It's Not You by Becca Seymour

Author:Becca Seymour [Seymour, Becca]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Rainbow Tree Publishing

Chapter Eleven

Billy

It was the following day that Lawrence handed me an opened envelope. I smiled, taking it off him despite his more somber expression. I was still in a euphoric haze of post-orgasmic bliss, my fourth in twenty-four hours, my happy glow surrounding me. But I knew what he was handing me was to do with that guy Mario who’d been here yesterday. So it was necessary to pull my head away from the thoughts of my mouth on Lawrence’s skin and give him the attention he deserved.

“This what he gave you yesterday?” I asked, wanting confirmation.

“Yeah. Ordered to hand-deliver it.”

My brows dipped low, his choice of words piquing my interest and sending a shot of uncertainty to my nerve endings.

Fragments of his past were all Lawrence had shared so far, and I was okay with that, certain he’d tell me what I needed to know or what he wanted me to. I assumed from the calligraphy script of his name on the front of the pristine white envelope, the doors were being thrown wide open.

A wedding invitation sat in my hands. It was fancy, the paper expensive. I recognized his sister’s name and saw she was marrying a guy called Harry Ludlow. The place for the parents’ names had just one—Melissa Crawford. The name didn’t mean anything to me beyond the shared last name with Lawrence.

“You knew your sister was getting married, right?” I asked, trying to recall one of our conversations about her over the past few weeks. “Didn’t you say she was young, twenty-one?” It seemed too young, but what did I know?

“Yeah,” he answered with a nod. “We don’t chat much, but regularly enough for me to know she was engaged. Harry seems nice, and she thankfully seems in love and happy.” A casual shrug followed.

“And that’s a surprise? Isn’t that usually the reason why people get married?”

The humorless laugh sounded hollow coming from Lawrence. He sat next to me with a heavy sigh, angling on the couch, his knee brushing my thigh. “I suppose I need to explain who my mom is.”

I bobbed my head and mirrored his position, facing him properly.

“Melissa Crawford, my mom, is the governor of Wisconsin.”

I appreciated his pause, needing the moment for his words to sink in. And while they did, nothing I knew made sense. Lawrence was the son of a governor, scraping by on a bartender’s wages, relying on tips, and enjoyed fucking parkour in his spare time.

With no idea how to respond or which of the many questions to ask first, I started with the simple direction, “Explain.”

“The condensed version okay? Not sure I have it in me to hash everything out right now.”

“Of course.”

“When I was seventeen, I was caught with Mario….” His nose crinkled, heat suffusing his cheeks before he clarified, “I was sucking him off.”

Already I had a fair idea that I wasn’t going to like this story, and with that information, I expected I’d be looking for a chance to punch Mario. I kept silent, focused and listening, giving Lawrence the room to speak without interruption.

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