forced grin, hating myself a little bit for letting the truth slip out so fast. Keeping the reality of Mama’s life from Lance was proving to be harder than I’d originally expected. I quickly tried to salvage the situation. “She didn’t do that.” I was rushing my words out like an idiot.
Lance stared at me for a moment, his blue eyes assessing me. It was the first time I truly felt he was seeing me and not the woman that made us both. “Right,” he whispered, his voice hoarse as he shook his head. “You owe me a story.”
I nodded, wracking my brain for what else I could tell him. “Oh, umm,” I began. I was so caught off guard that I didn’t know what to say. It suddenly felt like I had the world on my shoulders. Painting the pleasant picture for Lance was weighing me down, and I didn’t like it.
I felt a hand brush against my back. Decker. For some reason, that little touch bolstered me enough to come up with what I knew Lance needed to hear. “Mama liked to go line dancing. She was always learning new steps. Her boots had holes in them from all her spinning on the dance floor. She had a shrine to George Strait and would kiss his photo every night before bed.”
Lance softened, his earlier reservations gone. “We should go dancing some time,” he said in a soft voice, full of hope and kindness.
“I’d love that,” I lied. I never wanted to step foot in a dance club again. Last time I went, one of Mama’s men felt me up. It made me sick to think of it.
“Okay, well, I’m going to sleep. Y’all don’t stay up too late killing one another and drinking cheap beer. Rose wants me to come in an hour early tomorrow for tabletop meditation. That can’t be sanitary, right? Sitting on the tables at her restaurant while moaning ommmm?” I turned to look at Decker, expecting him to have a satisfied smirk on his face, but instead, he looked conflicted.
“Definitely not sanitary. I want to meet this woman,” Lance said with a chuckle. I took his lightheartedness and ran with it.
Standing up, I brushed the leftover Cheeto dust on my legs, watching the orange powder cling to the sweat there. “Careful what you wish for. She’ll appoint herself as your life coach, too,” I said. “Good night.”
“Sounds like fun. Good night!” Lance called before tossing me a genuine smile, all worry from my minor slip up seemingly forgotten.
“Night,” I replied with a small smile, feeling bad for lying to him but also thankful I managed to salvage the conversation.
I walked to my room, the weight of my day making my feet feel like lead. And the moment my fingers touched my door knob, I felt a heated presence at my back.
Decker.
It figured he’d follow after me. I didn’t bother to spin around. I couldn’t trust myself to keep up my angry attitude toward him while he was shirtless. Instead, I opened the door and walked inside, not caring whether he followed me or not.
“Can I help you?” I asked when I heard my door click shut. I stood at my dresser and took my hair down from its tight bun while staring at my reflection. I could see him behind me, appraising me with an expression I couldn’t quite understand.
“You weren’t lying, were you,” he stated. It didn’t feel like a question. He dropped honesty at my feet like a lead balloon.
“Nope.”
“Why do you lie to Lance?”
I spun around, my hair a wild mess around my face. I stared at Decker for a beat longer than what was appropriate. His chest moved up and down methodically with each breath, and my eyes once again traveled to the way his sweats hung low on his body. Decker Harris was distracting as hell.
“You know what my mama told me when I asked why she gave him up?” I asked. “She said she wanted him to have a better life. She said he deserved more than what she could offer. I guess even now I’m doing her bidding. He wants to know that version of her, and I don’t want to ruin the illusion. Mama wasn’t a doting mother. She was selfish and self-absorbed and cruel. But…”
“But what?” Decker asked while taking a step closer to me. I could feel the heat radiating off his body. Another step and we’d be touching.