Page 102 of The Write Stuff

“No, I know Mick isn’t lying. The story he told me doesn’t make him look like an angel. He did my mother wrong. He owns it, though. The thing is, my mother did him wrong first.”

“What are you going to say to her?”

“I do not know. I’m just so angry right now.”

“At Mick?”

“At the situation. I am angry at him, but it’s something I think I can get over.”

That was a relief.

“I’m angry at her, too, though,” he said.

“Do you think you can get over that?”

“She’s my mother, so I’m going to have to try but … I’m really furious at her for what she did, Wylie.” He sat up in bed and stared down at me. “You probably haven’t thought about it yet, but if she hadn’t exploded everybody’s relationships, we might have gotten together years ago.”

I didn’t realize I was going to laugh until it popped out. It was half a snort as well and made me sound like an animal you might hear on safari.

“Sexy,” he drawled, and I giggled when he tickled me. He was sober when he pulled back. “My mother said she’ll be down the day after tomorrow. She doesn’t know what I want to talk about — I figured it was better not to give her a heads-up — but she knows it’s serious.”

“Well, tomorrow is the next reader event,” I mused. “I guess it’s good we’ll be able to get that out of the way before she gets here.”

“I was thinking the same thing.” He tucked me in at his side, so my head was on his shoulder.

“Do you want me there when you talk to her?” I asked finally. I knew I would be able to sleep now that he was with me, and I was growing wearier and wearier by the second. I wanted to be there for him, though, whatever that looked like.

“I’m going to want you to interact with her at some point,” he replied. “I think, at first, it should just be her and me. We have a lot to talk about. I expect there to be a meltdown.”

“How long do her meltdowns last?”

“It could be days, or even weeks. We’ll play it by ear.”

“I want to be there for you afterward, so if she’s mean, you need to call me, and I’ll come to you.”

“Well, I might come to you,” he countered. “That way, she won’t be able to find me. Plus, it’s obvious that I can’t sleep without you. I’ll let you know what happens either way, though.”

“Okay.” I traced my fingers over his chest. “We still have tomorrow. Mom and Mick are going to insist on a meal with you.”

“It will have to be breakfast or lunch because we have dinner before the reader event.”

“Oh, right.” I nodded. “Where is this one again?”

“I’m not sure. We’ll look it up in the morning.”

“Okay.” I exhaled heavily and snuggled in tight. “I’m so glad you came. I can’t sleep without you either.”

“I know. We’re totally gross and codependent like our friends. It happened much sooner than I was expecting.”

“I think it’s kind of fun.”

“Of course you do.” He kissed my forehead. “Goodnight, Wylie.”

I said goodnight to him in Klingon, which meant the last thing I heard was him laughing. It was my favorite sound in the world.

27

TWENTY-SEVEN