It's Definitely Not You - Abby Brooks Page 0,49

a drink of coffee as Kennedy scurried past her on her way to the house.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Kennedy

Wednesday was perfect. Thursday was sublime. Friday was halfway over and it was shaping up to be just as good, if not better. On my way to the clinic, I called Mom. Her voice blasted through my speakers and I jumped out of my skin before I turned her down. Why did I never remember to adjust the volume for her?

“Heya, lady,” I said as I navigated the sun-bleached streets from Key West Pediatrics to The Community Health Clinic. “How’re you?”

“Better now that I’m talking to my favorite daughter.”

As if I was still sixteen and mortified by parental affection, I rolled my eyes, then laughed quietly at my reaction. She’d said that kind of stuff for years and I loved it even if I was embarrassed to admit it.

“I’m your only daughter.” I delivered my line with gusto.

“Doesn’t change the fact that you’re my favorite.” She waited a beat, probably to add a mental rimshot. Ba-bum-ching! “I’ve been missing our dinner and movie nights.”

I’d never been good at splitting my attention. With Joe dominating my time, my weekly visits with Mom had all but disappeared. “I have, too. But what if I said I had a consolation prize?”

“You know how much I love consolation prizes.” The cheeriness in her voice ratcheted up, undoubtedly to hide her disappointment.

“You’ll be happy to hear that I seem to have found a house husband, as per your advice.”

“What?! You’re engaged? I didn’t even know you were dating someone!”

I tweaked the volume again and checked to see if my ears were bleeding. “I’m not engaged and we’re barely dating.” I explained who Joe was and how we met. “We were still pretty sure we hated each other, and he surprised me with dinner one night when I came home from work just because he knew how tired I’d been. Then, a few days ago, he made me breakfast before work—”

“Breakfast before work?” Insinuation sing-songed over my speakers. “I take it things are progressing quickly?”

Well, shit.

I wasn’t exactly ready to enter into a conversation about my sex-life with my mother, but there we were. “I’m comfortable with the speed.” I hurried on, eager to shift the topic before she started screaming questions about orgasms and dicks. “He has this really gruff exterior, but underneath it, he’s super sweet and generous. Plus, he’s hilarious. Intelligent. Well-traveled. He told me his morning brain was as foggy as the Scottish moors. Isn’t that funny? And he’s so good-looking.”

As proof of his good-looking status, my brain supplied images of his face, staring down at me while I sucked him off Wednesday morning. I shut up before I brought us right back to orgasms and dicks.

Mom sighed dreamily. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you gush about someone like this. Like ever.”

“I’m not gushing.” I was, however, blushing. Furiously.

“You’re totally gushing.”

“Fine. I’m gushing. But he deserves it. He’s…I don’t know, Mom. He feels special.”

“Your dad was like that at first, too. Oh, how I swooned every time he came into a room! This smart, sexy doctor was interested in little old me? And he was such a diligent lover.” Her voice said she was reliving some of those moments.

Over the phone.

With me.

I cringed. “Too far, Mom.”

“I know, I know. Please strike that last comment from the records.”

“Believe me,” I said as I flipped on a turn indicator. “I’m trying.”

“Some men just aren’t meant for relationships.”

Did Mom know she stepped right onto the landmine of fear her failed relationship with Dad had planted in me?

Did she know I considered our family line cursed when it came to love?

I didn’t think so, or else she’d have been more tactful, but that didn’t stop my heart from gallomphing around in my chest as I thought about Joe’s prickly exterior.

With a grimace and a shake of my head, I pushed those thoughts away. “That’s just what I wanted to hear as I’m entering into what might be my first relationship in a decade.”

My inner narrator pulled back in shock.

Was that right? Was Joe the closest I’d come to a relationship in ten years?

I did a quick calculation. Between college, med school, and interning, there really hadn’t been much time for anything but sleep. And sometimes not even that. My love life had definitely fizzled. I’d been fine with it, until very recently. Love was too consuming for someone as busy as me.

Mom groaned. “I wasn’t talking about you and your