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Yeah, me too, Mom.

“Great. Make a reservation at that cute Italian place for us, will you?”

“Yeah, sure.” I wince, my back cracking when I stretch again. This fucking couch.

“Everything okay?” she enquires, not missing a beat.

“Yeah. Just not sleeping well.”

“Hmm. You sound preoccupied.”

“I’m fine. Just got a lot on my mind, that’s all.”

“In the offseason?”

“Yeah.”

“Jensen. Don’t bullshit a bullshitter.”

I bark out a laugh. “Mom!” Leaning back, I look down the hallway and wince. She’s already about to kill me for moving in, never mind waking her, too.

“Are you seeing someone?”

“How in the hell did you guess that?”

“So you are?”

“No.” Un-fucking-fortunately.“What have I said or done in the last sixty seconds that’s brought you to that conclusion?”

“You’re tired. You don’t sound like you’re at home since your voice is echoing, and your bedroom doesn’t echo. And you’re clearly trying not to wake someone.”

Fuck me, she’s good.

“I’m staying at a friend’s place.”

“Friend being a girl?” Her voice raises with undeniable excitement.

“It’s a girl, yeah, but she isn’t my girlfriend.”

“Do you want her to be?”

“Why are you talking to me like I’m sixteen?”

“Because you’re hiding things like a teenager.”

I groan. “I’ll fill you in on Friday.”

“Why not now?”

“Because she’s down the other end of the hallway!”

“Ah-hah! Wait, you aren’t in bed together?”

“Yeah, this is my cue to end the call. Bye, Mom, see you on Friday!”

“Hang on a min?—”

I throw my phone down on the comforter in front of me.