Chapter 24
Trevor
“Trevor Laurence,” my mother squeals. “Oh, my lands. Why didn’t you call? I would’ve put on a roast.”
“That’s why I didn’t call. You need to take it easy, Mom. Stop waiting on everyone hand and foot.”
“Oh, hogwash. Taking care of the people I care about gives me purpose.” She pauses to look at the bags I’ve left by the front door. “Now, not that I’m complaining… but how long do you plan on staying with all of those?”
“As long as you need me. Noah said you had a procedure scheduled. I want to be here.”
“Trevor. It’s just a biopsy. You didn’t need to miss work for that.”
“Nonsense. You’re my priority. This is where I need to be.”
“But, honey. That test isn’t scheduled for another week. What about the station? Isn’t that putting out the boys, covering so many of your shifts?”
Honestly, I hadn’t considered this. I let my rage at seeing Addison hanging out with my ex and the jockhole cloud my judgment. I assume the Battalion Chief will bring in someone from another station for the short term. But there’s no other station nearby. They’d have to get someone from another town. Or, as my mother had supposed, my new friends were giving up their days off on my behalf. Shit. How hadn’t I considered this?
I’m not someone to shirk my responsibilities. I was already on edge with Noah’s call about Mom needing a biopsy and my finals. Picturing Addison with Ashley and her fucktard boyfriend just threw me into a tailspin. My firefighter brothers have become fast friends. I don’t want to leave. Hell, if I keep the cut-and-run routine going every time a girl gets the best of me, I’ll have to move to the west coast to find a job.
“Trevor? What’s this really about?” Leave it to Mom to zone right in on me.
“I’ve got a big final coming up, and coming home will allow me to be here for you and focus on getting my Master’s degree without distractions.”
“Would this distraction have big boobs?”
“Mom! What the hell?”
“What? Every girl you brought home until Ashley had them.” She shrugs. “Well, I’m glad you’re here. Whatever the reason,” she reassures me with a side hug. “I’ll just get Noah to bring some beer over here and pry it out of you the old-fashioned way,” she mumbles as she walks toward the kitchen.
* * *
“Man, she’s beautiful. Different than Ashley. Dark hair and blue eyes. She’s self-assured but doesn’t act like her shit don’t stink. And the sex… holy shit, man. I’ve never had sex like that be─”
“Okay, okay. I get it,” Noah says. I immediately notice him grimace and follow his line of sight to my mother, who’s shaking her head. Holy shit. How am I this predictable? Pour enough liquor down my gullet when I’m upset, and I spill everything. “So get to the part about why you’re here, and she’s there.”
I hesitate briefly, wondering if I want to divulge any more information to these two, and notice Noah waving another bottle at me. Flicking him my middle finger, I decide if I don’t come clean, I could probably suffer some serious damage to my liver. “Well, it appears she’s tight with Ashley. And Martin. I’m sure the three of them had a huge chuckle at my expense.” I attempt to take another sip from my beer and realize it’s empty. “I wonder if the whole thing was a setup.”
“Wait a minute. Your dimwitted ex-girlfriend happens to be friends with your new girl? What are the odds, Trevor? And there’s no way that was a setup. First, Ashley’s not clever enough to manage a rouse that complicated. And second, why would she? Nothing personal, man. But if she was that interested in you, she wouldn’t be with Martin.”
“Noah,” my mother scolds from the other room, confirming this charade for what it is. A pathetic six-pack shakedown.
“How did you piece all of this together, Sherlock?”
Grabbing my phone, I show him the picture I saved from the Times-Dispatch online post.
“Oh, I have that.” My mother is so close I can feel my hair move. Did she teleport in here? As I peer over my shoulder, a folded piece of newspaper is thrust into my face without warning.
“What’s this?”
“It’s Sunday’s paper. It was in there. Look,” she instructs, pointing to the photo.
“Holy shit, man. She’s hot. You nailed both of them?”
I turn just in time to see my mom clock Noah in the back of the head.
“Ow! Fuck, Mom.”
“Language, Noah.”
“So, is your girl a Hooter’s girl? Didn’t know a town as small as Sycamore would have a Hooters restaurant.”
“They don’t.” I inspect the photo a little closer and realize Addison is wearing some type of uniform. There are several other girls meandering behind her with similar skimpy outfits.
“Let me see that,” Noah stammers. “Good grief, you dumb fuck. She’s working there. She’s a Nascar girl.” He points to the two girls in a different photo leaning on a race car on either side of a dude with a dad bod. “Ow! Jesus, Mom!”
“Language, Noah. And stop calling your brother names.”
“All right. Shit, man─” I laugh as he covers his head and corrects himself. “I mean, shoot. I hope you can fix this.”
“There’s nothing to fix. She’s too good for me. If I can freak out and break up with her like that.” I hang my head in shame. “She deserves better than me.”
“You’re probably right,” Noah says just before my mother’s hand connects with the back of his head again. “Damn. Glad I wasn’t taking a sip of beer. I could’ve lost a tooth.”
“Trevor Laurence. You were only acting out of fear. Now, she deserves an apology and a hefty serving of groveling. But if she’s the one, get your act together and go get her back.”
“Are we even going to remember this conversation tomorrow?” I ask, looking at all of the empty beer bottles strewn about the coffee table.
“All bets are off for me,” Noah replies, rubbing his head. “I think I might have a concussion.”