Texting With the Enemy (Digital Dating #1) - Marika Ray Page 0,47

the buttons on the side and finally got the leg rest to come up. “Pam called me. We’re besties now, by the way. Boston is an absolute bear, apparently. Pam got the whole story out of him, right before she boxed his ears for being a dimwit and made him late for work.”

My heart ached just hearing his name. I hated to hear he was suffering, even though he deserved it. “Again, I ask. What are you doing here?”

Mom scoffed. “I’m here to offer you my shoulder to cry on, of course. Or, if your date with Chad went well, we can party!”

“Date with Chad?” Ashley piped up, crossing her arms over her chest like she was hurt at my omission. “You didn’t tell me that part.”

I rolled my eyes and plopped down on the couch. “I just didn’t get to it yet.”

Ashley leaned over and sniffed my arm. “Why do you smell like hotdogs?”

My eyes went wide as I sniffed myself. “Oh no, it’s coming through my pores now.” When they both frowned at me like I’d lost my mind, I explained. “When I ran out of the restaurant, I ran into Chad. We ended up going to an all-you-can eat hotdog place.”

“Say what? All-you-can-eat dogs?” Mom started mashing the buttons again.

“Mom! I thought you were here to console me, not run off to get a hotdog.” I glared at her and she quit trying to escape my Barcalounger.

She hooked her thumb over her shoulder. “I’m sure I could get my buddy Sam back and he can take us all for lunch. You know. To get your mind off things.”

I sighed. This wasn’t helping my headache. Or my heartache. “It’s not even nine in the morning, Mom.”

“Hotdog brunch?”

I laid down on the couch, curling up on myself and resting my head in Ashley’s lap. “You deal with her.”

“Can we get back to the Chad date please?” Ashley asked, sounding about as low on patience as me.

“Yeah, did you flash him some cleavage?” Mom interjected.

I squeezed my eyes shut. This was like being stuck at a bad comedy show. And how pathetic was I? All I wanted to do was text Chad, or Boston rather. He’d say something funny and then tell me I was pretty. Who do you go to for cheering up when the person who always cheered you up was the one who made you sad in the first place?

I sighed. “Let it go, Ash. That boy is so funny my abs are sore, but he is not boyfriend material. At least not for me. If anything, last night was a reminder that I only want Boston. Minus the lying, of course.”

Ashley stroked my hair, and the sweet gesture just made my eyes burn with tears. “I think maybe you don’t want to hear this right now, but maybe you just need some time. Maybe you have it in you to forgive him.”

A tear rolled out my eye, down my cheek, and soaked into Ashley’s jeans. Part of me wanted nothing more than to forgive Boston and carry on dating him without a care in the world. Just sweep this little incident under the rug. But an even bigger part of me knew I couldn’t forgive and forget. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

“Did I tell you about the time your father came around when you were about two?” Mom said into the sad silence.

I grimaced and sat up, sharing a confused look with Ashley. “No. No, you didn’t. I thought he abandoned us?”

Mom shrugged like she hadn’t just let out a deep, dark secret. “Well, he did. He left when I was pregnant with you. As you know, we got married when I found out I was pregnant. He started acting funny when I started showing. By the time I was nine months along and couldn’t tie my own shoes, he up and left, saying he wasn’t ready to be a father and a husband.”

When she stopped, I prompted her to keep going. “Yeah, I know that part of the story. What about him coming back when I was two?”

Mom started patting her pockets, and there were many. “Did I bring my smokes? Anybody know where I put ‘em?”

“Mom!” Ashley and I both yelled together.

Her head popped up. “Oh, yeah, sorry. So, he came back when you were about two. Just came walking up the steps of that little mobile home you grew up in, all easy, breezy, beautiful in jeans and a button-down shirt. Told me