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“Weren’t you the one trying to warn me about her in the first place? Now you want us back together?”
“I just want my baby boy back home. I’m worried about you, Shea.”
“Ma, I’m fine—”
“You’re sleeping in hotels and I don’t know if you’re eating and—”
“Ma,” I stated firmly. “I’m fine. I promise.”
Her sigh weighed heavy on my heart. I hated disappointing her, but she could never understand how I felt about this situation. Of course she meant well, but I had no intentions of backing down and getting back with Kayla.
“Can you at least think about talking to her?” she finally asked.
“We’ll see,” I answered, biting in my apple. “I have to get back to work. I’ll call you later.”
“Okay, son. Please be safe. I love you, honey bun,” she said. A small smile touched my lips at the sound of my nickname. She’d always called me that as a kid, claiming I was the sweetest thing she’d ever laid eyes on when I was born.
“I love you too, Ma. Talk to you soon,” I said and hung up.
“Hey,” Rocky’s son, Chris, muttered as he walked over to the coffee pot. He was tall and lanky, kind of resembling a praying mantis depending on how he stood. His shaggy brown hair hung over his green eyes and almost covered the top half of his face. You hardly ever saw his eyes unless Rocky forced him to put his hair in a ponytail or behind his ears. His lack of facial hair gave him the looks of a teen boy, which definitely matched his immature behavior 90% of the time.
“Looks like the dead has finally risen,” I teased, taking another bite of the apple. “Work started at nine this morning.”
“Not you too,” he groaned, pressing two fingers against his temple. “Dad’s already chewed me out.”
“I bet.”
“What’s the deal with that Nissan out there?” he asked.
I shrugged. “Eh, some chick hit a deer and ran into a ditch.”
His eyes lit up at the mention of a woman. “Was it a hot chick?” he asked.
“Was she?” I said with a grin. “Her friends were, too.”
“Sounds like a potential gang bang ready to happen,” he said. I laughed and shook my head.
“I don’t think the blonde one would be down with that. Seems like a goody two-shoes.”
He scoffed and waved a dismissive hand at me. “Blondes like to have fun and my magic stick knows how to bring it out of them,” he said, pelvic thrusting and wiggling his eyebrows.
“Nah, that may be the brunette’s speed. Has a sweet face like Lana Del Rey, but I bet she’d fuck you until your nut sack’s empty,” I joked.
Chris abruptly stopped pelvic thrusting and looked at me. “Wait…”
“Too much for you to handle?” I asked with a smirk.
“You said there were three of them?”
“Yep.”
“One of them was blonde and kind of short?”
“Yep.”
“One that kinda looks like Lana?”
“Yep.”
