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Second Chance Summer

Second Chance Summer (Chance #1)(19)
Author: Emma Hart

“Just move in with me, babe. Seriously. You know I can’t cook for shit, and this place is a mess. I’ll wash my own boxers.”

“I’m not moving in so I can be your bitch.”

I can almost hear him grinning. “You won’t be my bitch. Well, not my full bitch. My full bitch would be someone that could wash my boxers and satisfy in the bedroom. By the way that offer is still open.”

“In your dreams,” I respond. “I have most of my wages from the café saved. Let me pay you something each month.”

He sighs. “Fine, but I have terms.”

“You want me to make sure your laundry is done – minus your damn boxers – keep your place half-tidy, and not be around on Friday nights.”

“Fuck, Kia.” He sighs again. “You’re like my perfect girl. Are you sure I can’t talk you in to getting over that southern douche?”

“He’s not a douche,” I say softly. “I’m the ass**le, Jay. You know how it went.”

“And you’re still being one. Yada, yada, yada. That’s the problem with you girls – you all complain when we’re dicks to you, but when we’re nice you crush us.”

“Gee, thanks. What would I do without your oh so helpful insight?”

“I was just sayin’.” He clicks his tongue. “Hey – you ever thought that if you just asked your mom what happened with your dad, you might be able to move on?”

“Yeah. A few times. But I don’t know if I want to know.”

“Goddamn, where’s the girl I know?”

“What’s that meant to mean?”

“The sassy, confident Kia I know. You go back to Alabama and you’re like a f**king hermit crab too afraid to poke her head out of her shell.”

“I…” Have nothing to say, because he’s totally right.

“Hey; you don’t have to spend the next three years in a dorm because I’m gonna clear out my spare room ready for you to come back whenever the f**k you want. Until then, you’re gonna hang up the phone and put some big girl thongs on ready to go talk to your mom about what happened. Then, you’re gonna process that and go speak to your cowboy. Have we got that?”

My lips twitch. “He’s no cowboy, but okay.”

“Okay?” He sounds a bit shocked.

“Okay. You’re right.” I shrug. “I’ve done nothing but be a whiny bitch since I got here. I’ve lead Reese on because I’m too much of a wimp to find out the truth. I need to sort my shit out, don’t I?”

“Some groveling might not go amiss if you f**ked him then ignored him for two days.” He sighs. “Yet another reason you’re my kinda girl.”

“Jay.” I scowl even though he can’t see me.

He laughs. “Go on. Go sort your shit out, like you say, and if it all goes tits up, I’m here waiting for you to get back, all right?”

“You’re the best, Jay.”

“I know, babe, I know. I get that a lot.”

“You’re also kind of an ass**le.”

“I know that, too.”

I smile, feeling a lightness in my heart. He’s the biggest ass**le I’ve met, but at least he admits it, and it makes him kind of endearing. “I’ll speak to you, later.”

“You better. Love ya.”

“Love ya.” I hang up and make my way downstairs.

Mom is banging in the kitchen, presumably making a cup of coffee. Well, I think she is. It’s three in the afternoon so it could go either way.

“Momma?” I say softly.

“Oh, Kia.” She looks up from the counter. “I didn’t know you were in.”

You never do. “Yeah, just sorting out some living arrangements for next year.”

“I thought you lived in the, er, dorm?”

“I do, but a friend said I can stay with him, so I’m gonna move in there.”

She nods. No questions about who “him” is, no questions about how I’m gonna afford it. Never any questions.

I sit at the table in the middle of the kitchen and watch her. She really is a shadow of the person she used to be. The person who used to sing her way around the kitchen instead of moping, the person who used to dance with a mop just to make us laugh. For a second, I flash back to a memory where Momma was singing and dancing around the kitchen. Dad had grabbed her, laughing. He kissed her soundly, and I remember thinking how much they loved each other. How perfect they were together.

How badly I wanted a love like that.

How badly I wanted a love with the power to make me feel like a princess, complete with a fairytale ending.

“Why you starin’ at me like that?”

I blink and focus on her. “I was… thinking.”

“‘Bout what?”

My stomach rolls a little, and not in a good way. I look at the table, running my finger along the grain of the wood. “Why did Daddy leave?”

Her mug bangs on the side and is followed by a curse as a bit of coffee splashes everywhere. I flinch a little, not daring to look up.

“Why? He ain’t ever cared about you, Kia. Remember who left us. We didn’t leave him. He’s the one that ain’t bothered, so why are you so bothered?”

“I know he left, Momma, and I know he ain’t bothered. I just wanna know why he left. There’s gotta be a reason, right?”

“The reason is he’s a good for nothin’ excuse of a man!”

“I can’t imagine him leavin’ us for no reason. The person I knew wouldn’t have done that.”

“Then he fooled us all, girl. He fooled us good and proper.”

“I just… I don’t get it.”

“You ain’t gotta get it, Kia. I don’t get it.”

I hear a cap unscrew and I look up. Vodka. Of course. Whenever it gets hard, turn to the bottle. Numb the pain. Drink it away.

“I just wanted to know.”

“Well, now you do. He’s an ass**le. Not everyone needs a reason to do somethin’, y’know. Sometimes they just do it.” She grabs a glass from the cupboard and takes the open bottle upstairs, leaving me in the kitchen alone.

I stare blankly at her still-steaming, untouched mug of coffee on the side, and wonder why she bothers making a drink of anything that won’t numb whatever feelings she has left.

~

“You’re an ass**le.”

“Yeah? It’s a family thing.”

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