Loner by Harloe Rae Page 0,89

reminds me of the secret shake Millie shares with Crawford. Screw not saying his name. Ignoring him isn’t doing the trick—maybe overexposure is the way to go.

“Other than a few detours. I have Ford to thank for any ill feelings.” I let the edges of my lips curl.

“Eh, it wasn’t all bad. By next week, you’ll be able to look back on the better moments.”

“He‘s history, Josey. Ford chose to go. I’m not moping over him for another second.”

“Yeah, there you go. Don’t take any blame, Keke. You couldn’t predict he’d turn out to be a prickle bush.” Josey wags her brows, and I brace for whatever bomb she’s going to drop next. “So, dancing?”

“Why are you so desperate to shake your booty?”

“I think a better question would be why aren’t you?”

I peek over at Millie. She’s beaming at me, waiting for my verdict. “How about a compromise? We can bust all the moves in the privacy of my living room where there’s zero potential of anyone else seeing me.”

Josey stands from her chair and Millie leaps upright to follow suit. They exchange a smile, turning to me. “Do we get to choose the music?”

They earn a genuine laugh for that. “Sure. I won’t protest.”

The far younger of the two pumps her fist in the air. “All girls party at our house.”

Josey presses a finger over Millie’s mouth while trying to keep a straight face herself. “I wouldn’t say that too loud or we might get some uninvited guests.”

My daughter visibly shrinks when she realizes others might have heard her. “Let’s leave before they follow us.”

Josey is still on the verge of cackling. “Good plan, Mills. Lead the way.”

And I follow along with a legit pep in my step as the memories of Crawford stay behind.

Healing Hug #27: A warped hold for testing loyalty.

I lean into the sharp turn, slant my bike at a diagonal, and crank the throttle. A pulsing rush flows through my veins from the spike in adrenaline. I haven’t been able to reach that high lately. The engine howls as I demand more speed. That constant roaring grounds me, tethering my body to the moment. I’ve managed to slice twenty minutes off my commute to Gulligan Haven. That might be a new record.

Rows of houses frame the street on both sides, but there’s no one else on the road. This sleepy subdivision would be a perfect starting line for a drag race. I snort, the sound bouncing against my helmet. These rigid homeowners would call the cops faster than drivers could congregate. Hell, they barely tolerate me whizzing by on a bimonthly basis.

I whip into my mother’s driveway with a loud screech from gears grinding and the stench of burning rubber. There’s no reason to linger on the curb today. I already made one hell of an entrance into her neighborhood. A thick cloud of exhaust and reckless decisions form behind me as I dismount. Repairing the damage to my Harley will give me something to focus on later.

With a cyclone swirling in my gut, I bound toward the house. All appears normal until my boots nearly smash through her rickety porch stairs. I glance down to notice the boards giving way. A few spots on the railing could use a fresh coat of paint. Her lawn looks a week overdue for a mow. My mother’s friend must be preoccupied with other tasks. A shudder rolls through me while I raise my fist to knock. That’s trouble for another day.

My mom opens the door, takes one look at me, and smiles wide. “Who is she? No bullshitting this time.”

I smirk at her while stepping into the foyer. “What’re the chances we could exchange a few pleasantries before diving into my lack of a love life?”

“Zilch. And don’t pretend you’ve suddenly taken a liking to frivolous greetings.” She crosses her arms, giving me that stern expression I can’t contend with.

“All right, fine. Can we at least sit down while I face your interrogation?”

She rolls her eyes. “Just give me the highlights. That’ll appease me for now.”

I study her for a moment. “Because that’s not suspicious as fuck, Ma. Are you in a hurry?”

Her gaze skitters to a spot over my shoulder. “Not necessarily.”

“Did I catch you in the middle of something?” I follow her line of sight while trying not to assume the worst. Bile threatens to tickle my throat. If her fuck buddy is waiting naked upstairs, I might retch all over the carpet.

“Nope, everything is