Page 3 of Undeniable
“The monthly state check came in early. Car keys. Where are they? I know they’re here because your car is in the driveway.” Her voice deepened, and I could hear that she was stone-cold sober, a far cry from earlier this week when she was passed out on the couch with an empty bottle of wine on the floor beside her.
If I didn’t tell her, she would bug the crap out of me. “They’re in my backpack in my room.”
“When are you coming home?” she asked. “We need to talk.”
I was now standing outside the pool house. “About what?”
“Family business.”
My muscles tensed. “If you’re about to dump another man on us, I will pack my bags.”
“Daughter, don’t throw out idle threats.”
This conversation was over. “I’m staying at Bailey’s tonight. After I pick up Kaylee tomorrow evening, I’ll be home.”
“I’ll pick up my daughter. You make sure you’re here by six.” She hung up before I could protest.
I wanted to throw my phone over the back fence into the wide-open field. Instead, I proceeded to use the facilities, seething the whole time about my mother.
As I returned to the festivities several minutes later, I spotted the birthday boy standing with his football buddies and laughing with a drink in his hand as though his family problems were solved. I dumped my phone in my bag and grabbed my cup.
“What’s wrong?” Bails asked. “Didn’t get laid?”
Leave it to her and her psychology classes to see right through me.
“My mom called. You know how she can take my anger barometer from zero to eighty in seconds. But let’s not talk about her. I’m getting another drink. Do you want a refill?”
“I’m good. Say hi to the birthday boy while you’re over there.” She lowered her sunglasses and waggled her brows.
I flipped her off then skirted bodies sitting on the edge of the pool with their legs dangling in the water. As much as I was trying to shuck the aftereffects of the call, I couldn’t seem to relax. While I opened the spout on the mango concoction, I was planning out where I would live if my mom had another guy move in.
I took a sip—or rather, a large gulp—and a brain freeze hit me. Wincing, I spun around and crashed straight into what felt like a brick wall. My drink exploded between us, sticky mango sweetness splattering across tanned skin peeking out of his unzipped hoodie. I should have been mortified, but the brain freeze had literally shut down my ability to do anything other than look up into startled eyes the color of shiny copper pennies.
Next thing I knew, time slowed as gravity took the wheel, and Lucas freaking Allen’s strong fingers closed around my wrist, his other hand instinctively reaching for my waist as we plunged backward into the chlorinated abyss, my body tethered to his. The world dissolved, and as the brain freeze cleared, the terrifying knowledge that I was heading straight for the chlorinated water had me squirming and panicking.
As we broke the surface, I gasped for air, blinking water from my eyes, praying I didn’t get any of the chemical in them.
“Whoa,” he said in a raspy tone that was sexy and gentle, which didn’t match the guy I’d seen with storm clouds on his face and a phone to his ear. Now, he wore that easy smile like a mask.
What the hell had I crashed into?
“You okay?” That damn voice of his awakened parts of me that had been dormant for over a year.
Up close, he was hotter than the pictures I’d seen on Instagram. He had the perfect lips that I wouldn’t mind kissing.
“I’m—” My skin began to prickle, a warning that a rash would be next. “I need to get out. I’m allergic to?—”
Before I could finish, he was helping me out of the water, both of us dripping wet. He peeled off his hoodie and tossed it onto an empty chair like it weighed too much to carry.
The music had stopped, and even without looking at the crowd, I could feel every eyeball on me. The embarrassment was real, and I usually wasn’t one to care what others thought of me. Still, my first party in ages, and I pushed the guest of honor in the pool.
He waved his hand around. “We’re fine.”
“Speak for yourself,” I muttered, wanting to trace the water droplets sliding down over his massive biceps.
Why everyone clapped was beyond me. But voices began to buzz, and the music resumed, easing the sting of humiliation on my cheeks.
“So, allergic? To me?” The question came with a boyish grin that shouldn’t have sent warmth spreading through my belly, not when my skin was beginning to itch.
