She furrows her brow, and a curious smile spreads across her face. “I like issues.”
I run my thumb and forefinger across my forehead.
“You’ve never seen issues like mine, believe me.”
“Doesn’t seem to affect your, ahem, abilities.” She lets her eyes drift below my belt.
I let out a slow exhale. This is probably most guys’ dream come true. A hot blonde begging to be nothing but a friend with benefits.
Taking a moment to assess, I search inside myself for feelings. After all, she’s smart. Attractive.
But I feel absolutely nothing for her.
Just then, my phone buzzes with a text. Picking it up, I play like someone’s calling me.
“Hey Chandler, what’s up?” I say to no one on the line.
“Oh we have a team dinner after practice tonight . . . oh totally forgot about that . . .”
She sighs, and I smile as I nod into my phone like Chandler is continuing to talk to me.
It’s not that I mind being more forceful with her and simply telling her we are done. It’s more that I enjoy the thrill of the lie.
Just then, my phone rings. For real. While I’m holding it.
Natasha shoots me a funny look.
“Were you just . . . faking a conversation?”
“Call coming on the other line,” I say, waving her off. “Hi Mom.”
Rolling her eyes, Natasha walks away.
“How’s the best son in the world?” my mom drawls sweetly.
"Hey, Mama. What’s up?”
"Well, the reason I called is, you obviously know Mrs. Benson.”
My heart does a tumble at the name ‘Benson.’ I hold the phone away from my face, clutching it hard.
“No, Mom, I completely forgot that you two went to wine night together every Saturday in high school after my games. Why do you ask about her?”
“Well Carter, I have a favor to ask. Lacy is moving to Chicago for a modern dance tryout.”
My heart skips a beat. I can already feel my blood pressure rising.
“Lacy’s going to be in Chicago?”
“You didn’t know? I figured she might have called you or you would have seen her Facebook updates.”
My jaw tightens, and I try not to bite down too hard on my lip. My mom has no idea Lacy and I aren’t exactly on speaking terms, and haven’t been for years. “She must have forgotten to let me know,” I say through clenched teeth.
“So, do you think she could crash at your place while she’s there? Tryouts are an unpaid thing. Mrs. Benson is worried about Lacy having to pay rent. We were casually chatting at dinner last night, and I mentioned your new place and how you have that extra room. Apparently Lacy’s living arrangements fell through at the last second. And Lacy is too shy to ask for favors, you know how she is. So that’s why I’m calling.”
I move my mouth to start talking, but nothing comes out.
It’s just past the first of June. It’s the tail end of spring, and we’re headed into summer in Chicago, after putting up with one hell of a winter. This is the first summer I’ll be living all by myself, in a place that I officially own.
I’ve already declared the theme of this summer to be freedom.
The freedom I’ve earned with a lifetime of dedication to my sport, which culminated just a few weeks ago when I signed a monster contract.
Freedom doesn’t mean spending a summer with my ex-girlfriend.
My mom can sense my silent resistance.
“And you two always get along so well, anyway. It’s only eight weeks and then she’ll be out of your hair.”
I grind my teeth.
Only eight weeks.
She’s got me between a rock and a hard place.
Lacy Benson always knew how to fuck with me.
Still does, after all these years.
As big of an asshole as I am, I can’t say ‘no’ to my own mother.
“Just eight weeks?” I bite out.
“Just eight weeks, and she’ll be out of your hair. I talked with Mrs. Benson. She says her audition is at the end of July.”
My cat Smokey brushes my leg.
She licks her paw.
I can feel the tension on the other side of the line.
“Of course she can stay with me, Mom,” I finally bite out.
“I thought you’d be fine with it. I mean, you two get along so well.”
“Of course we do.”
“She’ll be arriving on the train tonight around seven-thirty. I’m sure she’ll be tired. She left yesterday morning.”
“That’s great. Just great. I can’t wait to see her,” I lie.
My mom and I say some more pleasantries, then we hang up.
“Smokey,” I growl. “Come here. I’m done playing games.”
I stare her down.
Finally, she rolls her neck and jumps into my arms. Maybe she senses the anger emanating from me just thinking about Lacy’s name.
Well, if Lacy’s going to be here, at the very least maybe I can finally get some revenge and even the score for what she did to me.
Natasha walks back into the room in heels. She shakes her head, and puts her hands on her hip.
“How was your chat with ‘your mom’?” she says, making air quotes.
I smirk.
“You’re an asshole,” she says, shaking her head.
I nod. “I know.”
“I can handle asshole. But I can’t handle a blatant liar. I’m leaving.”
As the door slams, I feel nothing in my heart.
Not desire. Not hate or ill will. Just indifference.
The way my heart feels about Lacy Benson, however, is another matter entirely.
I’m not indifferent to her. I hate Lacy with every bone in my body for how she lied to me.
——End Preview—
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About the Author
Mickey Miller is a romance author and storyteller of many top 100 Amazon bestselling stories. This is his 22nd novel. His mom does not read his books, thank you for asking.
You can find the rest of his books on Amazon. Most are free in Kindle Unlimited and you can simply search ‘Mickey Miller books’ in the Amazon search bar to see them all.
In his free time he likes to play music in his folk band, travel, and fantasize about getting a puppy while worrying about the responsibility it would entail.
Feel free to hit him up with your favorite travel reccomendations for 2021 and beyond in the DM on Instagram @mickeymillerauthor
Have a great day and thank you for reading!
Lots of love,
Mickey Miller