Page 42 of The Love Playbook

“Never say never.” His blue eyes twinkle as he focuses back on the road, and I wonder if he gets off on annoying me.

“I’m pretty confident in saying never,” I grumble.

“You know what your problem is?”

“Please, do tell me,” I say, biting the inside of my cheek.

“You just need areallygood?”

“Go there, and you’ll have one less nut.”

“What?” Chris mock-gasps, feigning offense. “Lettie, what did you think I was going to say? I was going to say you need a really goodmassage. I mean, massage therapy can work wonders, especially in releasing all that pent-up tension. You’re always so stiff.”

“Maybe it’s you that just makes me uptight.”

He cocks his head, a grin curving his lips. “I like to think of it as making you nervous.”

I grind my teeth, my hands fisting in my lap. “Are you trying to get under my skin on purpose?”

“Are you admitting I’m under your skin?”

I groan and rest my head against the glass pane of the passenger-side window. “It’s like talking to a child,” I mumble.

“Kids are fucking hilarious, so I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Silence,” I say, closing my eyes and bringing my fingers to my temples. “Just two minutes of silence. That’s all I want.”

Because my head is already pounding, and I know the second I get to my mother’s and step inside, I’ll have a jackhammer in my brain.

Miraculously, Chris shuts up, but it does little to ease my nerves because a couple of minutes later, he’s pulling up to my mother’s house, and my blood pressure instantly skyrockets.

“So, this is it, huh? The house you grew up in?” Chris peers out the window, and I know what he’s thinking; it’s smaller and less lavish than my father’s place by a lot. At one time, it was a beautiful starter home with its pale blue exterior and charcoal accents. However, it’s seen better days. The siding is in desperate need of a power wash and the front porch needs staining. The landscaping is full of weeds and overgrown, whileleaves cover every square inch of the yard, unlike my father’s place with his perfectly manicured lawn and his professionally groomed landscaping.

I straighten in my seat and unbuckle my seatbelt. Turning to him, I don’t even bother answering his question as I say, “You’re staying here, remember?”

“Keep my ass in my seat. Got it.” He smirks.

“I’m serious. If I see you step through that door, I will literally tear your balls off and eat them for dinner.”

“Oooh, kinky.” He wiggles his brow. “I’m starting to think you have an obsession with my balls, and I’m okay with it.”

I sigh, muttering an obscenity under my breath before I swing open my door and step outside. The cool air wraps around me, stealing my breath as I make my way down the sidewalk toward the porch. Using my key, I unlock the front door and enter, locking it behind me just in case.

Dealing with my mother is hard enough without having Chris nipping at my heels with his endless commentary and invasive questions.

The living room is empty, so I pass through it, calling out for my mother as I go. “Mom, it’s Charlotte!”

I skirt past the kitchen, catching the sound of a television coming from the second floor and take the stairs. Following the noise, I pass my old bedroom and the spare before I get to the master and pause.

With a small knock on the door, I push it open to find my mother lying on her bed, wide awake, her glazed eyes open and trained on the television.

“Mom?”

She turns toward me, blinking like she hadn’t heard me enter. “Charlotte?” She pushes herself up in bed, raking a hand through her ratty brown hair that looks like it hasn’t seen abrush in days. “I didn’t know you were stopping by. What are you doing here?”

Her cotton pajamas hang on her thin frame, and as I step closer, I note the dark circles beneath her eyes, and the pile of food wrappers on the nightstand beside her bed. There are so many, I can even make out her alarm clock beneath the trash.

“You would know what I’m doing here had you answered my calls,” I say, unable to keep the anger from my voice.