I went back inside prepared to nuke some popcorn and find something to watch on Netflix when my phone rang. As if life hadn’t screwed with me enough already that evening, I saw that my mother was calling.
There was no sense in ignoring her call because she’d just call back. “Hello, Mama.”
“You could’ve been killed!”
“Mama, I—”
“Don’t you ‘mama’ me, young lady. I’m coming over there.”
“Why? I’m okay. I didn’t see anything.” I’d already had this conversation with Milo and Memphis, who had both insisted they come over to my house. Memphis did it out of concern for me while Milo was only being nosy about the conversation I had with the oh-so-very-fucking-good-looking detective after he and Memphis left.
“You’re my baby girl and you could’ve been killed tonight.”
“Mama, that’s an awful big leap. Why aren’t you coddling Milo?”
“Who the hell said I wasn’t? Where do you think I’ve been the last thirty minutes?” An image of Mom peppering Milo’s face with kisses as she fussed over him made me smile. Not because Milo needed it, but because he was as independent as I was. I knew he hadn’t called Mom, which meant she found out the old-fashioned way—word of mouth. Someone had burned up my mom’s phone as soon as the cops showed up. I was adamant that I wanted to be alone, but then my mom brought out her big guns. “I baked brownies today.”
“You and your brownies get on over here.”
It was good to be loved. Of course, I like my prior plans of loving better. Well, sexing at least.
