My Favourite Mistake. Chelsea Cameron M.

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СКАЧАТЬ bit it. I wiped it off and licked my finger. Hunter was watching me, as if waiting for my reaction.

      “It’s okay, I guess,” I said, cutting up another piece and shoving it in my mouth. He raised his eyebrows and took a bite of his own, chewing slowly.

      Sweet Christ it was like I’d died and gone to breakfast heaven. I really hoped he wouldn’t use his cooking skills as leverage for sexual favors. For this, I might have to give in.

      “I think we need to have a toast,” Renee said, raising her glass. Well, it was really a plastic cup. None of us had brought champagne glasses with us when we moved in. “To hidden talents,” she said.

      We all clinked our glasses. Hunter winked when ours met. I wrinkled my nose at him.

      “If you guys are going to eat like this every night, I might have to move in,” Mase said. “All we have is microwave popcorn, beer and week-old fried chicken that no one remembers buying.”

      I shuddered, as did Renee.

      “My ex-boyfriend never stocked his fridge. I always had to bring my own groceries when I stayed over,” Renee said, emphasizing the word ex. As if everyone hadn’t caught it.

      “I think it’s a guy thing,” I said.

      “Not every guy,” Hunter said.

      “Apparently not,” I responded.

      My phone vibrated with a text from my mother, and I excused myself to chat with her. Hunter gave me a questioning look, but I hit Call, put the phone to my ear and ignored him.

      “Hey, Kid, long time no talk! I thought you were lying in a ditch somewhere,” she said as I settled onto my bed to chat.

      “Nope, sorry to disappoint. I’m alive and well. Sorry I haven’t called you. Things have been a little nuts.”

      “How did moving in go?”

      I gave her a quick rundown. I felt like I needed to record myself telling the story so I could just hit Play when someone asked. I left out a lot when I gave her the mom-version. I didn’t want to worry her. She always worried about me more than Tawny. I wasn’t sure if it was because I was the baby or because of my issues. Perhaps both.

      “Oh, no.” She proceeded to urge me to go right down to housing and give them hell. I told her that was what I had done, but I hadn’t gotten anywhere.

      “Well, I’m going to call and give them a piece of my mind. That’s ridiculous that they won’t do anything. They’re just being lazy. Hang on,” she said, and I could tell she was putting me on speaker so she could look up the number.

      “Mom, it’s okay. I’ll deal. You don’t have to fight the bullies for me.”

      “But I’m your mother. I’ll always want to beat the crap out of people who are mean to you.”

      “No one was mean to me. It’s fine.” I was beginning to regret telling her. Mom was always trying to make up for not protecting me that one time. She’d been making up for it since I was twelve, and I didn’t know when it was going to end, or at least lower in intensity. I loved her more than I could say, but I didn’t need her to fight my battles for me.

      “Are you sure? You know I can make things happen.”

      It was true. That woman could talk her way in or out of anything. She had this way of making people believe what she wanted them to. In another life I thought she would have been a lawyer.

      “I know you can, and I love you for it. I’ve just gotta deal with it, okay? How about we talk about something else. How’s work?”

      She was reluctant to leave the topic but switched for my sake. We chatted for a few more minutes while she told me funny stories about her coworkers at the bank and silly customers who couldn’t understand how to use a debit card. She’d worked her way up at a local bank from teller to manager. I chatted a bit about my classes and told her about my job search. Nothing heavy, nothing serious.

      “Your father called today,” Mom said, casting a dark cloud over our chat.

      “What did he have to say?”

      “Not much. He said he wanted to see you soon.”

      He said that every time he called. My parents had gotten divorced when I was thirteen, and he lived in Connecticut now, which wasn’t far enough, in my opinion. He called me every now and then, but I always deleted his voice mails.

      “I’m sure he does.”

      “You should go and see him. I know he misses you.”

      “If he missed me, he’d come to see me.”

      “I know, Kid. I know.” She sighed, and I twisted my hair around one finger.

      “Listen, I’ll call you this weekend and we can talk more, okay?”

      “Okay, Kid. Love you.”

      “Love you, too.”

      I hung up and sat back on my pillows, closing my eyes. A soft knock made me sit up. “What do you want?” I knew it would be Hunter. The door cracked open, and he poked his head in.

      “Just wanted to let you know the guys are gone, and Renee went to the library to get some reading done, so if you wanted some privacy you didn’t have to hide in here.”

      Renee already had massive amounts of reading since she was a nursing major. She also had a sick obsession with gory descriptions of diseases.

      “Where are you going to be?” I said.

      “Where do you want me to be?” His smirk was back.

      “Wherever I’m not,” I said, getting off my bed and pushing past him into the living room. I really didn’t have any homework that had to get done tonight, so I decided to finish the book he’d so rudely distracted me from reading that morning.

      I got out my e-reader and folded myself on the couch. I had to use my left hand to hold it because my right was still recovering from the encounter with Hunter’s face. I should probably have put some more ice on it, but I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.

      The kitchen was spotless, the dishes already in the drainer and all other evidence of the breakfast buffet was gone. Guess cleaning was a hidden talent as well. Darah hadn’t had a chance to make our chore chart yet, but I was sure she was on it.

      “Do you mind if I play?”

      “No, go ahead,” I said, not looking up from my book.

      He went to our room and came back with his guitar. I hadn’t really looked at it the day before, but it had definitely been through the ringer. It was black and dinged and scratched all over. He sat in the chair across from the couch and settled the strap around his neck. I kept reading but waited for him to start.

      “Requests?”

      “I thought I had to pay for them,” I said.

      “I’m СКАЧАТЬ