Chapter 5 #2
Flinging the lid of my jewelry box open, I place the note under the top compartment before grabbing a pair of pink bow studs. Securing them, I grab my clutch and slip on a pair of white strappy sandals before heading downstairs.
Brunch club is a tradition my mom and her friends have had since they were young. Every Sunday, they get together for mimosas and family-style breakfast either at a restaurant or one of their houses.
Over the years, as their friend circle and families grew, it went from being a group of four to a party of ten.
Originally, it was my mom and her three best friends, Daphne, Charleigh, and Kendall.
Now, it’s also my sister and me, Daphne’s daughter, Rose, Daphne’s ex-husband’s wife, Evie, and their daughter, Nova, and Jess, my uncle Sean’s long-time girlfriend.
None of my aunts and uncles are actually related to us, but my parents have been friends with them for so long that we might as well all be one big family.
“Are you guys excited to be starting fifth grade next year? I know River really wants Mrs. Southerd. What about you both?” I ask Rose and Nova.
The girls have been inseparable since Aunt Evie and Uncle Eric adopted Nova when she was three.
They are the complete opposite of each other: Rose with sun-kissed skin and bright blonde hair, and Nova with a snowy complexion and dark hair that she always wants to brighten up with colored clip-in extensions.
They couldn’t be more different, but I think that’s what makes them best friends.
Rose scoops some fruit from a bowl while Nova plates herself some bacon before they smoothly switch dishes. “We want Mrs. Southerd, too. We obviously have to be in the same class as River,” Rose states, as if I should have known that already.
I laugh and shake my head. “ Obviously.”
My little cousin has been stuck to River’s side like glue since kindergarten.
The aunts have made bets about when they’ll start dating, but lately, I’ve noticed that Rose’s eyes keep wandering to Liam whenever they’re in the same room.
The eight-year age difference is large enough that I’m not worried about warning my brother of her growing crush on him.
I know he will shut that down himself if she ever tries to act on it.
She’s too young to be worried about boys.
“Are you excited about prom next weekend, Luce?” Aunt Charleigh inquires.
“Ooh, yes. I hope you don’t mind us all coming over before you leave. I want to see you and Rhys together in person. I’m dying to see his face when he sees your dress,” Aunt Kendall adds as she takes a bite of stuffed French toast.
“I am excited,” I respond indifferently with a small shrug. “But honestly, it’s just a dance.”
“Just a dance? It’s a huge milestone, hon!” Aunt Daphne cries incredulously. She tucks her blonde hair behind her ear, bright blue eyes shining as her expression turns playful. “But I guess you’re already past the typical what happens after prom stage, aren’t you?”
Mom slams her hands over her ears and starts singing loudly, “La la la la la la! I don’t need to hear about my daughter having sex already!”
My aunts share an amused look as if they and Mom didn’t just take me to get sexy sets of lingerie for my upcoming milestones .
“Really, Bree? You know what she’s wearing under that prom dress. You’re the one who picked it out!” Aunt Charleigh laughs.
“Not to mention graduation night. As a matter of fact, wasn’t it your idea she wear that little number under Rhys’ jersey?
” Aunt Jess chimes in. She tosses back the rest of her mimosa and makes a face.
“You know, the only reason I tolerate this shit is because I love them.” She points at my mom and the other aunts.
“But I need a Bloody Mary.” Grabbing a bottle of champagne, she makes another mimosa, sliding it over to me discreetly before ordering a new drink.
My stomach flips as I pick up the glass and take a sip.
I’ve had plenty of mimosas at brunch club before, but for some reason, today, the bubbles go straight to my head.
Drinking isn’t something I’ve done much of since Rhys and I stole a bottle of bourbon from his parents’ liquor cabinet to take to our friend’s house when we were sixteen.
I thought I was going to die after a night of chugging it and whatever else everyone brought to our little get-together.
I’m not experienced enough to understand why some alcohol—mainly the amber-colored ones—make me feel like shit while I’m perfectly fine with others.
Three mimosas later, my brain is giggly, and my mouth is foggy.
Or is it the other way around?
I take another bite of fruit. If I get more food in my stomach, it will help.
Aunt Evie slides over a small plate with half an Eggs Benedict on it. “You need to eat more than fruit, Luce.”
Aunt Jess makes a hissing sound and grabs my champagne glass. “Yeah, no more for you, silly girl. Eat some carbs.”
I stare at my favorite breakfast dish, wanting desperately to cut into it, and watch the egg cover the bacon and English muffin with its delicious golden yolk.
Charlotte and Rhys’ words from last night haunt me, though, and instead, I pull out my phone as my aunts’ attention turns back to the adult conversation happening at the other end of the table.
Pulling up Lawson’s contact, I debate sending him a message.
The only reason I have his phone number is because once Rhys’ cell died when we went to their Boca home for the weekend.
Charlotte was supposed to be there when we arrived but was God knows where with God knows who, and Rhys didn’t know the new lock code.
Since he couldn’t remember his dad’s number off the top of his head, I reached out to Lawson on Iconic, a social media platform, and he gave me his number for emergencies.
This is an emergency, isn’t it?
I need to say thank you. I don’t want to be rude .
My body buzzes with excitement as I type out a message.
Lucy
Thank you for the cookies… and for the other thing.
He reads it immediately as if his phone were already in his hand and he was going to message me.
Lawson Morgan
You’re welcome.
His response is simple, sending a flood of disappointment rushing through me until I see the three dots that signal he’s typing more.
Lawson Morgan
I won’t be home a lot this week. If you want to clean up the office between practices, I’ll pay you what I’d normally pay my assistant. Just don’t throw anything away, please.
My shoulders slump at his words. I was hoping that we would get a chance to spend more time together.
He clearly does not feel the same.
And now, I feel like an absolute idiot for getting excited at the idea of spending the week with him. Lawson is drawing a line in the sand, and I need to stop acting like a ho and respect that .
Lusting after my boyfriend’s dad? What the hell am I thinking?
I love Rhys. What happened yesterday was inappropriate and absolutely can’t happen again.
Pink takes over my cheeks in a mixture of embarrassment and too much champagne. Putting my phone away without replying, I grab my water glass and gulp it down before pulling the Eggs Benedict closer and asking Nova to pass me the platter of roasted potatoes.
I have practice later. I’ll just work extra hard to work off the carbs.