“Yes. Please.”And hurry the hell up with it.
“What do I get if I hide?” he asked.
“Whatever you want,” I told him, gaze darting to the hallway as the doorbell rang again.
He took a deep breath and released it slowly. “Okay. I’ll do it this time and this time only,” he told me.
I only needed him to do it once. There wouldn’t be another time.
“Thank you. Come on.” I grabbed his hand, but he pulled it back.
“Go get dressed. I’m following behind you.”
“O-okay.” I rose and ran to the bedroom, looking over my shoulder only once to see if he was following.
I found him sipping from his mug, his jaw set, body tense. I knew this was an awkward situation. And I was probably acting like a fool. But my daughter had never caught me with a guy before. I couldn’t have that happen now.
The doorbell rang again. If I didn’t answer soon, she’d start calling my name. Then, the neighbors would come out to see what the commotion was. And Julian would be forced to do a walk of shame.
Ugh!I didn’t have time for any of that. In the bedroom, I found a pair of leggings and a T-shirt in my luggage. I slid the robe off and pulled the shirt on. I was just about to grab my leggings when my phone rang.
It had to be India. I rushed over to the phone.No. It was Ronnie. I snatched the phone from the nightstand and answered.
“Hello,” I whispered loudly.
“Bitch, your daughter is texting my phone asking if I’m at the Airbnb with you and asking if that’s my car outside. That’s that young stud’s car out there, isn’t it?”
Ignoring his question, I asked, “Did you respond to her?”
“Of course not. She’s my mini-bestie, but you’re my grown bestie, so I called you to see how you want to handle this.”
“Thank you, Ronnie.” I sighed, massaging my forehead.
“Don’t thank me with words. I want tea. Not the kind you drink. The kind you speak. That can wait, though. Your daughter is at your front door, and she’s not alone.”
“She’s not alone?”
“Nope. Her friends are with her. She’s there for free breakfast.”
“She said all of that in a text?”
“Oh, no. When she called you and you didn’t answer, she called me and left a voicemail, and then she texted me.”
I pulled the phone away from my ear and checked my missed calls. While I’d been in the kitchen flirting with Julian, my daughter had called me three times. I’d never felt this type of guilt before. What if it had been something important? What if she’d been in danger?
“Shedidcall me,” I muttered. “I didn’t even hear the phone ring. I was... busy.” More guilt washed over me.
“As you should be,” Ronnie told me. “She ditched you for her friends. You ditched her for dick. You’re even now.”
“That’s not how motherhood works.”
“Which is why it’s a good thing I can’t be a mother because I always have to get my lick back.”
“Focus, Ronnie.”
“I am focused. I know you, and you’re probably feeling guilty.”
“Hell yeah, I am. She could’ve been in danger while I was playing Stella and getting my groove back.”