Page 47 of Mr. Edwards
I stand there seething until she gets herself under control. “When did you get a backbone?”
“Leave me alone,” I say, turning and heading toward my bedroom.
“Hold on.” I glance over my shoulder briefly, but I don’t stop walking. “Where did you get those clothes from?” Advancing toward me, she reaches out, fisting my new shirt in her hands and tugging me backward. I stumble. “Did you steal them?” The humor she just showed is gone. Her glassy eyes are now narrowed into slits.
“No, I didn’t steal them.”
“Well, where the fuck did you get them then?”
“None of your business,” I say, spinning around to face her.
“Have you been whoring yourself around? Is that how you got them?”
Her words stun me.What the hell. “No, Mom!” She hates it when I call her that, she says it makes her feel old. “One whore in the family is enough.”
“You little bitch,” she yells, yanking me forward by the neck of my T-shirt. When I hear a tear, I want to lash out at her, but I don’t get a chance. Instead, I’m forced to bring my hands up to cover my face as she starts laying into me… blow after blow.
It’s a fitting end to the most fucked-up day ever!
Chapter 11
Carlee
“Hottie alert at twelve o’clock,” Mandy, my coworker, says as she passes behind me with a tray full of clean glasses in her arms.
Lifting my eyes, I glance toward the entry of the bar. The moment my gaze locks onto the said hottie, my stomach flips.Grayson.What’s he doing here, and how did he find out where I work? I mean I don’t really care, it’s not like it’s a secret. I’m just surprised. It’s been four days since I last saw him because I’ve worked every night this week. We’ve messaged though.
I’m trying hard not to get attached, but he’s making it difficult. Good looks aside, he’s a sweet guy. Yesterday he even had a bouquet of Hershey’s Kisses delivered to my apartment. Each one was individually wrapped in red foil, which made them look like roses. Nobody has ever sent me flowers before, well technically they were chocolates, which is even better in my eyes. He has this wooing thing down pat.
I’ve missed him, but the break has done me good. I needed some space to collect myself after my revelation about my past. I’m not even sure why I opened up to himabout my mom. He’s the first person I’ve ever been so upfront with. I usually skirt around the gory details, nobody wants to hear that stuff, but for some reason, the words just tumbled out of me. The next thing I knew I was holding out my arm, like some attention-seeking wannabe, offering up more of my secrets.
When he turned his back, I held my breath. I was sure he was going to run. But when he turned around and folded me in his arms, promising to keep me safe, I think I fell a tiny bit in love with him. It was in no way the reaction I’d expected.
“Sunshine,” he says, smiling as he struts toward the bar. This man has swagger in spades.
He comes to a stop in front of me and just stares for a moment. I use this time to do the same. It’s only been a few days, but I swear he’s gotten even sexier. There’s a sparkle in his eyes like he’s genuinely happy to see me. I’m not used to people looking at me like that and it’s strangely affecting.
Is it a look he reserves just for me, or part of his overall charm? Either way, it makes me all swoony.
“Hey, handsome,” I reply, returning his smile. What I want to do is leap across the bar and climb him like a tree, but thankfully I manage to rein in my crazy. “What brings you here?”
He is here to see me, right?
I have a mini panic attack when that thought enters my mind, but then he answers, “I’ve been missing my favorite girl,” and a calmness settles over me.
The butterflies in my stomach take flight, but hopefully, on the outside, I manage to keep my cool. I’m not a gushy kind of girl, but this man makes me feel things the others before him didn’t. I wonder how manygirlshe has. It’s not like we’re exclusive or anything, but the thought ofhim lavishing his attention on someone else doesn’t sit well with me at all. I push those thoughts aside. I’m the one that wanted no strings, so I have no right to expect anything more from him.
“Can I get you something to drink, or did you just drop in to say hello?”
“What time do you get off?”
“Not until two, I’m afraid. I’m on close tonight.”
“Ah, okay. Would you mind if I hung around for a bit then?”
“Not at all.” There are a couple of people waiting to be served, and as much as I’d like to spend the rest of my shift entertaining him, I can’t. “What can I get you?”
“A kiss wouldn’t go astray,” he says, eyeing my mouth, “but if that’s off the table then a beer would be great.”
