Page 44 of Contingently Yours
Pinching my eyes shut, I stifle a groan and run my hand down my face. I am in no mood if she’s gearing up on one of her tangents where she claims Dad doesn’t love her.
“Mom…he dotes on you. You’ve got him so wrapped around your finger that he wouldn’t take a shit unless you said it was okay.”
“Vulgar,” she warns, but then her tone turns more subdued. “And I don’t know about that.”
Sighing, I let my forehead thump against the drywall over the towel rod. “Is this why you called?”
“No. We’re getting off track.”
I’ll say. No shit, Loretta. Was there even a track when we started?
“We’re having a party for the Fourth of July on Saturday the fifth.”
“So, you mean you’re having a fifth of July party?”
“Hardy-har-har. Yes. Whatever. Will you be home from…wherever?”
She knows damn well where I am. The woman has a memory like a steel trap. “Yes,” I grumble before I can think better of it, so I add, “Maybe.”
“Good,” she clips, seeing right through me. “It’s been a while since you’ve come to visit. Your father and Chad will be happy to see you.”
My eyes are going to be damaged by how many times I’ve rolled them during this conversation. “Yeah. I bet.”
“You can invite Shaw and Terry if you like,” she says off-handedly. “I haven’t seen them since Easter.”
I will never understand why Lou’s kid is welcome, but he isn’t. “Yeah. Sure. The fourth on the fifth.”
“Noon. Don’t be late.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
She hangs up, and as I stare at the phone, I want to know why it’s the first time I’m pondering why we never say ‘I love you’ back and forth the way Lucas does so freely each time he talks to the babies. Does that make my family dysfunctional or his?
Turning off the light, I decide it’s not worth burning the brain cells over and step into the room. I stop the second I do, seeing a lump in the bed. A very large, Lucas-shaped lump.
How long ago did he get here? I didn’t even hear him come in. And is that…a fucking pillow shoved behind his ass underneath the covers?
Snorting, I shake my head at his fuckery. There is no way he’s worried about me reaching over in the morning. Someone’s pouting already because I didn’t tell him he was the best double jerk session I’ve ever had, no matter that he was the only one. He’s making me as needy as him because I have to step on the lightness that brings to my chest like squashing a bug. He was just drunk from coming. I’m not special. The idiot. He’s too old to have a crush. I bet he drove around Podunk in his pickup for months, blaring ‘Friends In Low Places’ after his woman ditched him.
I toss my toiletry bag next to my suitcase, telling myself he did me a favor with his chastity pillow. I honestly have no ideahow to extricate myself from…whatever the hell is happening between us, short of turning down the boyfriend signals around the Hepperlys tonight.
The closer I pad to the bed, the angrier I get watching his still frame and that fucking bulge from his extra pillow. Fucking Lucas. We’ve still got almost two weeks left with the Hepperlys. I can’t afford for him to piss me off, along with his pouting. Every time he aggravates me, I end up putting my hands or mouth on him.
Damn it. I need some advice.
Huffing, I head out into the hallway with my phone and keep going until I reach the patio door. The night air has a chill in the breeze, but I’ll take all the cooling off I can.
I hit the video icon on my favorites, and after three rings, Terry’s face appears with the backdrop of their kitchen in view. “Where’s Shaw?” I ask, not wasting any time.
“Hello to you, too.”
“It’s important. I need some advice.”
His sourpuss brightens, his face lighting up. “Ooh, about the ‘boyfriend situation?’”
“No, about the mouth fungus you gave me.”
His head twists around, straining the cords in his neck. “Shaw! Your dickhead cousin’s on the phone. Want me to hang up?” he yells at the top of his lungs.
