Page 18 of The Love Playbook

“Most of them,” I say, pretty sure Chris is the oldest.

“Wow.” A half laugh, half sob escapes her lips. “Your father barely even wanted one child when I was with him, let alone six.”

I absorb the dig, knowing my mother is likely unaware she basically just told me that my father didn’t want me. But that’s Mom, lost in her own world and oblivious to everyone and everything around her, unless it affects her.

“Hehada family. I just don’t understand,” she wails, her chin quivering. “Oh, god . . .” She presses a hand to her chest as if she fears it might stop, a shadow shifting through her dark eyes I recognize?it’s the same one I witnessed on the daily after their divorce.

My stomach tightens. I knew she wouldn’t take the news well, and for once in my life, I’d like her to prove me wrong. To be stronger. Be the rock I need. “Mom, can we not do this?”

Her throat bobs as she wipes her eyes with the back of her hands.

“Please?” I plead. “It’s my birthday.”

“You told me my husband and the father of my child has a new family, and you want me to stop? To just . . . turn it off?” she says, her voice thick.

Yeah, Mom. For once, I want to just be your daughter.

I glance away from her, staring out the kitchen window.

“I’m sorry.” Mom covers her face with her hands for a moment before she straightens. “You’re right. I’ll be fine. I just need a minute to process.” She pushes away from the table, a wobbly smile spreading her lips. “I’m just going to lie down for a bit. When I get up, I’ll be good as new. Then I’ll help you cook.”

With that, she turns and hurries out of the room, leaving me alone with the dishes and the remnants of my muffin.

And that’s when I know how I’ll be spending my birthday.

Alone.

Because the mother I know?the one I’ve come to expect?is back.

Chapter 6

CHRIS

I toss the football in the air from my spot on the couch where I’m currently sprawled out on my back. “You should’ve seen her. I swear I saw steam coming from her nostrils. It was so fucking hot. Do you know how awkward it is getting that turned on in front of your mother?”

Jace just looks at me. “My parents are assholes, remember?”

“Oh, shit.” I hold the football, twisting toward him. “I forgot. Do you wanna talk about it? Maybe we can share feelings, have a little therapy sesh?”

“Shut the fuck up.” Jace chucks an empty beer can at me. “And only you would get turned on by that when she clearly hates your guts.”

I toss the ball in the air again and groan at the twinge of pain in my shoulders. After a brutal game yesterday where we lost to Alabama, Coach called an impromptu practice sessionthis morning and proceeded to kick our asses, which explains why we’re now sprawled out on the couch in our living room drinking beer, nursing our sore muscles, and watching the Dallas Cowboys beat the New York Giants.

“Says the man who’s madly in love with the chick who hated him little more than a year ago,” I say with an eye roll.

“That’s different. We had history. Her hate was merely a cover for burning desire.”

I snort. “Right. Was it her ‘burning desire’ when you fought her for a cupcake and wound up pinning her to the kitchen floor and licking frosting off her thigh?”

Jace scowls. “That shit is sensitive information.”

“I’ll be sure to ask Brynn about it when she comes over tonight with my cupcakes.” I smirk.

“Dickhead,” Jace grumbles. “So is your mom upset Charlotte told them she won’t support the wedding?”

“Hell yeah, she’s upset. I haven’t seen her do anything for herself in all my years on this earth, and the first time she puts herself first and tries to choose happiness, Charlotte strikes her down like a fucking bolt of lightning.”

Jace glances over at me, a beer halfway to his lips. “Is it weird since you have a thing for Charlotte?” He winces. “Her mother and your father?”