Page 59 of Fool for You
I hung up before she could say anything back, shoved my phone in my pocket, and made my way downstairs. Wyatt stood in the middle of the living room, a box of pizza balancing on one hand, a bottle of ginger ale in the other. Our eyes met, and he beamed, small crinkles forming in the corner of his eyes. Those wrinkles only made me smile; the pure amusement that radiated off of him as he stood in the midst of all my boots was contagious.
“You have more boots than any normal person would have in their lifetime, and why are they all in the living room. Better question? Where were they before they were in your living room?”
I chuckled and tossed the hatbox I was still carrying on the chair. “There are twenty-one pairs of boots here, Wyatt, and they were in my closet. I’m packing.” I took the pizza box from him. “Pizza? I thought I had to eat healthy.”
“Cauliflower crust and veggies. It’s basically a salad.” Wyatt spun in a circle, looking at all the boots. “Twenty-one pairs…how long are you gone for? A month?”
“Three days.”
“My question still stands about the boots.”
I headed into the kitchen, hearing him follow.
“I like to see my options,” I said, placing the pizza box and my phone on the kitchen island.
My phone buzzed…again…with the same parent calling. I turned the phone screen down and caught Wyatt’s look. No one really knew about my relationship with my mother. Cash knew snippets—enough to know I didn’t really have her in my corner—but other than him, I never talked about her. And even though I could see the question filtering through Wyatt’s face, I cleared my throat and moved on.
“Cauliflower crust, huh?” I sighed, opening the pizza box. “Never tried it.”
He inhaled. “It’s disgusting, so I apologize in advance.”
“You know.” I gave him a sideways glance before pulling a slice from the box. “I go to the gym and work out so I don’t have to watch my weight. I eat what I want, when I want.” I took a bite and chewed and…oh…yes…Wyatt was so wrong. It was delicious. I hummed as I chewed. “I learned my lesson as a kid. I will never, ever count calories.”
“Who the fuck made you count calories as a kid?” He furrowed his brow and leaned on the counter.
For a quick moment, I debated lying, but for some reason, I didn’t want to lie to him. Even if the truth hurt a little. “My mom. For pageants. But when I stopped those, I stopped counting. I love food, and I’m grateful I never developed a bad relationship with it.” I took another bite. “But you’re very wrong.” I chewed, closing my eyes and savoring the taste. “This is delicious.”
“Glad you like it.” Wyatt smiled, his eyes on me, a slanted grin on his lips as he accepted the change of subject.
My phone, however, didn’t. It began to buzz once again, and I swear, the vibration just kept getting louder. Was that a thing? Did phones know you were avoiding calls and purposely become more violent when you didn’t answer? I glared at it.
Wyatt pointed at it. “You can answer that, you know. Don’t let me stop you.”
“It’s not important.” I spun, reaching for two glasses, a little disappointed I had forgotten to pull them out.
“Who is it?”
Shaking my head, I turned the phone over, Mom’s photo blaring between us. I watched until it stopped, then flipped it over again, sliding it further away. Ignoring it, I grabbed the ginger ale, the cap making the perfectpfftsound as it released with the twist. Wyatt was silent, his eyes following my every move. I filled both cups and handed one to him before he finally spoke.
“She’s uh—” He began, a crack in his voice. “—not very supportive? Is she?”
I heaved a long sigh, met his gaze, and then shook my head. “No,” I said simply.
He was quiet, his eyes darting as he tried to find something to focus on, but like always, he settled on my eyes. The bright blue orbs filled with concern as he took a deep breath, in and out, focusing on me. My body just froze, feeling the chill my mother always brought with her. She could take anything that I found joy in and ruin it. Even a night with Wyatt.
To think…months ago I would have never imagined him sitting here with me. I would have never thought I would consider him a friend. And once again…I found myself not wanting to keep this from him. My simple ‘no’ wasn’t enough. He made me feel different. Like I wanted to open up, and I almost wanted to tell him everything. He made me feel warm and safe just sitting across the island from me. That frozen feeling that was creeping up after his one simple question began to fade as I looked at him.
“I don’t really talk about it,” I said softly, breaking eye contact to look at my fingers.
“We don’t have to.”
“No, it’s not that.” I sighed. “It’s that no one really ever asked me.”
“No one?” His brow pinched.
“I mean, my friends all saw the way she was when we were growing up.” Twisting my lips, I shook my head. “Maybe it’s the norm where I grew up. There are a lot of pageant moms, and some get into it more than others. That was my mom. She supported me when I did pageants. She was only proud of me when I did pageants.”
“That can’t be true.”
