“I know, but I’m good. No offense, pet, but if I didn’t want you to, you wouldn’t even see me coming.” He tugs his pants on next. “Bring your guitar, or whatever else valuable you have. If she sells your shit, I won’t be happy.”
Yeah, well, that makes two of us.
I get out of bed and get dressed. Rory follows me to the bathroom, taking a piss while I brush my teeth. It feels like something couples do, and when I’m done and go to take a piss, he surprises me by picking up my toothbrush and using it.
“That’s gross.”
“You’ve had your tongue in my mouth and on my cock. It’s going to be in my asshole. I can use your toothbrush.”
He has a point.
We head back to my room, and I pack a few days’ worth of clothes, my toiletries, and grab my guitar. It’s already noon, Rory and I having slept in after being up so late last night. “Are we taking my car?”
“Do you want to leave it here for your mom?”
I hesitate. Giving her transportation isn’t smart, but I don’t want her stuck here for days either. “Yeah.”
“Bunny only had morning classes today. I’ll have him come and get us. My car is at home.”
He calls Ollie, and then we wait in the living room. The room is full of smoke, Mom with a cigarette in her hand, sitting in the corner of the couch.
“Are you really leaving me?” she asks, her eyes glassy.
My heart squeezes. “Not forever. Jesus, Mom. You’re the one who said I need friends. I’m trying to have friends.”
Rory’s leaning against the wall, watching us, arms crossed. I try to ignore him as I sit beside her, run my fingers through her hair, then cup her cheek. “I’ll never leave you. It’s you and me, remember?” It always has been and always will be.
I know her behavior and our relationship isn’t normal, but it’s all I know. It’s all she does too. Imagine growing up with addicted parents, being on your own since fourteen and pregnant at fifteen. She hasn’t had it easy.
Mom sniffles and nods. “Okay. Sorry.”
I hug her. “It’s fine.” I hate that I almost tell Rory I can’t go, that the guilt is mounting inside me over the fact that I’m leaving. I’m twenty-two years old. She can’t be my whole fucking life.
“Ollie is here,” Rory says. I get off the couch and pull my bag over my shoulder. Rory grabs my guitar. “Thank you, Kat. I want him, but I won’t take him away from you.”
It’s one thing to hear Rory sayI want youwhen he’s speaking to me but something else entirely to hear him tell my mom that. Who does that anyway? Who saysI want himto someone’s parent? But it’s not even one of the most outrageous things Rory has said, and I like it…being wanted by him.
She nods, and as Rory walks out, I tell her I’m leaving the car keys for her. “Don’t do anything to get us in trouble…please.”
“I won’t. I’m not a child.”
No, she’s not, but she often acts like it.
I head out after Rory and see a BMW in the driveway. Rory puts my guitar in the trunk, then opens the back door. I frown as he signals for me to get in.
“Are you opening the door for me?”
“Do your eyes suddenly not work? Get in the fucking car, Shai. I’m annoyed.”
Not at me, though. I know exactly whom he’s pissed at.
I climb in, and he closes the door before getting into the front seat. Ollie looks back and forth between us, his gaze eventually landing on Rory. “I thought I was just pickingyouup.” He throws me an apologetic look.
I shrug because I get it.
“You said you wanted to invite him over,” Rory grumbles.
“Yeah, but…does Tiernan know?”
