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My mother.
What a sensitive ass subject.
After a gulp from my makeshift champagne glass, I responded, “You mean, the mother who I hardly even hear from anymore?”
Because we hadn’t been in touch, that part was news to Lance, a confused frown on his lips when he asked, “Don’t tell me she’s still mad that you chose to live with your dad through the divorce?”
“Still to this day.”
Shaking his head, Lance responded, “That’s wild.”
“Is it? I mean, you’ve stayed mad at me all these years for choosing to go to Oregon.”
“Well, yeah. But she’s your mother.”
“Who was cheated on by my father and then left to deal with the fact that her only daughter still picked him over her.”
Saying it out loud came with a wave of emotion that I wasn’t expecting, my bottom lip pulled tightly between my teeth as I tried to keep myself from having a full-blown meltdown while Lance reached over to put a comforting hand against my thigh.
“My bad, Yani. I ain’t mean to upset you.”
His touch wasn’t helping in the way he thought it was since now I was both emotionalandhorny. And the way he was looking at me wasn’t helping either, the glazed, lusty glow in his eyes somehow giving both,“I feel so fuckin’ bad for you, Yani”and,“I’d fuck the shit outta you, Yani”which meant I was changing the subject before I made a fool of myself by guessing the wrong one.
“This house is...reallynice.”
With a pat to my leg, Lance hopped up from his stool and bragged, “You ain’t even seen the best part yet,” already taking off as I got up to follow him to an unknown destination that sent us down a hallway, up a set of stairs, and then down another hallway until he stopped in front of a door that had a code on it.
When he covered the keypad with his hand, I couldn’t help but roll my eyes as I waited for his code to go through. But once we were in, I completely understood why he had the room on lockdown, my eyes wide as I looked around and gushed, “Lance, this is absolutely insane in the best way possible. I mean, you practically have your own damn shoe store in here!”
With walls that were lined with stacks of clear storage boxes containing literally every sneaker you could think of and a glass display case of more exclusive kicks as the centerpiece, it felt like I was in one of the few museums I could happily spend the night in. And for good reason, Lance was standing back watching me explore like a proud husband who’d just built some cool shit, a grin on his face as he responded. “I know, right? And this doesn’t even include the everyday kicks I keep in my bedroom downstairs.”
“As if I needed another reason to envy you,” I sighed, taking a closer look at the wall dedicated to just Jordans as Lance sidled up to me and argued, “You ain’t got it all bad.”
I didn’t know what he was talking about until I looked his way and he responded by leaning back just slightly to take a peek at my ass, his attention turning me into a damn schoolgirl as I giggled, “Oh, stop.”
“I’m just sayin’,” he insisted with a smirk. “I don’t remember you having all that.”
“And I owe it all to the top-tier strength and conditioning program at THEE University of Oregon,” I bragged, giggling even harder once Lance responded with a groaned, “Fuck outta here with that bullshit.”
“Don’t hate on my alma mater!”
“I’m not hatin’ at all,” he defended, the smirk on my face immediately calling bullshit until I noticed the way his energy had changed to something a lot less playful. And honestly, I was confused about what had caused the switch until Lance quietly added, “I just hope it was worth it,” his comment stilling me as he scrubbed a hand down his facial hair and left the room.
