Page 78 of Fierce Storm
I glance at Phil, hoping he’ll save me, but he simply shrugs, his eyes full of their own humor.
“I didn’t mean it like that, Mom. I just meant that my sleepover was purely platonic.”
As much as I wish that wasn’t the case.
“Okay. He’s a good guy, that one.”
“What? Who?” My stomach sinks and I frown to keep the fear out of my eyes.
“The man who took care of you. Most guys these days would try and take advantage.”
“Not this one.” He’s a true gentleman. Not that I say that aloud. The less I say on the topic the better. “So, now you know the why? Can you please lie for me?”
“Of course. A little white lie never hurt anyone, and you know I’d do anything for you. All you have to do is ask.” She smiles sweetly and I groan.
“Mom.”
“What?” She raises her hands in innocence and I roll my eyes, my gaze once again drifting to Phil for assistance. But he’s no use. He’s too busy staring at Mom like she hung the moon.
“Okay. Well, thanks. I’m going to go.”
“Have a nice day, sweetie.”
“You too.”
I spin on my toe and stalk toward the door, desperate to get home. But Mom has to have the last words.
“Oh, and Keeley?” she calls out as my hands wrap around the door handle, my eyes closing in resignation. This is not going to be good. “Say hi to Sal for me. We haven’t seen him for a couple of weeks.”
I wince internally, but on the outside I’m the picture of calm. “Will do. Bye.” I wave, refusing to look back, because while that could have been an innocent request, I’m not so sure it was. Especially after her questions about my “friend.” Mom’s always been observant. But I can’t for the life of me think of anythingSal and I have done to arouse suspicion. And yet Hayley hinted at the same.
Not thatanyonehas anything to be suspicious about. There’s nothing going on between us. At least there’s notnow.
With my phone pressed to my ear, I absentmindedly stare out my window as I return Callum’s call, brushing my fingers through my freshly washed hair.
“You’re alive,” he answers slowly, his usually gruff voice holding no hint of concern until he adds, “Are you okay?”
“Yes, why wouldn’t I be?”
“You called me three times.”
“What? When?”
“Your middle of the night.”
“Oh. Sorry about that. I was pretty drunk. I don’t remember calling you. Why didn’t you answer?”
“Because I was working. Different time zones, remember? I called when I got back to my car. Why didn’t you answermycalls?”
“I was sleeping. In another man’s bed.”
“Uh-huh.”
“And yes, it’s the man you’re thinking it is.”
“I wasn’t thinking of anyone, but now I know who. A part of me wants to say I told you so, but if he took advantage while you were drunk, I?—”
“He refused to sleep with me. At all. He wouldn’t even sleepnextto me. Despite me asking him to.” I hate that I can remember that. There may have even been begging.
