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“What? That’s ridiculous. Besides, I shower daily.”
Immediate regret filled my bones, because now I was picturing her in the shower. Dumbass move. Filling my mind with random regurgitations from my dissertation, I looked anywhere but at El, running a hand over the back of my neck.
“Listen, we can trade, but be prepared for negotiations.”
Smirking, she jabbed, “Like there’s ever been any other option for us.”
“Gotta keep you on your toes, Rhodes.”
“I think you have that backwards,” she teased, tossing her shoes toward the murder sofa. She had me there. It had always been Elora pushing me to do better, stealing my records a few years behind us, always in the back of my mind when I was tempted to settle for my version of mediocrity. Honestly, I’d been shocked she didn’t make herself go out for the football team just to see if she’d be a better running back.
“Yeah,” I agreed, a tense silence falling between us. When she rolled that lower lip between her teeth again, I smirked. “El. It’s fine. You’re not in the way. I’m not letting you march out into Sin City to find a room all alone. I have contained the evidence inside the couch, and we have to be downstairs in—” I glanced at my wrist but realized I’d taken off my watch and fumbled for my phone instead. “Seven hours.”
“You’re right. It’s…just like old times,” she said with false bravado, flashing that smile she used for YouTube and stage appearances. It was the Elora the rest of the world got, not the one I grew up with, and I immediately remembered how much I loathed it. I was about to agree with her anyway when my phone rang, and I looked down to see my mother on the screen.
“I should take this.”
“Say hi for me?”
“Will do,” I said, rising to step past her, and absolutely not inhaling the subtle lilac perfume lingering on her skin. The snick of the patio door clicking shut returned the air to my lungs a beat before I slid the answer button and said, “Hey, Mom.”
FIVE
BRODERICK
“You always make us proud, baby. Don’t be so hard on yourself,” Mom said about a half an hour later.
“I know, Ma. Competition’s going to be tough.”
“That’s a given—it's in the name.”
“Yeah,” I agreed, thinking of Elora, wrestling with whether to give her more details about the turn of events today and opting to avoid any additional opinions. I loved my mom, and she’d always been supportive. Not easy to please, but quick to support. She didn’t care if my marks fell, so long as she knew without a doubt that I’d given it my all. Dad was the same. Happy and healthy, with a good sense of integrity was their greatest concern. It was me having panic attacks if that percentage mark dropped toward a B. But Marley Allen made us dad’s favorite gumbo whether my team won or lost, whether I’d taken first place or last.
“Brod?” Her tone told me I’d lingered longer than appropriate, concern laced into that one syllable, making it feel longer. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, just tired,” I allotted. It wasn’t a lie, but I glanced over my shoulder to the closed patio door automatically. “Bumped into Elora Rhodes in the lobby today.”
“Elly!?” she chirped, her adoration obvious. El and Mom were birds of a feather, both so driven it would put most men on edge. “What on earth are the odds? Oh, how is she?”
The door seemed to grow in front of me as I gave her crumbs when a feast of information sat at the tip of my tongue. “Looks great—she's speaking on women in leadership—told me to say hello when I talked to you next.”
“Please say hi back! Always did love that girl.”
“I know,” I said, smiling. She wasn’t the only one. “Look, Ma, it’s getting pretty late here?—”
“Oh! Honey!” she said, blatantly frustrated with herself. “I’m sorry, I’ve kept you on too long. Just missing you already.”
“You’re fine, Mom,” I chuckled. “But I’m gonna hit the hay.”
“Okay. You get your sleep and kick some ass this week.”
Grinning at her enthusiasm, I said, “Alright, Ma. Talk soon.”
“Talk soon. Love you, baby.”
“Love you too. Tell Dad I love him, please.”
“I will, the moment I pry him away from that old rust bucket.”
