Page 114 of The Naughty List

I roll my eyes. “I don’t know about that now,” I say, thinking back to Gillian kissing him on the porch.

“Why? Because of that girl?” she asks.

“You saw that?”

“Of course. Why do you think I took so long to find my keys? I wanted to see what was going to happen.”

I laugh. “Oh my God, Mom.”

“What?” she asks, shrugging her shoulders. “He’s a good boy. He will do the right thing. Just don’t give up on him yet.”

“You think so? Even after seeing their kiss?”

“Oh, honey. It was clear he didn’t want that kiss. Don’t hold that against him. He’s just too nice to pimp slap that ho across the face for trying something like that.”

I bust out laughing. “Oh my God, Mom. You seriously need to stop watching Comedy Central.”

She giggles. “Why, I like it and it makes me cool with the kids.”

“What kids?” I question.

“The ones that come into the store. I have a group that come in to see me every day, just to talk and listen to the wackadoodle things I’ll say.”

I shake my head. “God, shoot me now.”

“Now, forget all your troubles and let’s go get some shopping done, huh?”

Shopping is a nice distraction, but it’s not enough. Every time I let my guard down, I find myself thinking of Carson and Big Boobs. It’s killing me that she’s there and I hate that I can’t let it go. Carson isn’t mine. Sure, we’ve been hooking up, but that doesn’t mean he’s mine. In fact, I think we both agreed on one night, well, two now.

I thought being with Carson would be magical, amazing, life-changing, but I couldn’t wrap my head around how much it would change me. I thought it was only going to be one time. I thought that things couldn’t get complicated if it only happened once. But it was so good that I needed more than once. And he hasn’t been able to keep his hands to himself since. So, what made it so good?

Was it because we both wanted it so badly? Was it because we’d been waiting so long, always denying ourselves? Or is it something else? I try to think back on every other sexual experience I’ve had and none of them can even compare. Even the experiences that I thought were good at the time can’t hold a thing on Carson. What is different about Carson and every other man I’ve been with? I’ve known him longer. There is a friendship there. And I guess I love him. I’ve always loved him. He’s my best friend. But do I love love him?

Mom and I spend the day going in and out of the little shops on the square, and then she takes me out to dinner at the little Chinese restaurant on the corner. We both load our plates with General Tso’s chicken and fried rice. Then Mom insists on washing it all down by sharing a pitcher of beer.

“When did you become such a drinker?” I ask, just giving her shit as I pop a piece of chicken into my mouth.

She rolls her eyes. “You’re making me sound like I have an addiction.”

I shrug. “It was just a question.”

“It’s not all for us. I invited someone else too.”

My brows pull together. “Who’d you invite?”

“Mind if I sit down?” he asks, standing next to the table. I look and find Carson.

“Of course, dear,” Mom says.

Carson sits next to me and we look at one another. I can see in his eyes how badly he wants to explain, but not in front of my mom.

“Go on and fix you a plate,” she urges.

He lets out a little chuckle, but he stands up and shrugs out of his coat before walking over to the buffet.

“Mom, why’d you invite him?” I whisper so he won’t be able to hear me.

“Whatever happened today needs to be talked about. Don’t worry, I don’t expect you to talk in front of me, but I knew that if I didn’t invite him, you’d avoid him and think the worst.” She smiles. “Now you can’t avoid him.”

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