Page 69 of Cocky Jerk

“You’re pregnant?”

“What? No!”

“She might be,” I say thoughtfully, recalling our stint in the shower.

“For fuck’s sake, I’m not pregnant! I’m on the pill,” Antonia shrieks.

Hmm.

That should be a relief, and yet I find myself mildly disappointed. I guess I’ve officially lost my mind. Pushing the crazy thoughts out of my head, my eyes dart between the two women in my life.

“Are you religious, dear?”

“Not particularly.”

“Then you don’t know what a mortal sin my son just committed.”

“With all due respect, it was an accident,” Antonia defends.

“That saint is decades old. A timeless tradition, and now it’s a pile of trash.”

“Oh, please, it was ugly as shit,” I say. “I’ve had nightmares about that thing since I was a kid.”

“You’re gonna have nightmares tonight when I smack you silly,” my mother threatens, shoving open the window. “This place is full of smoke.”

“That’s my fault too,” Antonia admits miserably. “I tried to cook breakfast.”

My mother’s head turns.

“You don’t know how to cook?”

“Nope,” Antonia says, smacking her lips together. “I’m not the ideal candidate for your son.”

“You have a uterus, honey, you’ll do.”

* * *

“I really like your mom,”Antonia says as she climbs into my bed.

After the smoke cleared, my mom got to work on making us a real breakfast. The two bonded over bacon and eggs and I sat there trying not to read too much into it. Not only did she fit perfectly around Tig and Delia, but she also got along with my mother even though the woman offered to track her period to determine what days she was most fertile.

Once the table was cleared, and numbers were exchanged, my mother announced she was leaving us to go to church. But before she left, she made me write her a check to replace the saint and offered me my grandmother’s engagement ring to give to Antonia. By lunchtime, I was six hundred dollars poorer, horny, and on the verge of getting married.

Antonia decided we should get out of the house for a little while and so we went to the supermarket where I picked up the ingredients I needed to cook us dinner. When we got back to the apartment, I put on the Yankee game and popped open a beer. I was surprised to find out Antonia loved baseball too.

Her phone rang a few times during the game. I assumed it was her father or someone for the club, but she told me it was her mother. She got quiet after that and I asked her what was wrong. She told me her mother was the complete opposite of mine and she resented her for leaving Tank. She also revealed her mom as one of the best criminal defense lawyers in New York City and her number one client was her ex-husband.

That threw me for a loop, but I didn’t say anything.

We cooked dinner together—well, I cooked. After the breakfast fiasco, I left her in charge of the salad. She couldn’t set the house on fire slicing a cucumber.

Now, it’s long past dinner, and I’m fucking exhausted. All I want to do is sleep and she wants to talk about my mother…again.

I love my mother, but no thank you.

“C’mere,” I whisper, spreading my arms wide for her. She nestles against my side and leans over the nightstand to shut the lamp. “Good night,” I murmur, kissing the top of her head.

“Marco?”

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