The Playing Game by Booth Ainsley

The Playing Game by Booth Ainsley

Author:Booth, Ainsley
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-03-09T00:00:00+00:00


CHAPTER 28

HARPER

For the second time in less than twenty-four hours, I wake up to the sound of a key turning in the deadbolt, and someone unexpectedly opening my apartment door.

Yesterday, it was Kiley waking me up from my nap with a concussed Kieran.

Today at—I grab my phone—seven in the morning, it’s not likely to be my best friend, and only two other people have a key.

Grant, who didn’t ask too many questions, but definitely got the gist of why I care so much about Kieran’s recovery when I was texting him last night.

And…my mother.

I shoot out of bed, grateful to be wearing clothes this time, and do an Olympics-worthy triple jump type of leap to my bedroom door just in time to see her quietly tiptoeing to my kitchen.

I pull the door shut firmly behind me. “Mama!”

She spins around, looking guilty. And a little…wired.

“What are you doing?” I flick my gaze to a familiar bakery bag in her hand.

“I’m just on my way home, and I didn’t want all of these treats, but it’s a better value to buy six, so I was just going to leave three of them for you.”

“Home from where?”

“School.” She laughs, her face softening with wonder. “Pulled an all-nighter working on a sculpture.”

Oh, I love that for her. I’d love it even more if I wasn’t hiding a secret hockey player in my bedroom right now. “That’s amazing. You must be tired and ready to head home.”

She wobbles her head back and forth. “Well…I did have quite a lot of coffee. So if you’re up…”

“I…” My cheeks heat up. “I’m not alone.”

“Oh!” Her eyes go wide. Her attention darts to my bedroom door, and I force myself not to look back. It’s still closed. I’d have heard it open. “Company!”

“Yep.”

“So I’ll go.”

“Please.”

“We’ll talk later?” She shoves the bakery bag onto the counter. “You can keep all of these. I already had the cruffin I wanted. And maybe your guest…”

I doubt he’ll eat anything in there, but I’m not explaining that right now. “Thanks.”

“I didn’t know you’d started seeing someone,” she says as I herd her towards the door. “Or is this a casual, one time only thing? What? I can’t ask that?”

I take a deep breath. This is an opening. I could take it.

But on the other side of my bedroom door is a man who held me like his life depended on it last night. Who wants to spend Christmas with me. And while there was a time when I thought the biggest barrier to our relationship was what my mother might think of him—nothing good, I’m sure—right now, all I can think about is, how will he feel if I tell my mother about him before I tell him about my father?

This conversation will have to wait. “He’s someone I like a lot. And it’s new and private for now.”

She blinks in surprise. I’ve told her about all of my crushes and dating ups and downs since I was eleven years old and almost kissed someone, but chickened out and burst into tears.



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