Page 11 of Unrivaled

And with that, she stomps to the door, slamming it closed behind her, leaving everyone staring after her.

Well, shit. That didn’t work at all.

CHAPTER FOUR

Tiffany

“Mommy,” Ben whines, clinging to me and sniffling. “Don’t leeeeaave. I want snuggles.”

Trying to extricate myself from my sick son’s embrace is killing me, but I’m supposed to meet with Jackson and Autumn for our last rehearsal. Which, given the way I stormed out of Jackson’s house last week, could be awkward. Neither of them said anything about it during class yesterday, but since we all have places to be afterward, there’s not a lot of time for standing around and chatting about why I hate the star quarterback. Or maybe, like Grayson, they think it’s all due to an old high school rivalry. While letting everyone continue to think that is easiest, I’m not a fan of how petty it makes me look.

Of course the alternative is telling Jackson and Autumn the truth. Though why shouldn’t I? I’m not the bad guy in this situation. Grayson is.He’sthe one who pretended not to know me when informed he’d gotten me pregnant. And while he at least seemed to recognize me this time, he either doesn’t give a shit that he got me pregnant and has a kid he’s never met running around or he’s still pretending he doesn’t know.

And accusing me of hanging onto a high school rivalry, as though that would be something to arrange my life around? Ugh. Not even. I didn’t care that much about it at the time. Sure, I pretended to, because that’s what was expected. But who actually gives a crap about that in real life?

Ben whimpers again, cinching his arms tighter around my neck and bringing me back to the present. I’ll worry about his sperm donor later.

My mom gives me a sympathetic look. “Could you reschedule?”

I shake my head. “Our performance is tomorrow. We need to run our scene a few more times to make sure all the kinks are worked out. This is a major part of our grade.”

With her focus on Ben and a soft look on her face, she suggests, “Could you meet here instead?”

Sucking in an audible breath, I consider the idea.

“I know it’s probably not cool to still live with your parents at your age and you feel like a high school kid inviting your friends to your parents’ house. But I’ll keep Ben company on the couch. We’ll be your dress rehearsal audience. That’s a thing that happens, right?”

Chuckling, I shake my head. “I’m not exactly some insider person in the theatre world, so I have no idea.”

Ben sniffs loudly, and I look down to see a snot bubble over one nostril. Grabbing a tissue, I hold it over his nose. “Blow,” I command.

He whines and makes a pitiful effort. He hates blowing his nose. He hates being sick. And he hates being with anyone other than me when he feels this way.

And while I couldn’t snuggle him while performing the scene, I could still give him attention if we meet here. Plus Mom would make snacks, and the lighting is nicer here than in the library study room we usually book. Someday, when I’ve graduated and I’m working for an accounting firm and living on my own, I won’t have the luxury of doing this. Of course, Ben will be older then and maybe he won’t want me as much when he’s sick. But I still like it when my mom takes care of me when I don’t feel good, and I’m twenty-two. I might as well take advantage of the opportunity while I have it.

“I’ll text them and see what they say.”

Thirty minutes later, Autumn and Jackson show up at my door. I answer it with Ben clinging to me like a snotty monkey and give them a grateful smile as they file in. “Hey, guys. Thanks so much for accommodating my last minute venue change.”

Autumn gives me a sunny smile, her gaze settling on Ben as Jackson closes the door behind him. “No problem. And who’s this little guy?”

I hitch Ben up my hip. “This is Benjamin. He’s not feeling too good today.” I kiss his forehead, and he buries his face in my shoulder, nothing like his usual friendly self since he’s feeling crummy. He doesn’t have a fever, at least, but when I picked him up from preschool, he was dragging and complaining, and it’s gone downhill since then.

“Awww, poor guy,” Autumn says, her face a mask of sympathy. “Chamomile tea with honey is good for colds if you can get him to drink it. If he has a sore throat, it’ll help with that too.”

“Thanks for the tip,” I tell her, leading her and Jackson to the living room where Mom has already pushed the coffee table out of the way.

She comes out of the kitchen carrying chips and salsa that she sets on the coffee table next to the paper plates and napkins she’s already set out. “Hey, guys. I’m Dana, Tiffany’s mom. Help yourselves to some snacks if you like. I’ll be keeping Ben company while you rehearse. Otherwise, just pretend I’m not here.”

I hide my smile against Ben’s head. I love my mom, but ignoring her is basically impossible.

Mom sits on the couch and holds her arms out for Ben, but he just clings onto me even tighter.

“It’s alright, Mom. We’re not quite ready to start yet.” I sit next to her and wait while Jackson and Autumn take off their jackets and get themselves settled, which includes Jackson helping himself to the chips and salsa and folding himself up to sit on the floor. He’s not the tallest guy on the football team, which I discovered when I was surrounded by giants at his house on Thursday, but he’s not exactly short either. Certainly taller than anyone here.

I manage to sit next to my mom and scootch Ben so he’s between us. When it’s time for me to stand and perform the scene, he protests with a little whimper, but then snuggles into his gramma, yawning widely as he blinks up at us.

When we finish, Mom claps, provoking laughter from me, but Autumn does a bow like it’s a real curtain call. Jackson looks away, his cheeks flushing.

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