Hired Hottie - Kelsie Rae Page 0,62
from my childhood and reminds me of Christmas mornings and Sunday brunches. There’s a soft-ball sized stain on one side, and I make a mental note to order her a new one.
Which reminds me….
My eyes dart to the mail organizer to see a fresh stack of bills. The pressure in my chest tightens.
“Grab a plate. It’s ready,” she orders before grabbing a spatula and flipping a perfectly cooked strip of bacon.
I set two plates onto the counter. “Here you go.”
“So, how’s your day going?” she asks, dishing me up a pair of eggs and some bacon.
I fight my smile, but she catches me at the last second.
“What was that?”
“Nothing.”
“Bologna,” she argues. “What’s going on?”
“How about you tell me why you asked me to come over?” I return, changing the subject as I sit down at the table and dig in.
“I wanted to tell you the good news in person since you’ve been such a worrywart.”
My eyes widen in surprise, but I try to keep my hope in check. “And?” I press.
“And the doctor called yesterday with the results.”
“Results?” Now I’m confused. “I thought you were going to say they could squeeze you in earlier than at the end of the month like they initially told you. What do you mean results?”
I watch as she grabs her plate and sits down at the table across from me. “Don’t be angry, Levi.”
“About what?” My suspicion rises––along with my blood pressure.
“I had it removed last week.”
“What?” I roar. Dropping the fork on my plate, I shove away from the table. “You’ve already had it removed?”
“I didn’t want you to worry—”
“Bullshit, Mom!” I curse, trying to reel in my anger. And failing miserably. “You found a lump in your breast, and then you had it removed without even telling me? What if there was a complication? What if there was an allergic reaction or something? What if I’d lost you? What if––”
“Stop.” Her tone is absolute. “It was an outpatient procedure, and they were able to fit me in earlier than expected. I was going to tell you, but you’re right. I didn’t want you to worry. I knew that if you were in the loop on the surgery, you’d be sitting on pins and needles waiting for the results just like I was. You needed to focus on your internship instead of your mom.”
“That’s no excuse,” I argue, frustrated with my mom for the first time in years. We’ve always been a team. Always. Hell, I feel like I’ve been demoted to a need-to-know basis, and it pisses me off.
“You’re right,” she admits. “What I did was selfish. But it’s a moot point. They called with the results yesterday, which is why I invited you over in the first place.”
“And?” I bite out, crossing my arms.
“And the results came back negative. I don’t have cancer. It was just a lump.”
My heart rate spikes, but I keep myself in check.
“Did you ask the doctor if the probability of you having cancer in the future is higher because you’ve already had a lump even though this particular one wasn’t an issue?”
“He said there’s a slight increase, but it’s nothing to worry about. We’ll move to bi-annual check-ups. I’m okay, Levi. Now, breathe,” she laughs. “You’re scaring me.”
With a sigh, I sit back down and pick up my fork, though my appetite has yet to return. Pushing the cold bits of egg around my plate, I grumble, “I’m really happy you’re okay, Mom. But you can’t keep something like that from me ever again.”
“I won’t. I promise. It was selfish of me. Even though I had your best interest at heart, it still hurts to be lied to.”
An image of Charlie comes to mind. It’s quickly followed by Conner’s face, red with anger when I called off our little arrangement. My mouth floods with bile. I might’ve ended it, but I was still stupid enough to agree to Conner’s proposition in the first place, and I’m too much of a coward to tell Charlie the truth.
The feel of my mom’s little hand covering mine on the tabletop grabs my attention.
“Speaking of secrets…ready to tell me what that smile was about from a few minutes ago?”
“I haven’t decided yet,” I grumble, making her laugh.
“Oh, come on. Throw your mama a bone, will ya?”
Clearing my throat, I tell her the truth while praying I’m not jinxing myself. “I took Charlie on a date last night.”
“Like a date date?” she clarifies, her enthusiasm bubbling just below the surface. When