Misadventures of a Rookie (Misadventures #11)(37)

Davis had called me Boo since the moment he started talking. It was sweet. He must have said yes, because his voice came over the line, sounding excited as he said, “Boo, I’m playing hockey!”

“I know, bud, I heard! Do you love it?”

“I do! You have to come watch me.”

“I’d love that.”

“I miss you.”

My heart warmed. Sometimes I wondered if he really loved me or even really knew me enough to notice I wasn’t around. “I miss you, bud.”

“Okay. Here is Mom.”

My mom came back on the phone, and I could tell she loved our exchange, but I couldn’t ignore the pangs in my heart. “I was actually calling to see if you’d be able to make it back home for a game. I emailed you the schedule. Daddy and I will pay to fly you home. We want you to come.”

“Oh,” I said, surprised by their offer. “Yeah, I’d love to come. I gotta look at the schedule, and maybe I can come when the Suns are gone a few days.”

“That would be great. We miss you around here.”

“I miss you guys too.”

“Good. Let’s try to make this happen. I know you’re very busy.”

“I am, but I want to come.”

“Good. Let me know,” she said just as Gus’s phone went off. A new photo of his mom appeared. He had her in his phone with the contact name Coolest Mom in the World, with, of course, a lot of heart emojis. It was adorable, but I didn’t dare answer. I hit the mute button, but at the ringtone, Mom asked, “What was that?”

“Oh, just Lizzy’s phone.”

“Ah okay. Well, honey, I’ll let you go. Talk soon.”

“Yeah, I’ll email you.”

“Great,” she said. But instead of saying bye, she blew out a breath. “I’m hoping you don’t let us down.”

There it was.

“I don’t want to.”

“Good,” she said, and then the line went dead. Rolling my eyes, I threw my phone down just as Gus’s started singing with a text from his mom.

Coolest Mom in the World: I could be on my deathbed and you aren’t answering, you jerk. Why the hell aren’t you playing tonight?



I grinned. My mom would never speak to me like that. With us, it was different. Too much had happened. I had let her down like she not-so-gently liked to remind me. Often. I wasn’t the daughter she raised, and it bothered me that she couldn’t see the good in me. I was a decent person. A little burned here and there, but I was nice. Good. I had worked so hard to put the past behind me. To make something of my education and opportunities—even if MPT wasn’t Stanford. But here was literally the coolest mom in the world trash talking her son, while my mom was just hoping I wouldn’t disappoint her. Again.

Disgusted with myself, I looked down at his phone, and I swear it was taunting me. I couldn’t believe I actually felt jealous of Gus’s relationship with his mom. I knew I shouldn’t look through his phone, but I wanted to. Desperately. So I opened it. He wasn’t lying—it wasn’t locked. He had tons of text messages, mostly from his mom, dad, and Max. There were a few from a guy named Mike and then tons from numbers that had no names to them. They were obviously from girls he had slept with. I scanned the texts, all begging for more of the amazing Gus.

I ignored those.

I went right to his pictures. Mostly the album was just him, his friends, his parents, and lots of him playing hockey. He wasn’t joking when he said there were videos, but unlike what I assumed, they were videos of him on a lake, playing hockey and doing tricks. He was so talented. It was mind-blowing watching him play around, laughing and just being him. He seemed like such a vanilla guy, but then I noticed the folder labeled Nasty Shit. There was the mother lode of videos of girls jiggling their tits, getting themselves off, and pictures of more of the same. I couldn’t help but laugh.

He was just as dirty as rumored.

Inhaling hard, I threw the phone on the bed and then fell back, exhaling the breath I’d been holding. “What the hell am I doing? I know this won’t last. I am legit setting myself up for failure. Not only is he a horndog, and yeah, I know he is probably the best lay of my life, but he isn’t going to stay. He is going to leave, off into the fast lane of being a rookie in the NHL. He won’t have time for me.” Covering my face with my hands, I groaned loudly. “I know better!”

“Okay, the talking to yourself thing is getting weird.”

Peeking through my fingers, I saw Lizzy standing at my bedroom door. She was holding her shoes in her hands, and she looked like she had been ridden hard and put away wet. “Girl,” I said. “You look rough.”

She nodded. “Lots of tequila and sex will do that.”

I giggled loudly as I shook my head. “Did you at least have fun?”

“I did,” she said softly, toeing the carpet. “It was a great time.”

“Good.”

“How about you? You have fun with Mr. Persson?”

My grin must have given it away.

“I knew it.”

I rolled my eyes, looking away, trying to play as if I wasn’t still pulsating from the night before. “Whatever.”

“I hope you didn’t get attached since you won’t be seeing him around anymore.”