“I’m not sleeping, thanks to you.” It wasn’t like the guilt trip would work, but she couldn’t stop herself. Her mom sounded high or drunk, possibly both. “And please don’t call me that; it’s culturally insensitive. My name is Rosie.”
Her mom snorted. “All that college time has killed your sense of humor. I know what your name is—I chose it for ya. Took me a long time to decide on it too.”
That wasn’t true at all, but she didn’t have the energy to argue. She wanted to end the conversation, sleep, and have sweet, sweet dreams about the sex she’d just enjoyed. “What do you want, Mom? It’s four a.m., and I’m tired.” And Thanksgiving, the next time she’d be forced to spend time with her mom in yet another “new” cruddy apartment or trailer, was three months away, so what the hell was this call about?
“I just wanted to let you know I’m going on a little trip.”
“And you couldn’t text me the details? Or call in the morning?” Her irritation outweighed the need for patience, and she was so sick of her mom’s never-ending drama.
“I was going to call tomorrow, but Keith wants to get an early start, and I don’t know if my phone’ll work on the road.”
“You’re not going to the moon, Mom.”
“No, I’m going to Mexico.”
Rosie screwed her eyes shut and pinched the bridge of her nose. Even the afterglow of phenomenal sex wasn’t strong enough to temper the hysteria of her mom’s theatrics. “They have cell towers in Mexico, Mom.”
“Aren’t you going to ask why I’m going to Mexico?”
I don’t want to know. “That’s your business, Mom.” And she was sure her mom’s reasons would be completely logical and not at allknee-jerk reactionary to whatever situation she’d gotten herself into. And it was probably all Keith’s idea, whoever the hell Keith was.
“I need special medication, and it’s cheaper over the border. I’ll be back in a week.”
Rosie shook her head. “Unless you’re arrested for smuggling.”
“We’ll be fine. Keith does this a lot.”
Of course he does.“Then why does he need you?” Damn it. Her mom had hooked her in.
“He doesn’t need me. I need the meds in my system urgently.”
That sent a shiver through her body, and Rosie pulled the comforter up to her neck. Surely her mom was just being her usual melodramatic self, and there was nothing serious going on. “What’s wrong, Mom?”
“Chronic kidney failure. I need?—”
“Come on, Bren. I’m not waiting no more,” a man shouted in the background.
“I’ve got to go, Rosarita. Love ya. I’ll call you when I get back.”
“Wait! I don’t have—” But she’d already gone. “I don’t have your new address.” She flicked to received calls and tried her mom, but it went to a recorded message. She tried four more times with the same result. This was her usual behavior: drop a bomb and cut all communication so that Rosie stewed in the uncertainty of limited knowledge.
So, it was researching kidney disease and no sleep then. She rose from her bed and headed to the kitchen to brew some coffee. Lori’s birthday party was tonight, and she didn’t want to be a zombie for it, so she’d just have to load up on caffeine. She was looking forward to the evening and the feeling of it being a date with Shay without the associated pressure. And she’d enjoy spending Lori’s birthday with her, of course.
Shay’s scent was still strong in the hallway, and she smiled at the memory of the last few hours. Her smile grew wider at the thought of more to come. But she had to park that pleasure for now while she tried to figure out what the hell was going on with her mom. Again.
CHAPTER 5
Shay poured moreof the super strong, leaded coffee into Gabe’s cup, and sat back down beside her. She’d found Gabe hunched over the kitchen table with her head in her hands three hours ago, and she’d barely moved since, except to empty mug after mug of the black stuff. At eleven a.m., that was preferable to the double-digit shots they’d downed after they’d gotten back from Lori’s disastrous birthday dinner. Shay had a high alcohol tolerance, but even she was feeling the after-effects of the full bottle of Jose Cuervo they’d finished at five a.m. When she’d managed to put Gabe to bed shortly after, Shay had thought she’d be unconscious until noon at least, but the rattling cups and coffee pot bubbling had started just a few hours later.
If this was love, it was another good reason for her to stay clear of it. And she had to concede that if Lori didn’t forgive Gabe for not being fully truthful about her past, Shay’s newly found situationship with Rosie would probably be over too. It was selfish to be thinking about that right now, but she’d run out of platitudes and promising prophesies for Gabe and Lori’s future two or three cups ago, and the tension from last night’s confrontation had initiated an itch that only one thing could scratch.
Which was why she was thinking about Rosie…and all the positions they’d gotten into on Thursday night. There’d been no awkwardness about any of it until Rosie had asked if she’d gotten what she needed. No one had ever asked her that question before and given that she was essentially using Rosie’s body to work out all the residual conflict from contact with her father, it wasn’t a question she wanted to answer. She didn’twantto use Rosie thatway. She was going to be different from all the transient trysts of Shay’s past because they had an explicit understanding of what they were going to be together. Casual. No strings. No messy emotions. It was going to be perfect.
Or at least it had promised to be. Until Solo had opened her big mouth last night and revealed the elements of Gabe’s past she’d been keeping from Lori, Shay and Rosie had been heading to night number three, and Shay had been looking forward to laying back on Rosie’s bed and letting her loose with her body. Rosie had hinted at restraints, which had been something Shay always wanted to try but hadn’t been able to give that kind of control over to any of the women she’d had short encounters with. Maybe now she could build that kind of trust with Rosie.
“No improvement?”
Shay looked up at Woody’s question and shook her head. “Not cured by coffee, tequila, or sleep.” She nodded toward the counter when Woody sniffed the air. “I just brewed a fresh pot. Have at it.”
