And give her a treat because who am I kidding? I’m as much her bitch as that damn rock.
I’ve only got her half-wiped down before someone starts banging on my door, making me wince as one hand flies to my temple.
“Fuck me.” Each hit resonates inside my skull, as I skid to the entryway on my still-wet feet.
The number of people who would be here is limited, so I’m not worried about my current state as I fling open the door, primarily focused on making sure they don’t fucking knock again.
I stare out at my mother, dumbfounded because she looks even worse than I do. “What the hell happened to you?”
My mother is always perfectly put together. Her hair, her clothes, her makeup. Even her muck boots are always pristine. She’s built an empire on making perfection look easy and attainable.
If only her adoring fans could see her now. Mud is splattered on her face. Her blonde hair is stringy and wet from the rain. And the normally sparkling smile she sports nearly twenty-four-seven has been replaced by a deep frown.
Or maybe that’s a scowl.
“What the hell happened tome?” She waves both hands in my general direction. “What the hell happened toyou?”
That is a long fucking story. One she knows well, and I don’t really feel like rehashing it right now.
So I decide to keep my answer pretty general. “I was up late last night installing a new type of bulletproof windshield in one ofour test cars.” It didn’t technically need to be done last night, but what the fuck else do I have to do? Sit around my house like a fucking lump?
No fucking thanks. My liver’s barely hanging on as it is. Any more time staring at the walls would likely do it in.
My mother’s brows slowly climb her forehead as she stares at me like I’ve just said the dumbest thing she’s ever heard.
“What?” I don’t know why she’s shocked. All I do is work. Hearing I worked late last night shouldn’t come as a surprise.
But it clearly is, because the shocked expression on my mother’s face only gets worse. “Do you not remember what today is?”
It takes my brain a second to catch up. A second for everything to fall in line.
“Oh shit.” If this was a normal day, I would have been at work right now. Maybe wouldn’t have had as much to drink last night.
Possibly.
“Yeah,oh shit.” My mother shakes her head, like I’m the biggest disappointment in her life, which might actually be the case. “You were supposed to be at my house over an hour ago, and instead you’re here.” She waves one gloved hand at my underwear clad form. “Doing God only knows what.” Her eyes narrow. “Or God only knowswho.”
That’s a little offensive. I’m not chasing down every piece of ass I can get like Tucker. I’m not interested in just any piece of ass and she knows that. Possibly better than anyone.
“I was fucking sleeping.” I rake a hand through my overgrown hair as I turn away. “I had a rough night.”
“And it’s your own fault.” My mother follows me into the house, not even bothering to take off her muddy boots—a pretty good indication of how pissed she is at me. “You had a rough night because you drank too much and now you’re hung over.” When I stop and face her, she looks me over, nose wrinkling. “I can still smell it on you.”
I vaguely remember missing my mouth at one point last night, and bring a hand up to rub across the patch of my chest that caught the spill. My skin is sticky and the hair growing out of it is a little stiffer than normal. So I’d say it’s highly likely I do smell exactly like whiskey.
And guilt. Not sure which one stinks worse.
“I’ll take a shower and get ready.” I feel bad. I love my mom. She busted her ass to build a great life for all of us. Showed me how important it is to work hard. What it’s like to be loved unconditionally.
She would do anything for me and my brothers.
And I made her think I can’t even fucking wake up before one in the afternoon on Thanksgiving Day for her.
Guess I’m an even bigger piece of shit than I realized.
“It’s too late now. That ship has sailed.” My mom props both hands on her hips as she focuses on me in a weirdly intense way. “But you should still take a shower. It’s time to start getting your shit together.”
I huff out a bitter laugh. “Yeah. I’ll get right on that.”
