"And you volunteered to cover for her the whole time, right?" I guess, because it's exactly the kind of person my mom is. The first to help, no matter the situation, even if it hurts her.
"Yes, because it didn't cost me anything, sweetie. And it's only for a short time. After that I swear I'll go back to slowing down," she assures me, and I sigh, knowing there's no point in arguing. Being a doctor, and especially a general surgeon, is my mom's calling.
She loves what she does, and I think she's incredible, but she's already fifty-five and had a heart attack last year. That terrified me and I begged her to slow her pace. Working at the office from nine to five and still doing a few elective surgeries would be ideal. However, even though she promised me and even tried pretty hard at the start, Dr. Anne has been running from the calm a lot.
Every now and then she decides to cover for someone at the hospital, or work in the ER, because "they were slammed, it didn't cost anything to lend a hand." We've fought about this several times and I'm almost coming to terms with the fact thatshe's a grown woman and makes her own decisions, but it's really hard.
Tonight I don't want that headache, so I let it go.
"Okay, but see that you take care of yourself, all right?" I ask, and she nods in agreement, but then makes a face.
"When did the roles reverse? That's my line!" she accuses jokingly, and I laugh.
"People did warn me that in time I'd become my own mom's mom, but I didn't think it would be this soon, you know?" I tease, and she gasps, in a mix of feeling offended and finding it funny.
We talk for a few more minutes, with her telling me some gossip about my aunts, uncles, and cousins, and also asking if I already "had my eye on another guy," to which I rolled my eyes and said no. Moms definitely don't need to find out about no-strings sex arrangements with hot guys.
Before saying goodbye, I make her promise to really relax on her days off, and she makes me swear to call more often. When I turn off the phone screen and stare at my own reflection, I feel a little ache of longing in my heart. My mom is everything to me. She's my example of a strong, determined woman, who raised me alone after my dad died, seventeen years ago.
When the whole thing with Johnny blew up, all I wanted was her arms around me. I remember calling her crying so hard that I almost made her get in the car and actually come here to pick me up. Only Maddie managed to keep her home, promisingshe'd take care of me. And I really did need several days in my cousin's arms.
But now that was a thing of the past and I didn't have the time or the desire anymore to keep thinking about a broken heart. I promised myself I'd never fall in love and go through a situation like that again.
And because I need to distract myself, I decide to rewatch an episode of my comfort show: Criminal Minds.
As Derek Morgan and Spencer Reid, my biggest crushes on the show, hunt for serial killers, I finally give in to the realm of dreams.
Chapter 14
Logan
I had heard Ethan and Charlie having sex.
Fuck.
Two days had gone by, during which I avoided my friend every way possible, and I still hadn't managed to forget.
And catching them wasn't even on purpose. I went back to the study room to grab my jacket, forgotten on the chair, and I'd already turned to leave when I heard a quiet moan, followed by a louder one and then a plea for quiet. My eyes went wide and I moved closer to where the sound seemed to be coming from: the door to my left.
I pressed my ear to the wood and the moans became a lot clearer, which made it very obvious who was in there and what they were doing. I don't know how long I stood frozen in place,listening to them have sex, trying to imagine exactly what was happening behind the door...
Was he fucking her on top of the sink? Or against the wall? Did he cover her mouth with a hand to muffle the moans, or was it with his own lips? By the sound of the bodies slapping together, I'd say the rhythm was hard and fast, which was my favorite too.
Fuck.
I'd gotten so hard that I had to tie my jacket around my waist to hide it while I practically ran to my car. There was no way to go to class like that, so I went home.
And I jerked off thinking about them.
The worst part is I couldn't even bring myself to regret it, because it had been an incredible orgasm. I closed my eyes and let my imagination run while I remembered Charlie's held-back little cries, the back-and-forth of teasing between them...
In my head, I'd knock on the door and ask them to let me watch from the front row. Ethan would give a little laugh and fuck her even harder against the sink, holding Charlie by the neck and making her look at me. He'd say every kind of filthy thing until she rolled her eyes and came, throwing her head back, giving me quite a view.
Was that how you found out you were into voyeurism? Dying of lust imagining your best friend having sex with his girl?
I didn't know. And I figured I wasn't ready to investigate that point about myself further, so I did exactly what was easiest:locked it in a little door in my mind and pretended it never happened.
It wasn't working right, though. And that's why I was avoiding Ethan as much as possible, so much that I was late on purpose getting to the locker room that game afternoon, cutting into the time we'd have to chat.
