Page 108 of Rockstar Baby
“Rory Michael.”
I fished out the piece of bread, dunking it more thoroughly before I chewed and swallowed. “How did you know?”
“Because you came home,” she said simply.
“Is there anything to drink?”
“Milk on the door as always.”
I ducked my head, a little embarrassed she still thought I preferred milk over any other drink. Mostly because it was true.
No wonder I’d fallen for my dairy queen.
I retrieved the glass bottle of milk and got down a glass, filling it to the brim. Then I returned to the table and took out my phone.
It contained two things that preyed on my mind. One, the voicemail I still hadn’t listened to. And…this.
I scrolled through my picture app and found the right one. In it, Ivy was laughing at something Maggie and Zoe had said. I’d taken it right before we’d played Nickelback’s “Animals” on stage. She was so beautiful I’d just had to save the moment. To have tangible proof she’d existed in my life. With one glimpse, I could hear her laughter and carry it with me as if I’d never left.
“This is Ivy.” I pushed the phone across the table.
My mum picked it up and sighed. “Oh, she’s lovely, isn’t she? Irish? She must be, with that coloring.”
“She’s never said. Her last name is Beck.”
“Irish,” she proclaimed. “Do you love her?”
I didn’t even hesitate. “Yes.” I rubbed my throat to get it working again. “Is it possible to fall in love in one night?” In one hour? “It must be, because I’ve done it.” I let out a rusty laugh. “And I didn’t even realize until you just asked me. At least not to put a name to it.”
She set down my phone, still smiling faintly. “You never put a name to much. You just keep your head down and work while life passes you by.”
I drained my milk. It was easier than acknowledging she was right.
Also, nothing was quite as good as milk from home.
“Does she love you back?”
“I don’t—we haven’t ever—I think she may want to let me down easily.”
My mother just waited for me to make sense. I was waiting too.
I tried to explain what had happened between us, more or less. The way we’d met and how I’d left and then returned a month later. I probably slightly exaggerated how well we’d gotten to know each other and minimized exactly how many times we’d learned about each other in a…carnal fashion. But really, what was more intimate? And I wasn’t in a habit of falling in love with women I shagged, so that wasn’t a consideration. Our time together had been accelerated certainly, but everything else between us had been too.
At least on my end. I couldn’t say for sure how she felt.
Because you’re too much of a wuss to listen to that voicemail.
“So, you flew here instead of flying to her and confessing your feelings to her. As if she’s Darla and you’ll surely find her having relations with some friend of yours.”
“You know entirely too much,” I mumbled.
“I do. Which is exactly why you came to your mum.” She slid my phone back to me and tugged on my fingers. “She’s glad, you know. She misses you very much. And those chats we used to have.” She drew back her hand, and I gripped my phone to have something to hold onto.
Ivy’s laughing eyes taunted me.
“I don’t think she’s Darla.”
“No?”
