Page 17 of Fall For Me
I was being a dick about your music, but we put on that show for your mom.
The memory slips in before I can stop it.
“Your taste in music is shit,” Sean complains, leaning against his truck, arms crossed, acting like he was forced to bring me here even though the trip was entirely his idea.
My mom’s playlist is set on shuffle and flows quietly through my phone’s speaker as I stare up into the night sky.
“You’ve never complained before.”
“You’ve never had terrible taste until now.”
“Whitney Houston, Tina Turner, Cyndi Lauper, Madonna.” I look over at him and smile. “I’ll take them any day. Listening to them makes me feel close to my mom.”
As I say the words, a cool wind picks up and whips through my hair. Some part of me might even believe it’s her saying, “Hello.” I was nine years old when cancer ripped her away from us. Seventeen years later, and I still remember her clearly. She was so full of joy. When I close my eyes and concentrate hard, I can almost remember the sound of her voice or her melodic laugh.
There’s no light pollution out here. Every star is sparkling in the night sky, and as I look up at the beauty of it, I wonder if there really is a heaven. I’d like to believe there is, that one day I’ll see her again.
“Do you think she’s up there watching?” I whisper more to myself, but when he doesn’t answer, I glance over at him.
That scowl he always wears softens, and he shifts, grabbing both my hands and pulling me away from the truck.
“Come on. Let’s give her a show,” he says, twirling me.
On an old dark winding road, with Mom’s playlist flowing through the speaker, he danced with me. When I wanted to feel close to my mom, he held me close to him.
My phone vibrates in my hand, and I glance back down at his messages.
Sean
Hold onto that memory when you’re mad at me. K?
Confused and against my better judgment, I click Sean’s pictureand tap the call icon. After a couple of rings, his sexy as sin voice answers the phone.
“Hello, Rebel.”
Closing my eyes, I inhale a deep breath and force all of those little tingles to leave my body.
“Sean, just what the hell did you mean by that message?”
He doesn’t explain immediately, and something tells me I’m going to be thoroughly pissed by his answer.
Rustling.
Crackles.
He’s definitely covering the receiver. What the hell? I’m not hanging around for this crap. Right before I hang up, I hear Aiden’s muffled voice yell, “You drugged me!”
“I didn’t drug you; I medicated you,” Sean argues in a bored tone.
“What did you put in my coffee?”
“It’s called Milk of Magnesia. You said you were having trouble moving things along.”
“I wasn’t fucking talking about that, and you know it!”
I grip my phone so tight, I’m surprised it doesn’t break. This asshole ruined my trip. I’m gonna kill him. I’m gonna fucking kill him. Hanging up, I dial Aiden and put the call on speaker.
“He’s the devil, Han. The fucking devil! I have to go. I’ll call you later,” he groans before three beeps indicate he’s hung up.
