It takes her a few minutes, but when she opens the door, I scoop her up into my arms, spin her around, and push her against the door as I close it. My lips land on hers and my hand—the one that’s not holding a bag of Frankie Donuts—grips the back of her head. I dive into her mouth with my tongue and press my pelvis into her—just as I hear a throat clear behind us.
I still, wince, and turn around to find her mom sitting on the couch.
Oh fuck.
When I release Indie, her face doesn’t read angry, just . . . content.
“Uh, sorry about that, Mrs. Mayhem,” I say, straightening my shirt and awkwardly handing Indie the bag of donuts. “Just making a donut delivery.”
“Well, I’ve never seen a donut delivery like that, nor have I ever seen friends greet each other in such a friendly way.”
Indie sighs next to me and says, “I was just about to tell my mom that we’re seeing each other, but you beat me to it.”
“Nothing like making an entrance,” I say, feeling incredibly awkward. I scratch the back of my neck and say, “You know, I can come back another time.”
“No, stay. We can chat,” Mrs. Mayhem says, but Indie grips my hand, holding me in place.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. I’m sure Lincoln has a bunch of finals to study for.”
“Oh yeah, sure. I do,” I answer, even though I don’t have finals in any of my classes, just final papers. But I’m pretty good at picking up the tone of the room. “Just wanted to drop those donuts off.”
“Such a shame. Maybe we can catch up another time?”
“Yeah, that would be great.” I wave at Mrs. Mayhem and then reach for the door.
Thankfully Indie says, “I’m just going to walk him out.”
“Take your time.”
Hand in hand, Indie walks me to my Jeep where we both stop at the driver’s door. “I’m sorry,” she says, looking up at me. “My mom surprised me and said she needs to talk to me. I have no idea what she’s going to say, but I’m sure it can’t be great if she drove here on a weeknight.”
“No need to apologize, babe.” I tilt her chin up and press a chaste kiss across her lips. “I’ll just talk to you later.” I reach for my car door when she stops me.
“Wait, why did you come over?”
“It’s not a big deal. I’ll tell you later.”
She stops me again. “Lincoln, you brought donuts, Frankie Donuts, which means it is a big deal. Tell me. I’ll probably need whatever news you have to help me get through this conversation with my mom.”
I feel bad about my timing, but I know she won’t let me get away without spilling the beans, so I grip both of her hands and say, “I hit ninety-five today, babe. Nine times.”
“Oh my God,” she shrieks as she hops up into my arms, her legs going around my waist. “Are you serious?”
I nod. “Yeah, Disik clocked me. I was feeling pretty good today. Louis said he could tell I’d added some steam to my pitches, so Disik came up to me with a radar gun. At first I didn’t think I hit it, because he kept making me repeat the pitch, but when he finally handed the radar gun away and told me I did it . . . hell, I had to tell you. You were the first person I wanted to tell, Mayhem,” I say, bringing my forehead to hers.
She grips both of my cheeks. “I’m so proud of you, Lincoln. That’s amazing.”
“Do you know what this means?”
“What?” she asks, a huge smile pulling at the corners of her mouth.
“Because I hit ninety-five, that means we get to have sex in the locker room now.”
“Wait . . . what?” she asks, a little crinkle to her nose. “When did we ever agree to that?”
“I agreed to it in my head.”
“And you think that counts?”
“It does in my book.” I wiggle my eyebrows, and she smooths her hand over my face, laughing.
“Keep dreaming, Castle.” She lowers her mouth and lightly presses a kiss to my lips. “I’m really proud of you. This made my night, so thank you for telling me, and thank you for the donuts.”
“Just a small thank you for helping me. Seriously, babe, I’m so grateful for your help.”
“Don’t forget it when you’re an All-Star pitcher in the big leagues.”
“Never,” I answer while kissing her again.
After a few passes of our mouths, she asks, “Depending on when my mom leaves, do you think I could come over?”
“Yeah, you never have to ask, babe. Come over whenever you want.”
“Okay. Thanks.” She presses another kiss to my lips and then hops off my waist. “I’ll call you.”
I give her one more kiss and then head back home, content to wait for her call.
A call she never makes.
Chapter Seventeen
INDIE
When I shut the door, my mom doesn’t take very long to question me about Lincoln. Honestly, I had no intention of talking about him, but when he showed up, I didn’t want my mom to make a big deal of things with Lincoln there. So I told her.
And thankfully she didn’t.
But now we’re alone, and I know her curiosity will need to be answered.
“And you told me you were just friends.” Her voice is teasing, and I know she’s trying to joke with me, but it’s coming off as more annoying than anything.
“Things progressed.”
I take a seat on the couch, leaving the donuts on the coffee table.
“Is Lincoln your boyfriend?”
“No.” I shake my head quickly. “Just having fun.”
Her brow crinkles. “As in just sex?”
“You know, I think you hardly have any room to judge given the fact that you’re married and apparently have a boyfriend.”
She leans back, hands clasped in front of her. “I guess I deserved that.” A wave of guilt washes through me, and I’m about to apologize when she says, “And that’s a good segue into why I came to talk to you.”
“Okay,” I say, pulling a throw pillow into my chest, nerves itching up the back of my spine.
“As you know, your dad and I are seeing different people. Well, things have progressed for your father, and he’s fallen in love.”
“With another woman?” I ask, feeling so sick to my stomach about the whole thing that it’s hard to listen to my mom talk about it.
“Yes, with his mistress. He respects me and cares for me enough that he’s waiting to file for divorce until I can figure out health insurance.”
“Divorce?” I swallow hard.
“Yes, honey. Divorce. Your father is quite happy with Rochelle.”
“And what about you?”
“Well, Joe and I seem to be getting along just fine.”
Joe. He has a name. They both have a name.
It still feels so unreal that my parents have not only been sneaking around with other people, but they’re so accepting of it that they’re going to divorce. When did it start? Who cheated first? When did they both feel it would be okay to ignore every vow they ever took, to keep their daughter in the dark—and who the hell else knows that I’ll have to face next time I’m back home? What ever happened to true love? Does it not exist? They used to be so happy. Weren’t they? What happened to “until death do us part?”