Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 84247 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84247 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Wow. So Mom had been talking about me? I was surprised…yet not. Our relationship was complicated. “Yeah, and you are?” I took a drink of my beer.
“I’m Lawson. I own the café she works at—Sunrise. Your mom, she’s great. I’m surprised she didn’t tell me you were coming.”
“Oh, that’s probably because she doesn’t know yet. Surprise!” They all looked at me like I was crazy. Except Lap Twink. I think he got me. It was him who recovered first.
“I’m Kellan, by the way. The grumpy bartender is my brother—”
“Hey, I’m not grumpy. I introduced myself before the rest of you,” Griffin said. Kellan ignored him.
“This sexy guy is my boyfriend, Chase. The dude-bro is my bestie Josh.”
“Oh my God. I called him the same thing in my head. Dude-bro, that is, not Josh, because obviously, I didn’t know his name.”
“What the fuck?” Josh said. Kellan ignored him too. I liked Kellan.
“The ladies are Cynthia and Becca. My other bestie Natalie is working.” He pointed to Blond Curls—Lawson—and said, “You know Law and Remy. Crazy, right? Remington fucking Monroe in Havenwood. He writes songs about Law and came out professing his love for him on TV.”
I remembered that story, but I had no idea they lived in Mom’s hometown and she worked for the dude who snagged Remington. Who would have thought?
“Jesus Christ.” Lawson shook his head.
Chase laughed. “Can you stop acting like you’re surprised at anything he says and does? This is Kellan, and we love him for it.”
“Thanks, baby,” Kellan said to him. “At the end of the counter we have Knox, who methinks you noticed.” He lowered his voice. “Sorry, he’s straight.”
I shrugged. I wasn’t going to deny I’d been interested. “Nice to meet you guys.” The flag made more sense now. Griffin was clearly supportive of his brother and friends.
“Are you planning on telling Mary Beth you’re here?” Lawson asked, studying me strangely. I was assuming he was close with my mom and maybe she had shared some things about me. He was staring like he knew more about me than just any random guy who employed my mom would.
“Of course. It was a spur-of-the-moment decision.” Yet, I’d found time to get my work license, hadn’t I? That was beside the point, though. I shifted on my stool, suddenly feeling like the worst son in the world. What did this guy know? “I’m going to go see her tomorrow. I drove out here from LA and I needed a drink, and now a bed, so if you’ll excuse me.” I grabbed my mug, finished the beer in long swallow after long swallow before asking Griffin, “What do I owe you?”
I was being a bit of a dick, and I knew it. I was prickly. My whole life had been turned upside down, and now I felt judged on top of it.
“On the house,” Griffin said.
“No. I can’t do that.” I tossed a ten on the countertop, looked to my right, and saw Remington fucking Monroe talking with his boyfriend. What the fuck universe was I in? Maybe this really wasn’t reality. I’d gotten into a car accident and was in a coma in a hospital in some random town where no one knew who I was, and they would never find me because, I don’t know, my wallet caught on fire or something.
“I was just curious,” Lawson said, but he didn’t seem to mean it. “No judgment. Only, Mary Beth means a lot to me.”
“It’s fine.” I waved him off, suddenly wanting to be alone. And maybe, maybe part of me was jealous of this man I didn’t know, because he apparently had a strong relationship with my mom.
Without another word, I walked out of the bar. The hotel was down the street, so I made the quick walk, went to my room, and wondered if I’d made a huge mistake.
Like trusting Stan. That had been a mistake.
What in the hell was I doing in Havenwood, showing up to see a mom I hadn’t been very close with in years, with no set place to stay and no job? If worst came to worst, I could live off the money I made selling my condo, but still.
The truth was, I couldn’t even blame this on Stan. We’d broken up two months ago, and that’s when I started planning the move, and I still hadn’t told her.
Lawson was right. I was a dick.
Yet I knew I wouldn’t leave.
The mattress in this hotel room sucked.
Even if I could ignore the ugly, floral bedding, I couldn’t overlook the lumps, one of which seemed to follow me no matter where I moved. How a lump did that, I had no idea, but then, if there was someone who was going to be followed by a bed bulge, it would be me. I much preferred bulges of the male kind.