Where It Begins by Helena Hunting

Author:Helena Hunting [Hunting, Helena]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Evil Eye Concepts, Incorporated

CHAPTER ELEVEN

I SHOULD HAVE KNOWN BETTER

Violet

We’ve all had a moment where we realize half a second too late that we’ve walked in on something we can’t unknow or unsee. I don’t know why I automatically jump to the conclusion that the truck in the driveway belongs to my next-door neighbor's adult son. Maybe because once my mom let him park his truck in our driveway so he wouldn’t get a ticket for parking in the overnight lot without a permit? But whatever the reason, I also miss the pair of men’s shoes at the front door. Obviously, there’s somebody else in this house and it’s likely not the next-door neighbor's son. Or if it is the next-door neighbor’s son, my mom’s MILF status has gone through the roof.

I’m already up the stairs, standing outside my mother’s bedroom door. Which is ajar. Not by a couple of inches, either. And in that space is a very bare man-ass and a bunch of intertwined limbs I don’t want to examine too closely.

It’s when I see the bare ass, that I finally connect the dots. My mom must have texted me seven-hundred and fifty times, give or take 100 either way, asking what time she thought I should pick her up this morning. I kept saying noon on the off chance I’d be able to sleep in at a friend’s house, which honestly never happens. And Sasha has a younger brother who is as quiet as a train in the morning, so sleeping in was already a pipe dream.

Logic implies the truck parked in the driveway belongs to the guy my mom has been dating for the last two months. And that means that she, too, had a sleepover. Hers was just a lot more exciting than mine.

“Oh, my God! Why the hell is the goddamn door open?” The question is pointless and redundant. I already know the answer.

My mom did not expect me home at 8:30 in the morning. In fact, she didn’t expect to pick me up for at least another 3 1/2 hours and she sure as hell didn’t expect me not to text before I got a ride home. So, while redundant, the question still feels valid. Because when you have a teenage daughter, learn to expect the unexpected. And that includes my being dropped off several hours early.

“I thought I was picking you up at noon!” mom shouts as I spin around and head for my room.

Half of me wants to walk right back out the front door, but I don’t have anywhere to go. There are coffee shops close by, but I’m exhausted from my shitty night’s sleep and all I want is a greasy breakfast and a nap. Except now I have man-ass burned behind my eyelids forever.

I close my bedroom door, flop down on the mattress, and pull a pillow over my head. Mom must be serious about this guy if he spent the night. So I probably need to get over seeing his ass.

A few minutes later, footsteps pass my room, one light and one heavier.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.