Chapter 27: Twenty-six

Confession #25: Hey, I had to make sure he wasn’t going to hurt Reese!

Riker didn’t realize I was following him until it was too late. Glancing around when he heard me approaching fast, his eyes went wide a split second before I grabbed a handful of the back of his shirt and propelled him forward—a lot more roughly than I had Reese—into the men’s bathroom.

“What the fuck?” he started, scowling and shoving away from me as soon as I let go of him.

I glanced around to make sure we were alone before I shoved him into the wall. I had let him shove me around plenty when we’d been at the Country Club and I couldn’t shove back without risking my job. So I figured I owed him a couple.

“Just so we’re clear,” I growled into his face, “I never fucked your mother. ~Ever~.”

“Get off me,” he spat, trying to push free, but I was having none of it.

“Not until you listen to me, asshole. She calls me, ~yes~. She asks me to meet her places.”

When his face went pale and he turned away to block me out, I shoved him again, just to get his attention. As soon as he snapped a glare back to me, I added, “And then all she does is talk. Just…talk. Nothing else.” I paused before shrugging. “Well, sometimes she wants a hug.”

He opened his mouth, his face flooding with color, so I pointed at him, quickly explaining, “And when I say hug, I don’t mean some dirty euphemism. I mean a simple, plain, old-fashioned hug.”

Riker scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Whatever. You expect me to believe that bullshit? I ~know~ what you are.”

My eyebrows lifted. “Oh, do you? Do you really? Because you obviously don’t even know your own ~mother~. Think about it, brainiac. Do you honestly believe ~she’s~ the type of woman to pay some kid her ~son’s~ age to have sex with her?”

His face went even redder than it already was. Gritting his teeth, he muttered, “Why would she pick ~you~, though, if talking and hugging was all she was doing? If she wanted to just ~talk~ to someone, she has a million friends she could—”

“Oh, you mean, like ~Darlene~?” I cut in, scoffing. “The one who went to your dad and told him everything your mom used to confide to her? Yeah, great friend that one was. Or Georgina, who your dad told your mom she shouldn’t be friends with anymore? Or Paula, who ~fucked~ your dad behind your mom’s back?”

Ethan’s mouth fell open. “Paula didn’t…~wait~! How do you even know those names?”

“Because Amanda told me. She tells me all kinds of shit I never want to hear. But apparently ~I’m~ the only person she feels she can confide in, so…” I spread my arms and sniffed bitterly. “Lucky me.”

“Wha…?” Ethan shook his head, at a loss for words. Then he frowned. “But… Why ~you~?” he repeated, beginning to believe me about my relationship with his mom, yet still stumped about the rest.

But I was just as baffled as he was.

With a shrug, I answered as best I could. “I’m not exactly sure. I think she contacted me the first time because… You know… She’d heard the same rumors about me that you had.”

Snorting, Ethan rolled his eyes.

I kept talking. “But then once we actually met, she started talking, like that really fast monologue she gets when she’s nervous.”

He narrowed his eyes and flashed his teeth at me. “It’s not even right that you know about her nervous chatter.”

“And when I actually listened,” I went on, ignoring him, “I guess she…I don’t know…thought I was a good person to talk to from that point on. Fuck, I’m not sure. I just know I wouldn’t have to do any of that if ~you~ did it instead.”

Riker’s frown deepened. “Excuse me?”

“I’m not her son. ~You~ are. So step up and do your job already, so I don’t have to.”

“What the hell does ~that~ mean?”

“It means, you idiot, that she’d rather do all this shit with ~you~. Not me. She doesn’t really want to hug ~me~. But she settles for me, because when was the last time ~you~ hugged her?” When he just frowned, I shook my head. “When was the last time you had a true legitimate conversation with your mother and ~listened~ to her instead of talked ~at~ her?”

“I talk to her every damn day,” he cried.

“Talking that didn’t involve you asking her to wash your pants or lecturing her about how much wine she drinks.”

He opened his mouth, only to close it and glare at me.

“That’s what I thought. Start treating her like someone you actually care about, and she’ll forget ~I~ even exist. Hell, she’d probably never hurt herself again. She just wants attention. ~Your~ attention.”

“But I don’t—” He cut himself off abruptly before flushing and sending me a dirty look as if I’d caused his problems. Then he mumbled, “I don’t know what to say to her.”

~Oh, Jesus~.

“You don’t have to say anything. Honestly, she likes it better when I just shut up and listen. The woman wants to be understood and accepted for what she is. It’s honestly as simple as that.”

He seemed to contemplate my suggestion, his gaze distant but pensive.

“Now, are you at least starting to believe I’ve never had sex with her?” I asked.

He lifted one shoulder, not meeting my gaze. “I guess.”

“Good.” I shoved him right back into the wall. “Now about Reese.”

His eyes widened as they flew up to meet mine. “What about her?”

“Are you sniffing around her just because of me?”

His expression filled with shocked disgust before he screeched, “~What~? No! I don’t even know what the fuck that means?”

I narrowed my eyes. “You threatened me last night. You told me you were going to hit me where it hurt the most.”

“Yeah, but that would only work if you…” He started to snort and look away only to pause and swerve his gaze back to me, his eyes widening with realization. “Holy shit, you’re into Reese.”

Wow. I honestly thought he would be brighter than this. The good news, though, was that he hadn’t targeted her to hurt me; he just genuinely liked her.

“Of course I’m into Reese,” I snapped. “You ~knew~ I was into Reese. You didn’t seem surprised at all when you moseyed up to our lunch table and gave us both a cheerful little hello.”

“But I thought you two were just friends. She said you were only friends.”

“Hell, yes, we’re friends. That’s all we ~can~ be.”

He studied me for a moment, and I must’ve given way too much away in my expression because I could tell he saw more than he should’ve. “You really do like her,” he murmured as if fascinated by that fact. “And yet ~I’m~ the one she agreed to go out with.”

Bitterness swelled in my stomach like acid.

“Just don’t treat her like you do your mother,” I warned, pointing a finger at his nose. “Actually ~listen~ to her when she talks. It shouldn’t be hard; she’s pretty damn amusing.”

Riker nodded vaguely as if still trying to process everything. Then he lifted his gaze, his expression seeking and earnest. “Okay,” he said. “Anything else?”

Yeah, I wanted to answer, ~don’t kiss her. Don’t touch her. Don’t even get too close to smell her. And whatever you do, ~don’t~ listen to her laugh~. Her laughter was mine.

But what I said was, “Don’t hurt her, or I’ll fuck you up.”