Page 94 of Vegas Heat: The Expansion Team Complete Series

I detour toward Mia’s on my way back home, in part because I don’t really want to face my mother right now and in part because I haven’t spoken to her in weeks.

Dylan’s there, too, but when he heads toward the bathroom, I strike up a conversation with my best friend as I unload how I’m feeling about continuing to keep Cooper a secret from my dad.

“It’s eating away at you, girl. Just tell him already.” Mia glances over at Dylan as he walks back into the room, his time away woefully too short, and I get the distinct feeling that if I wasn’t here, they’d be naked on the couch where I’m sitting.

I suddenly feel like a third wheel. I came by to visit my best friend, but Dylan was already here, so it’s not like we’ve had the chance to have our girls-only chat.

“Where’s Chelsea?” I ask, changing the subject since Mia just doesn’t seem to get it. I want to tell him, but I’ve already felt plenty rejected by him once in my life. What if he pushes me away again?

I think about mentioning that to Mia to get her take on it, but with Dylan here…I guess I’m just not comfortable bringing it up.

“Didn’t you hear? She’s dating Greg!” Mia says.

My brows knit together. “Greg Hansen ?”

Mia and Dylan both nod at the same time.

“He found his girl-gamer?” I ask.

They both laugh. “Turns out Chelsea has a secret Minecraft thing. They’re all into freaky shit with their games. They do naked competitions, and he even got her a gaming chair that fits right next to his in his room,” Mia says.

I whistle. “Just goes to show you there’s a match for everybody out there, right? Some people get lucky and find them at the right time.”

“So is Cooper your match?” Mia presses, snuggling closer into Dylan as if to tell me not in so many words that Dylan is hers.

I nod. “I know the season will change the dynamic, but yeah. He’s definitely my other half.”

“But he’s so…” Mia trails off.

“Hot?” I fill in.

She nods, conceding, but she adds, “Old.”

“He’s not old . He’s thirty-three.” My tone is far more defensive that I mean for it to be, but thirty-three isn’t old.

“Exactly. He’s three years away from retirement, and you haven’t even graduated college. Don’t you think that difference will cause problems?” Mia asks.

I know she’s just trying to be a good friend, but this is all the same shit we’ve been over a million times, and frankly, I’m tired of defending it. “No, I don’t.”

She presses her lips together and nods. “Okay. I hope you really, really believe that and you’re ready to defend it to the media since you know that’s what’s coming.”

Maybe she’s right, but I can’t take it anymore. I’m sure it’ll be far worse when it’s not my best friend asking once the media gets wind of it, but she’s supposed to be my best friend .

She’s so busy being wrapped up in Dylan that she hasn’t been much of a friend at all to me lately.

“I don’t need to defend it to anyone,” I snarl, standing up. “You’re supposed to be my friend, and instead all you’ve done lately is pick at my relationship. You’re looking for holes rather than standing by me. And frankly, I’m sick of it.”

With those words, I whirl around and storm out of her apartment. I practically run to my car, and I slide into the driver’s seat upset and angry as I head toward home.

It’s not any better once I arrive.

“Where were you all night?” my mother demands the moment I walk in through the front door, as if she sat up waiting for me to come home.

“Out,” I answer flippantly, a large part of me regretting leaving Cooper’s house as early as I did. He and my dad are meeting for brunch in a bit, though, so I had to leave.

She stands from her spot on the couch and folds her arms across her chest. I walk past her and into the kitchen.

“You kept me up all night with worry!”

I blow out a breath as I reach into the pantry for a box of Honey Nut Cheerios. “I’m twenty-one years old, Mother, and I live in a different state than you. I no longer have to answer to you.”

“I’m your mother and you will always have to answer to me, darling.” Her words are riddled with impatience, as if I’m the problem here.

“I guess we’ll have to agree to disagree on that front.” I hold up the box as if to offer to make her a bowl, too, and she shakes her head.

“That stuff is full of sugar,” she scolds, and I remember how we never had any good cereal in the house growing up. My options were usually either dry wheat cereal or plain yogurt, neither of which appealed to me.

I want to ask how long she’ll be hanging around, but I hold myself back. Barely. “Is Dad home?” I ask instead.

She shakes her head. “You two left me all alone in this big old house all night,” she whines.

“I hadn’t realized you came here so we could entertain you,” I say dryly as I reach into the fridge for the milk. “I hate to be the one to break this to you, but we both have lives here in Vegas that don’t revolve around you.” I mentally pat myself on the back for standing up to her, but she isn’t having it today.

“How dare you?” she asks. “I came to visit you and you can’t be bothered to spend any time with me at all!” She’s immediately on the defensive again, never a good place for her to be. That’s when she strikes out.

That’s when things turn nasty.

I slide into my usual chair at the table and shovel a huge spoonful of cereal into my mouth.

She narrows her eyes at me. “Were you at Cooper’s house?”

The question takes me so off guard that I choke on a Cheerio. I grab a bottle of water from the fridge to clear it out, and by the time I’ve chugged half of it down, she’s pursing her lips and shaking her head.

“I knew it. I knew there was something going on between the two of you. And your father doesn’t know, does he?” She looks up at the ceiling with a menacing laugh. “God, men are so stupid. Even that Cooper guy, to act around you the way he does, all protective, and your father is so blind to all of it. You’re hiding it from him, but why?” She taps her chin, and the horror that planted in my stomach last night at the thought that she might try to come between Cooper and me seems to blossom in my chest.

