Page 17 of Bad Habits
She pursed her frosty pink lips. “Now you know I was only teasin’ about that. I’d never do anything to hurt your daddy. Oh, I may fantasize about it from time to time…”
I had no doubt she did the way they went at it.
“But I’d never actually follow through. Anyhow back to your sister. You think Dade would go for her? Does he have a type?”
My sister was every man’s type and I was sure Dade would be no exception, but she was too good for a romp, even if Dade was a superstar in our circles. “I have no doubt he’d go for her, Mama. That’s why I want her to stay the hell away from him. He’d be tired of her inside a year, just like all the others, and you and I’d be left to pick up the pieces.” I shook my head firmly. “No way, not gonna happen.”
“But what if it didn’t turn out that way?” she asked, tossing the veggies in a glass bowl. “What if they’re perfect for each other?”
Mama watched too many Hallmark movies. “Perfect for each other?” I echoed. “Are you even listening to yourself right now? This is Dade Jarvis we’re talkin’ about, Mama. Dade Jarvis. Not some schmoo from Calvin’s Garage.”
“Hey, are you sayin’ he’s too good for my baby girl?”
No, in fact my sister was prettier and sweeter than any girl I’d ever seen Dade with, but that didn’t mean they were perfect for each other. “I didn’t say that. I just—”
“That’s like sayin’ Knox is too good for you.”
I knew we’d eventually circle back to Knox. Mama claimed she’d sensed something between us and I told her she needed glasses, hoping she’d let it go at that. But I should have known better. Mama doesn’t let things go. Ever.
“Knox and I are friends and co-workers. It’s different. We’ve known each other for years, and he wasn’t a big deal when we met.”
I thought back to the early days, when we celebrated every little victory together. Opening for a band we’d admired forever. Co-writing a song with one of his idols. Winning his first award. His first number one single. First platinum album. First sold-out stadium show. I’d been there for all of it, right by his side. I was the first person he’d tell, the one he’d pick up and twirl around, laughing uproariously while telling me he couldn’t believe all of his dreams were coming true.
Mama was staring at me, her eyes narrowed. “You’re sleepin’ with him, aren’t you?”
“What?” The heat was rising in my cheeks as I grabbed my glass of wine. “Who?”
“Knox, that’s who.” She waved the knife around in the air. “You’ve got that same look you had when you were sneaking around with that little weasel in high school, what was his name, Jordan, Jared…”
“James.” At least if we were talking about the past we weren’t talking about the present. I laughed. “God, you and Daddy hated him, remember?”
“I swear we thought you were gonna get knocked up your junior year, the way you and that boy were carryin’ on. You were always over at his house, and with both of his parents’ workin’ you never had any adult supervision. You don’t know how many times I had to hold your daddy back. He wanted to go over to that kid’s house and beat him to a pulp.”
We used to go at it like rabbits, but we were always careful. The last thing I wanted was an unplanned pregnancy to derail my plans to move to Nashville and pursue a music career after I graduated.
“Who?” Knox asked, walking through the back door just in time to hear the tail-end of our conversation.
“This kid Cece used to date in high school,” Mama supplied. “I was just tellin’ her we were afraid she was gonna get pregnant, the way she and that boy used to go at it. I knew he took her virginity and—”
“Mama!” I swear the woman had no filter. “Knox doesn’t need to be hearing about this.”
Knox chuckled, though his eyes darkened with an emotion I couldn’t read. “We must be talkin’ about James, the one who worked at the pizza place and had the garage band?”
Of course he’d remember the stories I told him about James. There was nothing Knox didn’t know about me, and if it was funny or embarrassing, he filed it away for future reference.
“Don’t say it,” I warned, walking toward him wielding a carrot stick.
Knox hated carrots with a passion.
“Say what?” he asked, eyeing the banned vegetable with a grin. “You don’t want your mama to know about the time—”
I tried to shove the carrot into his mouth but he grabbed my hands and secured them behind my back, which meant my breasts were pressed firmly against his chest while I giggled and struggled to break free.
He leaned in, whispering in my ear, “You better stop that or you’re gonna embarrass both of us.”
Shit. He was getting hard. I could feel it… and I liked it.
Mama was watching us with amusement, her eyes sparkling like she was in on our little secret. She wasn’t June-freakin’-Cleaver. She’d been around the block more than a time or two, and I had no doubt she knew what we were trying to hide, with my body still pressed firmly against Knox’s.
