He might hate it.
I didn’t care.
Somethingof that man’s should do some good.
And I’d just decided how it would.
I didn’t tell Hutch, though.
I said, “You just learned you might be sitting on a goldmine.Can I suggest you don’t make any hasty decisions?”
“I never make hasty decisions.”
I didn’t doubt it.
“Except the one I made when you were asking me to fuck you.”He shot me a shit-eating grin.“But I seriously don’t regret that one.”
Ugh.
And…
Yum.
Simply to keep up appearance, I slapped his arm.
Then I leaned over to kiss his jaw.
“Mm,” he hummed in a way that made me suddenly want to get home, and fast.
We got home, just not fast, though we did it safe.
And after some fur baby greeting, puppy checking, and a bathroom break for all of them, as anticipated, Hutch delivered on the promise of that hum.
TWENTY-SIX
Ivy League of the Midwest
Mabel
Sunday afternoon, the rain was steadily coming down, the day was gray and misty, and I was in the best place anyone could be on such a day (or maybe on any day).
Propped up again on Hutch’s naked chest (I was naked too), baring the last of my soul.
That being what I considered the worst of my tales of woe.
My mom accidentally killing someone.
Over the years, to the people I trusted with this information, the reactions varied widely.
Some thought it was what I thought it was: my mother escaping a messed-up home (yes, the kind that created a chip off the old block in my uncle), doing it too young to have formed her own personality or moral compass.As such, she never really grew up or understood responsibility, and by the time it was necessary to do so, she was hopelessly lost.
Others looked at me funny, even if I had nothing to do with it, and not only didn’t condone my mother’s choice of occupation, but hated it, and found ways to escape too (mostly through schoolwork, school clubs and activities, volunteering, and a hot and heavy relationship with my boyfriend whose family semi-adopted me).
So I was worried what Hutch’s take would be.
“You got a relationship with her?”he asked, not even a flicker of distaste moving through his brown eyes, his fingers linked in mine, and he was absently playing with them in a sweet way.
“She tried to reunite after she got out of prison the second time.I told her that I appreciated her attempts, but I’d rather we didn’t go back to an unhealthy place, that being, me having anything to do with her.”