Her being here is only going to drive us closer together.

I repeat the mantra in my head.

But what if she spills it to my dad?

“Let’s see, why wouldn’t you want Troy to find out about you two?” She stands and paces around the kitchen a little as that horror in my chest continues to bloom. “Could it be because you’re so much younger than him?” She shrugs as she contemplates that thought. “Or is it because Troy is close with Cooper? Hmm…” She trails off as she thinks that one over, too. “Or maybe it’s because daddy’s little girl doesn’t want to disappoint him with her terrible taste in men.” She cackles with delight at her suggestion.

“Before you take your little fictional story any further, I should jump in to tell you I was at Mia’s place,” I lie, pouring weedkiller all over that blooming horror to cut it off at the source.

I mean…technically, I did stop by there. It’s not a lie.

The only problem is that I know my mother, and once she thinks she’s onto something, she will continue to pick and gnaw at it until she proves it to be true. More than once I could have sworn she manifested something out of thin air just because she believed so heartily in it.

“Oh, Mia. How’s she doing? I always thought she’d be so pretty if she just cut and colored her hair.” She tsks as if that’s a bad thing, as if one’s entire worth depends on how attractive my mother finds their hair.

“She and her hair are doing great, and she’s gorgeous and perfect just the way she is.”

She misses my tone, but that’s pretty standard. She’s too lost in her own little world to get it.

“That’s nice,” she says, offering a fake smile. “So tell me more about this internship.”

My first thought is that it’ll be nice to talk about something other than where she thinks I was last night, regardless of whether she’s right or not. But then I realize she’s asking for one of two reasons. Either she wants to get some intel on my father and his fiancée, or she’s trying to find some nugget of information to prove Cooper and I are an item.

I steer clear of those topics. “It’s a general internship with the stadium, so I along with six other interns have had opportunities to work in several different departments. Because of my major, mainly I’ve been working with business and marketing. We’re currently competing in a marketing challenge, and the top two winners have a shot at interviewing for an open full-time position.”

I keep it generic, and I leave out the parts about me shadowing Cooper.

And the stadium shenanigans. Those I definitely leave out.

“And how much time do you spend with Cooper there?” she demands.

I shrug. “Not that much. He’s sponsoring a kids’ play structure, and part of my internship has been working on that with him. That’s about it.”

She narrows her eyes at me as if she doesn’t believe me. “And this woman your father has decided to marry? What do we know about her?”

“Mom, if you want details on her, you should ask him. I’m not playing this game.” I shove my cereal into my mouth, trying to finish as quickly as possible to get myself out of this situation.

She gives me a look that clearly tells me she’s hurt by what I’m implying, but I’m beyond the point of caring. I stand and head toward the sink to rinse my dish, and she sighs rather dramatically.

“What are we going to do today?” she asks.

I lift a shoulder. “We aren’t doing anything. I have a paper due tomorrow that I haven’t started, so I am going to head to campus to work at the library.”

She purses her lips again. “You haven’t started yet? Same old Gabby.”

I spin around to face her. “Same old Gabby?” I practically screech. “Mother, I was salutatorian and you made me feel like I wasn’t good enough because I wasn’t number one. My entire life you’ve made me feel like a failure, and I will not let you come into this house, into a place that has very much become a sanctuary for me, and ruin this for me. I’m an adult. I’m earning straight As while I’m working hard to line up a job I deserve after graduation. And instead of being proud of me, you’re accusing me of things that aren’t true. You’re making me feel like I’m not good enough just like you’ve always done.”

She looks shocked by my words, as if this comes as some huge surprise to her that I feel this way.

And maybe it does. Maybe I’ve never voiced those things because I was raised to respect my elders. And I do treat my elders with respect, but I draw the line at being insulted by my own mother. I’ve grown a backbone since I’ve been here in Vegas.

She sniffs and juts her chin up. “Well, I’m sorry I’ve been such a terrible mother to you.”

I grit my teeth and sigh at her sarcasm. She just doesn’t get it, but that’s the problem with selfish people, isn’t it? They never see beyond their own egos. I guess I forgot what it was like since I moved away. I’ve seen her less than a handful of times in three years, and it’s been months since we’ve spoken.

There was a reason for all that, but she’ll never see that it was because of the way she treats me.

And yet…here I am, successful and independent, feeling like a failure after my mother’s been in town all of half a day. The old familiar feelings of rejection and abandonment are creeping back in on me as the quiet little voices start to speak up again. I don’t deserve Cooper. My father never wanted me and he just puts up with me now because he has to. I need to be perfect, to do better, because one mistake will prove to everybody that I’m not good enough.

And it’s with those voices in mind that I walk out the front door and head to the university library, where I work my tail off to write the best goddamn paper I’ve ever written.

It’s where I spend extra time researching some of the marketing tactics Joanie shared with me.

It’s where I stay far too late because maybe she’s right—the same old Gabby just isn’t working hard enough.

And it’s where I am when the text from Cooper comes through.

Captain : Hope you’re having a good day. I miss you.

And then, because I’ve been lost in work and haven’t been watching the clock, hunger plows into me. I stand to stretch, and all the blood rushes to my head.

I don’t even realize I’ve passed out until someone starts shaking me awake.