“I went out with a friend,” Mom said, then her eyes shifted to the side, and she reached for her coffee.
“Who?” My tone dripped with suspicion. For a while she’d become friends with a woman she worked with and by extension hung with a really rough crowd. The woman was dating a biker from a biker gang and well, Shona or Shonda, or whatever her name was, was now in prison for aggravated assault. Classy. That was the end of that friendship. Luckily, I got my mom back.
“Nothing’s going on, baby,” she began and I was immediately on edge. “We’re just friends … but Martin asked me out last night for drinks so we could—”
“Dr. Barrett? Are you kidding me?”
“No. No, baby.” She grabbed my hand. “It’s not like that. He just needs someone to talk to. And you know he’d just done me a favor seeing Joey, I couldn’t—”
“Joey was already meeting with him, Ma. All I asked was you put in a good word for him not offer Dr. Barrett a blow job!”
“Jessica!”
I swallowed, my cheeks burning. “Sorry, Mom.”
“Jessica. Jesus.” She flung the covers off and got out of bed.
“I’m sorry. I said sorry.”
“Yeah, well. I know you better than that. You may be sorry for being crass, but you’re not sorry for the message.”
I stood too. “You’re right. I’m not. What did he need to speak about so urgently that he couldn’t wait until Monday morning?”
She walked to the mirror, wincing at her reflection and scraping her dyed blonde hair back into a low ponytail. She grabbed a tissue, wetting it with spittle and dabbing the old mascara beneath her lashes.
“You’re beautiful, Ma. You don’t need some sleaze ball doctor to take you out for that to be true.”
“I’m not getting any younger. Anyway, what’s the harm? We get along well, and it was just a drink.”
“You know he’s married, right?”
“Of course.” She glanced at me in the reflection of the mirror, then leaned down to rummage in her drawer for her yoga pants. “You know I’d never do that.”
“Never do what? Go out for drinks with another woman’s husband.”
“That’s enough, Jessica.”
“Whatever.” I turned away and headed for the door. I hated the panicked feeling she gave me in my chest. Like everything would fall apart. She’d lose her job, we wouldn’t have benefits, or be able to pay rent, or help me with tuition. I pulled the door, letting it swing back hard. “I’ll see you later.”
I CYCLED FAST to Keri Ann’s house, dumped my bike in the front yard, and ran up the porch steps almost tripping on my yellow flip flops. Flinging the front door open as I looked down to get them properly back on my feet, my head collided with the corner of something hard. Pain burst through my temple and I rocketed back, losing my balance as my ankle twisted. A howl left my throat, and I landed hard on my ass in the doorway just as a grunt sounded and a box came crashing down on top of me with a mountain of paper floating out of it.
“What the hell?” a deep male voice emanated from above. “Oh shit. Jazz, are you okay?”
“God, Joseph,” I yelled as the paper cleared to reveal the tall male in front of me looking down. Irritation, confusion, amusement, and contrition all crossed his face in record time, leaving me staring up into his steel blue eyes. I scowled and cringed in pain. “Ow,” I whimpered as I acknowledged the pain in my ankle joining the one in my head.
“Oh shit, I’m so sorry,” he dropped to a crouch in front of me, denim stretching over muscled thighs, and reached for my foot, his large warm hand closing around it.
My foot felt tiny in Joey’s strong hand. Flinching, I yanked my foot away. “I’ve got it,” I snapped.
Joey looked up in surprise at my tone.
“Is everything all right out there?” Nana’s voice came from behind me. “Oh my word. Joey, be a dear and help Jazz onto the porch swing and come get her some ice.”
“I’ve got it,” I said and held the doorframe, trying to bear weight. I couldn’t. Joey stepped in close, wrapping an arm around my waist and hauling me up against his firm side. “Come on,” he chastised. “Let me help you.”
I released a breath and let him help me limp to the swing. The wood was cool under my bare thighs. I was literally wearing the tiniest pair of cut off jean shorts known to man. It hadn’t bothered me this morning when I put them on, but now I felt practically naked. I did a quick inspection of my legs to make sure I’d been thorough with my razor. Not that I cared. It was just Joey. But still. Anyway, I might see Chase later, so …
Joey got down in front of me again, lifting a sardonic eyebrow. “I’m gonna touch your foot, okay? Try not to be a freaky filly.”
“A filly?”
“A horse.”
“I know what a filly is.” I snorted. “I can’t believe you just called me a horse.”
“Well,” he said and gently palpated up my foot toward my ankle. “Looks like your hoo—”