Chapter Fourteen
“Your mother is here?”
I’m stunned as I watch Brinly adjust her dress and fix her hair, using the small mirror against the wall, transforming from sexy mistress to a prim and proper princess. All for the sake of her mother.
She calmly walks over to the door and opens it wide, allowing room for a woman who looks more like Cruella Deville than any family member of Brin’s. Her hair is snow white in a short, sleek bob, and she wears some sort of mink or fur coat.
“Brinly.” Her mother’s voice is stern and devoid of warmth. She places an air kiss on both of Brinly’s cheeks and then glances around the room until her eyes land on me.
It’s a death glare if I’ve ever seen one.
Her nose turns upward as if she smells rancid trash and her dark eyes narrow.
“You must be the hockey player.”
The woman says this like it’s a disease. It takes me a few moments to find my voice. One, because I’m still coming down off the high from that amazing blow job Brin just gave me. And two, because I’m seriously at a loss of what to say.
Taking three tentative steps forward, I extend my hand to introduce myself, but she waves me away.
“No need for introductions. I don’t care to know you because you won’t be seeing my daughter again. Brinly, grab your things, we’re leaving.”
Brin looks as stunned as I feel. I know nothing about her mother except that she’s an owner of some successful company and lives in New York. Now I understand Brin’s reluctance to ever talk about her mother. She’s the devil. Or a witch. And clearly a controlling bitch.
“Mother, I am not about to leave this house tonight. I have an obligation to my sorority and our charity to be here to host this room.”
Her mother, whom I still don’t know the name of, turns toward Brinly and I can only make out the scowl on her face.
“If by hosting, you mean cavorting like a prostitute? Is that how you’re raising money tonight, Brinly? By offering your services to” – she waves a flippant hand toward me – “athletes?”
“Mrs. Davis, that’s uncalled for,” I protest, stepping next to Brinly and folding an arm around her shoulder.
Her mother turns her head slowly to stare me down. “It’s Ms. Davis. And you, young man, need to leave immediately or I will be making a phone call to the Head of the Athletic department and inform them that you forced my daughter into doing whatever sexual act you did tonight. And I’m sure your athletic scholarship won’t tolerate sexual harassment and rape from one of its recipients.”
Brin’s eyes turn into saucers. “Mother how dare you even suggest such a thing. Preston is my boyfriend and whatever we do together is consensual.”
Ms. Davis slips on her leather gloves, and ever so coolly, ever so calculatingly calm, flips over her palm to smooth out the wrinkle.
“You have two choices, Brinly. You come with me this instant and we can discuss the possibilities of you returning to this university. Or you can stay with him,” she nods her head in my direction, “and you’ll not receive another dime from me ever again. Do I make myself clear?”
It’s like the air has been sucked out of the room. This woman is the epitome of scary. Freddie Krueger and It have nothing on this piece of work.
Brinly stands speechless, her face turning white as a ghost, yet her body flushing hot under my touch. My arm is still wrapped around her and I give her shoulder a gentle squeeze, reminding her I’ve got her back. I’m here for her.
As if it all happens in slow motion, Brinly takes a step forward, leaving my hand to dangle at my side. I have no idea what she’s thinking or what’s going through her mind right now, but she bends down to a table near the door and grabs her purse, slipping the strap over her shoulder. Then she turns back to me, looks me straight in the eye and says, “Good-bye, Preston.”
Her kiss on my cheek is whisper-soft, just a brush of her lips that I know I’ll feel there forever.
Ms. Davis walks toward the door and Brinly follows, not even turning over her shoulder one last time.
“Wait…don’t go.” I reach out to touch her but she’s too far away to make contact.
I have no means of keeping Brinly here. Her mother holds all the cards. All I have is the way I feel about her and what I think our future could be like together. I need her in my life and can’t let her walk away like this under these conditions.
“Please, Brin. I love you.”
Apparently, that’s not enough for a guy like me to hold on to a girl like Brinly.
