The Right One - Felice Stevens Page 0,30
Even Leo knew that.
Her phone rang. “Oh, it’s Morgan.” She swiped at the screen. “Honey, where are you?…Yes, I’m here. I decided to come and see you.…Yes, today. I’m at your building.” She darted a quick glance at Leo. “I’m in your friend Leo’s apartment. Ouch.” She held the phone away from her ear. “No, I’m not kidding you. I’m sitting on his couch, and we’re having a nice talk.”
Leo pressed his lips together. He could only imagine Morgan’s freak-out.
“When are you going to be here?…Oh, okay.…No, I’m not going to meet you outside. You can come and get me. See you in a few minutes.” The call ended. “He’s walking down the block and should be here soon. He couldn’t get service in the subway.”
Leo nodded.
She gathered herself and stood. “Thank you so much for keeping me out of the rain.”
He tipped his head. “It was no trouble at all. I’ll take you to the front so you can meet Morgan.”
He opened his front door and heard footsteps at the entrance to the building. He grinned to himself, knowing Morgan must’ve run like the hounds of hell were after him to get home as fast as he could. True to his thoughts, there he came skidding around the corner, hair damp, T-shirt wet, mouth gasping for breath. An image of a naked Morgan in his shower burned in his mind.
“Mom. Hi.”
“Morgan.” She hugged him, and Leo stood by and watched them greet each other like a normal parent and child. It brought into stark relief the great divide between himself and a guy like Morgan Cantrell. Grief descended over him, and he began to shake. Out of nowhere he was hit with a longing for his father so intense, it stabbed through him like a knife.
His hands balled into fists.
Over his mother’s head, Morgan’s eyes met his with curiosity. “Are you okay? Thanks for taking care of my mom. I’m sorry you had to bother.”
“I’m fine.” His response came out curt and snappish, but he wanted to be away from these people with their family hugs and memories. “It wasn’t a bother. Don’t worry about it. Good-bye, Becca.”
The day couldn’t get any weirder than him meeting Morgan’s mother.
“Thank you, Leo. I appreciate you babysitting me.”
Without a word, he walked away, but stopped when Morgan called his name.
“Leo, what time tonight? For the barbecue?”
Shit.
Oh, yeah. It was definitely going to get much weirder.
* * *
NINE
* * *
“Come on in.” Morgan led his mother into his apartment, acutely aware how different his lifestyle was now versus what he’d left behind.
“I like this even more this time than when your father and I first visited.” She set her bag on the narrow kitchen counter. “It’s just enough for one person. You’ve done a nice job with it.”
“That’s me now. Party of one.” He didn’t fool himself with his forced cheeriness, and from the dubious look she gave him, his mother didn’t believe him either. “I stepped in a puddle, so I need to get out of these wet sneakers. Make yourself at home. The coffee is in the cabinet over the stove if you want to make some.” He turned on the air conditioner.
“Don’t worry about me.”
Morgan left her puttering around and changed his wet socks and sneakers. When he emerged, the coffee was brewing, and a plate was heaped with his mother’s chocolate-chip butterscotch cookies. Despite his nerves, his stomach gurgled, loud enough for it to draw his mother’s attention away from his bookcase.
“I heard that. Did you have any lunch?”
“Yeah. I was at the farmer’s market in Union Square, thinking about getting some fresh produce. I’d just bought a baguette with cheese when it started to rain buckets. I ran for the train and ended up eating it on the way home.”
“You ate on the train?”
He rolled his eyes. “Okay, Mom. I’m thirty. I think I can handle my life choices.”
Maybe he shouldn’t have said anything, because she pounced. “If that’s true, then why won’t you tell us the real reason you and Jeffrey divorced? Is it because he cheated? You don’t have to feel bad. It wasn’t your fault. We know how you loved him. He’s the creep.”
If you only knew.
“No. He didn’t cheat.” It would’ve been easier if Jeffrey had an affair. As devastating as that would’ve been to deal with, at least Morgan wouldn’t have been subjected to the mind games Jeffrey played—one day the loving spouse, the next a man so filled with anger and rage,