Page 60 of Hiding from Hope

Casey

I’m achy.

Like, the good kind of achy where every time I stretch out my muscles during each pose in my classes today, I feel good and a small smile forms on my lips.

Then I get flashes of yesterday. The man and the beast. The gentleman and the lover. That shower led to three more orgasms. Jessie hadn’t let me leave his embrace until I snuck out this morning for my first class at 5am, and I hadn’t a moment to check my phone or have a break since, to really piece it all together.

Now I am in the cooldown of my last class, it is 7pm, and I am too exhausted to even try to think about what happened and what it all meant.

I’ve been taking Grace’s classes for a couple of weeks now, and if I don’t hand ball some of them soon, I am going to fall on my face. We have two studios and five instructors. Four with Grace out, and I can’t keep this up. It isn’t good for me.

I’m barely registering the goodbyes as the staff file out, and I pull my phone from my bag as I lock up the studio. It’s ringing the moment I turn to walk up the street toward the apartment, and because I’m about to start sleep walking, I answer it before I see who it is.

“Hi, sweetie!” My mom’s melodic voice travels through the speaker phone and a kernel of warmth hits me as I blink back the tears of relief. Hearing Mom’s voice when I feel this crap wins over any control I try to have over my emotions.

“Hi, Mom! I’m sorry I haven’t called you back in a bit. It’s been a bit crazy over here.”

“I know, darling. But it’s all going to be okay,” she assures me, and even though she can’t make those kinds of promises, hearing them from her helps, even if it’s just a bunch of empty words.

“Thanks. How’s Dad? Where are you guys at the moment?”

“Good. My turn on the driving, so he is napping. We’re stopping in Kansas City, making our way back, but might stop in Memphis and see Grandad before we head on back to Virginia,” she explains, and I can hear the smile on her face at the excitement in seeing her dad. We don’t get out that way very much.

“Send him my love.”

“I will. Casey—”

“I don’t want to talk about Grace, Mom,” I almost whisper into the phone because I can’t muster the strength or energy to hash it all out. I am sure she has some story or another from Grace, but thankfully, Mom has a habit of taking Grace’s stories with a grain of salt, and coming to me for the accurate details.

“Okay, that’s fine, sweetie. But you’re going to have to talk about it soon. I know you’re going to store all this in your head until you’re too tired and implode. I don’t want you to implode on your own. I hate to think I can’t be there for you or Grace.” Mom might be aware of my tendency to bottle up and cry alone once a month. With the way my emotions have been running, I think, at this rate, I’m at once a week, but even if I did return to my ways, something tells me I wouldn’t be alone this time.

“I’m not alone, Mom. I have the girls and—”

I stop myself before I say too much. My need for sleep is affecting the seal of my words and my mom gasps at my silence because she is a genius and can read me like a damn book.

“Casey Moira Baker… is there another boy on the scene?” Her joy at that sentence makes my eyes roll.

“No, Mom, I haven’t even been single a year.”

“Don’t you lie to me; I can practically see your shifty eyes. You get that from your father.”

That makes me chuckle, and I hear a grumble in the background as Mom also chuckles to herself.

“You can keep your secrets for now, miss. But we’ll be in New York in maybe two or three weeks. You and Grace will start talking and your secrets are coming out. I want to meet Mystery Man.” She is jovial, but I have to catch my words again before they flood out. She is going to have a heart attack when she realizes the man who currently lives in my head rent free is the same boy that she used to hand the container of sweets to at the front door when she’d drop me off at Addison’s house for sleepovers in elementary school.

My stomach is suddenly twisting with nerves.

“I better let you go. Focus on the road. I’ll call you next week.”

“Love you, sweetie. Smile big!” Her typical motto that she’s given Grace and me forever has me rolling my eyes again and chuckling.

“Love you, too, Mom.”

23A Sluts

I giggle to myself at the texts with the girls, and I assure Rosie that we’ll have a girls’ dinner tomorrow night when she is home. It’ll be a Friday, and I finally have a day off on Saturday and can indulge in some wine and sleep in.

But it means tonight, I’m home alone. And I really don’t want to be.

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