I flopped onto my bed and stared at my phone, telepathically willing Cash to send me some kind of text that let me know he was okay.
My mother knocked on my door about thirty minutes into my self-induced exile.
“Can I come in?”
“Oh, sure,” I droned from my place on the floor, back against my bed. “Welcome to the crazy train,” I said.
“Toot toot,” she said sitting beside me, and settling one ankle over the other. “You didn’t want dessert?”
“I’m fine.”
“Baby, it’s chocolate lava cakewithvanilla bean ice-cream.”
My mouth watered. “I’m good.”
“And homemade whipped cream.”
I shrugged. “I don’t need the calories.”
“Okay, now Iknowyou’re hiding.”
I stared at the floor. “What do you mean?”
She wrapped an arm around my shoulders. “Oh, my sweet, sweet, beautiful girl. You have always had theworstpoker face.”
I decided it would probably behoove me to shut my mouth at this juncture because she was right about my inability to keep my thoughts from my face, but I was also smart enough not to give up information too soon.
“Hmm, no questions?” Mom mused. “So unlike you.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Would you like me to tell you what I know?”
“Feel free,” I muttered.
“Once upon a time, there was the prettiest little girl in the world, and she fell in love with a grumpy biker who just happened to be her best friend’s big brother.”
I bristled under her touch, but still said nothing.
“Oh, she was good at acting like she hated him, gave this grumpy man as good as she got, but ultimately she brought him to his knees, and he fell head over heels in love with her as well.”
“Cool story, bro.”
“And the way he looked at my little girl when he thought no one else was looking.” She gave me a gentle squeeze. “Well, that was a wonder. Something that makes a mama’s heart skip a beat.”
I lost my battle with my emotions then, bursting into tears and folding myself into my mother’s welcoming arms. She heldme as I sobbed into her shoulder, all of my worries soaking her shirt. The thing about a mother’s love, though, is in its magic and I found it to be the soothing balm I needed.
Until I came to my senses, that is. “Shit,” I hissed.
“What, baby?”
“Does Dad know?”
She chuckled. “I haven’t talked to him about it, so I don’t know what he knows or suspects.”
“Is he going to kill him when he finds out?” I rasped.
“No.”
