would solve the “I can’t leave my mom” problem, that wasn’t how she wanted it to happen.

“Don’t start worrying about things that haven’t happened yet,” she told herself as she reached for her phone.

Want to see my tattoo?

Keith responded instantly. I can’t believe you really did that.

I said I would.

There wasn’t a response, but seconds later, she heard a knock on her door. She opened it and found Keith standing in the hallway.

“What were you thinking?” he asked.

“It was on my list. I told you I was going to do it. All you guys act so tough and worldly, but you’re not at all. Coop was practically hysterical.”

“That his mother got a tattoo? Hmm, I wonder why that is.”

She grinned. “Want to see it?”

Keith hesitated. “Where is it?”

She rolled her eyes. “Nowhere bad. Just on my hip.” She turned her back and unfastened her pants, then pushed them and the granny panties down. “It’s a shooting star.”

“Uh-huh.”

He sounded farther away as he spoke. She glanced over her shoulder and saw he was at the far end of the room.

“It’s not a disease,” she told him, pulling up her pants. “What are you afraid of?”

“I’m being cautious. I didn’t know how many clothes you were going to take off.”

The unexpected statement hurt her feelings. “Because it would be so awful to see me naked? Gee, thanks for the compliment.”

He groaned. “It wouldn’t be awful. It would be—” He took a step toward her, stopped. His whole body tensed. “Could we please not talk about you being naked?”

“Because it’s too gross?” She squared her shoulders, determined to be strong in the face of what seemed to be mean comments. “I’ll have you know I look good naked.”

His jaw clenched. “I’m sure you do. I just don’t need that in my head right now. Thinking about you naked isn’t comfortable.” He held up a hand. “It’s a guy thing, okay? Can you trust me on that? It’s not that I wouldn’t like to see your body. This is not me dissing you.”

Some of her hurt faded. “So you would like to see me naked?”

He swore. “Ellen, please. Change the subject.”

She looked at him. He was a big strong guy. Very masculine and comfortable in his own skin. Which was weird to think about because they’d always only been friends. But now, studying his body and thinking how much they enjoyed each other’s company, she wondered what it would be like to be more than friends.

Not, you know, in love or anything, but intimate. She smiled. Sex. She was talking sex.