“Finally,” he said, “I was getting tired of kicking your ass.”
She nudged his elbow. “I was going easy on you, because I wasn’t sure you remembered how to bowl.”
He swatted her ass, not caring about who saw it, and that turned her on. “Watch it, girl. Or you’ll pay for it later.”
“Maybe that’s exactly what I want,” she whispered, then grabbed her milkshake and took a sip of it. She swirled her tongue around the thick straw, staring at him, trying her hardest to look sexy and hoping she pulled it off. But then, laughter floated up her throat.
She ended up coughing on some milkshake, some of the liquid sloshing out of the glass and staining her shirt. “Crap.”
“Maybe you’re paying for it now,” he chuckled.
She touched her shirt. “I’ll go get cleaned up,” she said, and sashayed to the bathroom fully aware he gazed at the sway of her hips. She didn’t have eyes on her back, but didn’t need to. She’d caught him looking at her ass a few times when she’d walked away from him.
These little things should remind her that unlike her, he knew how to compartmentalize things; he enjoyed her body, but not enough to make a mess of his life. If she weren’t Madison’s friend, would he act differently?
He didn’t seem like the snob type at all, but she wasn’t a successful woman who knew what to do in every situation. She opened the door to her bathroom, shaking her head, willing these thoughts away again. Why waste time wondering if she’d be his forever girl if he made clear she wouldn’t be in his life longer than one summer? She turned on the tap, dabbed some water on the paper towel, then tapped it on her shirt. As the chocolate began to disappear, she turned off the water and pressed the paper towel again, rubbing it just enough to get rid of the stain without spreading it.
“Alyssa?” said a raspy, female voice that was also tainted by years of smoke. She raised her gaze from her shirt to the woman wearing jeans and a bright shirt monogrammed with the bowling alley’s logo. The years, the smokes and the alcohol certainly hadn’t been kind to this woman. Her skin was pale, eyes surrounded by perpetual dark rings, and her brown hair had thinned out even more than Alyssa remembered.
Yet, there was no doubt about the woman’s identity. “Mom?” she called, hating herself for spontaneously using that word, one that happy kids should call their mothers.
Cherry didn’t try to hug her, she just flashed her a knowing smile. “It’s me, honey.”
A tight knot formed in Alyssa’s throat. “You’re working here?” She put the paper towel in the trash, no longer caring about fully removing a stain.
“Three months now. I saw you out there with that man.”
Alyssa shifted her weight from one foot to the other, unsure about what to say. Denying they were together was futile. After all, she had been all over Knox.
Her mother didn’t know who Knox was—if he was Madison’s father or a known writer. Best to keep it that way. “And?” she simply asked.
“You’re smart. You won’t end up like me,” her mother said.
Alyssa cleared her throat, an uneasiness raising the hairs on the back of her neck. Somehow she wasn’t sure Cherry meant this as a compliment. Most of the words that came from her mother’s mouth were self-serving. “I won’t,” she agreed, but doubted she and her mother talked about the same things.
“I’ve heard about young girls like you. Banking on your looks,” Cherry said, her eyes doing a once over. “I made mistakes because I cared too much about the men in my life. I should have been savvier.”
Or maybe you should have been a better mother. “If you’re calling me a sugar baby, that’s not what I’m doing.”
“I’m not judging you,” her mother said, then coughed.
Good, because her mother had no standing to judge anyone. Still, a thread of irritation worked its way through her. “I don’t care if you are. I’m just saying, I’m not with him because of his money. I care about him.”
“Who wouldn’t? He’s a very handsome man.”
“I agree with you there.”
“Still. A man like that isn’t usually at this side of town.”
She frowned, and heat flushed her cheeks like she’d been caught in a lie. Truth was, she agreed with her mother on that point. He didn’t have to bring her all the way here, did he? “How do you know? You don’t know him.”
“I saw his clothes. His haircut. Understated, but all that shit is expensive. Makes me wonder, why isn’t he taking you to bowl in West Hollywood or some other fancy area?” her mother said, then venom dripped from her voice. “Unless… he’s married.”
Alyssa’s heart squeezed in her chest. “He is not married,” she said, pushing the words past her teeth. She didn’t bother with saying goodbye, and marched out of the bathroom, not tossing Cherry as much as a look over her shoulder.
Cherry was wrong, but she was also right. She’d noticed her daughter was being treated like someone’s dirty little secret. Whether she was accurate about the circumstances was a different story.
A sensation of defeat expanded in her chest, then dipped to her stomach. She hated when her mother had a point. She’d come so far from her mother’s raising, yet right now it didn’t seem like they were that different. Her mother many times took less than what she deserved. How was what she was doing with Knox not selling herself short?
