Page 16 of Blurry Little Lines
Max
“Son.” My father approaches as I finish my last set of weights. “Your mother is in town this weekend and would like a day where the three of us can spend time together. She said you’ve been avoiding her calls.” I don’t know why he uses a parental tone when I practically raised myself, but he still does and I’m almost thirty-one.
“Why do we keep pretending to play happy house when I know you two hate each other?”
“We don’t hate each other, Max. I still find her extremely attractive.” His wink turns my stomach. “We bicker, but get along better separated. That is why it doesn’t stop us from getting together from time to time with the people from our gym.” The way my father speaks the last sentence confirms they still hook up. I also know how interactive he is with other members too. Being tunnel buddies with my father is not something I willeverdabble in.
“I have nothing to say to my mother.” I don’t. Not after she told me I took up too much of her time, ruined her body, and was the reason she can’t acceptably party the way she did before receiving the mother title.
It was a lot to take in at eight years old.
“Look, she flies back here twice a year.” My father attempts to get me to sympathize with her, though he barely stepped up to the plate when she moved south to Georgia after their split. “She loves you.”
“She loves to show me off to desperate socialites. You know I want nothing to do with that world.” Unless it’s hanging out with the Wheatons. Helen and George have always treated me as their own.
“Lucille and I are asking for one full day. We can do brunch, and I’ll get us tickets to the new Broadway show she has been wanting to see.”
“At this point, I’d rather be at some elite event instead.” I grab my water bottle and head out of the gym.
The streets are eerie today. The fog is laying on thick and the sun can’t find enough strength to burn through it. The normal bustling streets are a quieter hum and the tourists are minimal. I round the corner to the street of my condo and quicken my pace as I see flashing emergency lights. A paramedic wheels out a body bag as everyone stands in the street, waiting for answers. Today has thrown me off completely, and it’s not even lunchtime. But it could be worse. I glance at the body bag and make my way toward an officer.
With a large suitcase in tow, which I had to buy because I am not a fan of travel, I head along the velvet strip of carpet into The Wheaton’s Hotel. The young receptionist gives me a puzzled look as I walk up to her.
“Moving in?” she jokes, but my tired stare and half smile can’t mirror hers.
“Do you have anything available for the next two to three weeks?” I rest my arms across the cool, smooth counter.
“You want to stay here for that long?” She looks as if no one has ever been willing to pay that price for an extended amount of time. I’m a trust fund child as well, but don’t touch my account unless I really need to. “I can fit you in for six days, but then we are booked. It seems there’s an event going on here or something.”
“Bro, what the hell is going on?” Adam’s voice echoes through the lobby. “I never thought I’d see the day you willingly pack things into a suitcase, especially one that size.”
“The guy above me died while his bathtub was filling. I came back from the gym and there was some water damage throughout the building. Some of us are kicked out for a couple of weeks.”
“What the hell?” Adam’s eyes grow larger. “Dying in a tub sounds terrible.”
“Yeah, the cops said they aren’t releasing much detail right now.”
Adam glances at the receptionist. “You know not to charge him, right? He’s practically family.”
Her mouth parts with an unsure nod, but panic fills her eyes, knowing she can’t fully accommodate me.
“You guys are actually booked, so I’ll only be here for a week,” I inform Adam.
“That’s right. We have a stupid gala thing.” Adam shakes his head. “I haven’t told Lauren yet, but I’m flying her to New York City after her shift for her four days off.” He grins and pulls out his phone. “Stay at my place, or Kelsie’s. Hell, my parents have three extra bedrooms.”
“I don’t want to inconvenience anyone.” I look around the lobby and debate if I should just find another hotel. I could do four days at Adam’s, but there is no way I am staying there when they are home. He and Lauren fuck like rabbits on any given surface at any given time.
“I got you covered.” Adam looks up from his phone. “I told Kelsie you’re at my place for a few nights and she said she never uses her spare bedroom anyway. You’re already over there all the time, so it won’t make much of a difference.”
“I don’t want to bug her.” And I definitely won’t be able to beat off to her, knowing she’s that close. His phone dings.
“She said ‘cool, I’ll get a nightly dose of fitness now.’” He holds out his phone, showing me her text.
I inwardly groan. That spare bedroom with the weights and silky bed sheets distracts the fuck out of me every time she’s panting on the floor. This is a bad idea for my own self-control. I’m not one to go for a girl who is too shy to admit what she wants, but there is no doubt we have an attraction between us, and it’s growing by the day. Kelsie’s sly, innocent act has been driving me in-fucking-sane. Which is new to me when it comes to women. She’s still in a vulnerable state with her divorce and finding herself again, which probably makes my dirty thoughts about her a sin. I shouldn’t put my mind and body through that for a couple of weeks.
“Great.” What the hell am I doing to myself? “Tell her I said thanks.” For the sake of a lifetime of friendship, I hope we can remain distant and cope with our feelings.
“Shit, my meeting.” Adam glances at his watch and then over to the lounge bar. “Do you think you could tell the bar staff to send up a coffee with Bourbon if you have time?”