Summer Breeze Kisses - Addison Moore Page 0,29

get thrown for a loop. I’ve worked so hard to build this fort around me, and sometimes I get tired of holding up the walls. It’s so damn heavy. Sometimes I just want to be normal. Is there such a thing?

Confused,

~Iz

Wednesday morning, the sun splits through a crack in the curtains and blinds me with its overbearing exuberance. It’s not that I can’t appreciate a nice sunny day, but I happened to be enjoying where my mind had wandered off to and sort of wanted to linger. I haven’t had a dream like that in, well, never. I was at Holt’s apartment, and we were in the middle of a mad video game session just laughing our asses off, staring at the screen, neither one of us willing to lose. Something about the whole scene, about being with Holt and just having a good time with him made me happy.

A tail lashes over my face and tickles my nose.

“Sneezy.” I push him away and accidentally slide him right off the bed. “Oops, sorry.”

That dream felt so real. It felt good, comfortable hanging out with Holt like that. Usually I’m repelled by men, and, yet, with Holt it’s like I can’t get enough.

I stumble out of bed and into the living room. There’s so much to do before next Thursday, the big twenty-year anniversary of the studio. And it’s been twice as stressful since I’m planning a few surprises for my mother. It’s impossible to keep anything from her.

The cats congregate around my ankles with their good morning wails, tripping me twice on the way to the kitchen. The strong smell of cigarette smoke comes from the living room, and I head in that direction.

“Would you knock that off?” I burst in to find Greasy D lying on the couch with one hand down his pants and the TV on low. “We don’t smoke.” Or masturbate in open areas of the house, but I leave that part out for now.

“Well, darlin’—I do.” He takes a hit and blows a mini tornado from his thin, greasy lips. His gray hair is sticking straight up, what little he has left, and his stubble looks as if his face has been sprayed with silver shards.

“Mom?” My voice escalates in horror. If anything she’ll go ballistic when she sees he’s lit one up, and that alone will be worth the show.

“She ain’t here. She was up early and out the door while your lazy ass was sawing logs.”

“And what exactly is it that your lazy ass does?” I’m so pissed. I’m shaking. Usually I don’t mean to chase away my mother’s boyfriends, it sort of happens by default, but this is one I’d like to missile launch into space.

“I’m looking after you.” He gives a quick wink and rides his stoned-out eyes over my tank top and shorts in a tactile manner. I can feel those invisible hands roving over me as I cry out for my mother all those years ago. Instinctually I cover my chest and head for the kitchen. I think it’s time to have a talk with Mom. I don’t know why the hell she’d want a moron like Greasy D in her life.

And why is she such a magnet for creeps, anyway?

The studio has a few extra cars in the lot, and I know for a fact one of them belongs to my sweet baby sis. It’s odd since Laney hasn’t been here in ages.

I head in and say a quick hello to Bella, the girl who has worked behind the front desk for the last five years. She was the first person I hired when I took the reins from my mother. Well, not officially. Mom runs a tight ship, but she graciously handed over a majority of the grunt work once I began working here fulltime. The only duty she’s held onto was the books, and, truthfully, money management has never been my forte as evidenced by my under-the-mattress method of personal banking.

“Izzy?” Laney comes up from the hall and gives me a quick hug.

“Fancy meeting you here.” I mean it. “Considering it as a venue for the reception?”

There’s no way in hell Laney would even dream of the idea. She’s always had champagne taste, and, lucky for her, because Ryder can build an entire house out of Dom Perignon bottles if he wanted. Speaking of dreams, Holt pops back into my mind.

“Right.” She nods into me. “And we’ll have the buffet laid out right here at the