“We would still see each other. You’ll be playing here every Friday night.”
“I promise things won’t be awkward.”
“You shouldn’t make promises you can’t guarantee you can keep.”
“I have remained on good terms with my exes.” He shrugs while his thumb rubs circles on the back of my hand. “This is all hypothetical anyway.” His eyes twinkle with the weight of what he thinks he knows. “Just one date, Stevie. That’s all I’m asking. It’s not really that big of a deal.”
Maybe not to him. Mention of ex-girlfriends suggests Garrick likes being in a relationship, and all it does is prove how incompatible we are. “You’re wasting your time, Garrick. I don’t date.”
“It’s Gar, and why not?”
“I don’t have the time for distractions, and I really need to get back to the bar before Manford sends out a search party.”
“What if I’m the best kind of distraction?” he asks, finally releasing my hand.
“You probably are, but I’m not changing my mind.” Standing, I straighten a hand down the front of my tight-fitting black T-shirt. It’s adorned with the bar logo on the front and my name on the back. All the staff have to wear them, but we can choose to pair it with whatever we like. I usually wear skinny jeans and black tennis shoes because I value comfort over sexiness any day of the week.
“Help a guy out here, Stevie.” Rising to his feet, he stands in front of me, pinning me with puppy-dog eyes. “Just one dinner. That’s all I’m asking. How distracting could that be?”
Tipping my head back, I peer up at him. I admire his persistence. But it won’t alter my decision. “I have a feeling you could be the most distracting distraction of all.”
“Just give me a chance.”
I shake my head and take a few steps back. “There are tons of girls out there tonight who would love to go out to dinner with you. Ask one of them.”
“I don’t want to take any of them to dinner. I want to take you.”
“We can’t always get what we want.” Stretching up on tiptoes, I press a soft kiss to his cheek, unable to resist a sly sniff of his intoxicating smell. “It was good to meet you, Garrick, and I’m flattered you asked me out, but it’s not happening.”
“We’ll see,” he shouts after me as I make my way toward the door. “I’m not the kind of guy who backs down at the first hurdle.”
ChapterTwo
Stevie
“Fuck off,” I grumble, shoving my head under my pillow and ignoring the incessant vibration of my cell phone as it buzzes on top of my bedside table. It was just after four a.m. when I crawled into bed, and I have not had enough sleep. My cell continues to vibrate, and I spew a ton of expletives as I lift my head from under the pillow and reach for it. Whoever is calling is clearly determined, so I might as well face the music. I swipe to answer the call, squinting at the screen through blurry eyes. “This better be important,” I mumble over a yawn as I haul my tired body up against the headboard and brush knotty hair out of my face.
“I’m sorry to wake you, sweetie,” Mom says, and I instantly regret my snippy tone. “I just didn’t know if I’d get a chance to call you again today. It’s bedlam here.”
Mom works Monday to Friday as the office manager for a Seattle architectural firm, and for the past few years, she has worked at Sand Point Country Club on alternate weekends as front desk manager of the restaurant. She only took on the second job to subsidize my college fund, and she refuses to quit until I have graduated.
I was lucky to receive one of a limited number of scholarships. It covers my tuition and books but not accommodations or food. I wanted to take out student loans, but Mom wouldn’t hear of it. She doesn’t want me saddled with huge debt coming out of college.
“Sokay, Mom. I just got in extra late last night, and you know what a grouch I am if I don’t get enough sleep.” I scrub at my heavy eyes, forcing them to open. My bedroom is pitch-black, thanks to the best blackout blinds money can buy.
Outside, car horns blare, thumping music pumps out through open windows, dogs bark, playful children laugh, and other sounds of normal Saturday morning activity ensure I won’t be able to fall back asleep after this call.
Mom’s tinkling laughter hits my ears. “You always loved your sleep. Even as a toddler, I often had to coax you out of your crib.” More laughter trickles through the connection. “Can you believe I actually used to wake you if you slept too long? Until Mom discovered what I was doing and made me stop.”
“You were doing your best,” I remind her, my heart swelling with unconditional love for the woman who gave up all of her dreams for me.
“I tried, and look how amazing you are.” Pride suffuses her tone, and warmth spreads across my chest. “Though I can’t claim much credit. It’s all on you. Being your mother is such a pleasure. You make it so easy.”
I adore my mother, and we have a fantastic relationship. She was the only parent I had growing up. I’m super close to my nana too, but Mom was the one I lived with.
She was only twenty when she got pregnant. Basically, the same age I am now, and I don’t know how she did it. The thought of being responsible for a tiny human terrifies me. I can only imagine how difficult it was for her. But she never complains or ever makes me feel like I ruined her life. She continues to put me first and make sacrifices for me, and I have never felt anything but loved and cherished. While I went through phases wishing I had a dad, I never felt his loss for more than fleeting moments in time because Mom was everything.
“It’s entirely too early for mushy compliments, Mom, even if it’s true.” I’m smiling as the words leave my mouth, and my heart is full of love for my mother. “I won the mother lottery for sure.”
