All That Jazz (Butler Cove #1)(23)

“Ugh,” I complained, laughing. “Trust you to focus on the logistics of my career choices and not my sexual plans.”

“Well, at least you have career choices.” She chuckled. “And I just don’t want to see you let down.”

“Well, if I don’t put much stock in my virginity, I won’t be let down right?” I raised an eyebrow, proud of my reasoning.

“But don’t you want your first time to be with someone you really trust? I mean, it’s so intimate, and I don’t care what you say but sex for sure has emotions attached. I can’t believe otherwise.”

“You read too many romances, K.”

She shrugged. “Probably. But you need to find someone you trust, even if they’re here for a short time,” she added at my warning look. “And preferably someone with a bit of experience, at least one of you should know what you’re doing so it’s not awful.”

I grinned. “So you’re on board with my plan?”

“I didn’t say that. I think it’s ridiculous.”

“But you’ll help me anyway?”

She sighed. “You’ll do it anyway, no matter what I say. So yeah, I guess I’ll support you.”

“Yes,” I said gleefully and pumped my fist in the air. “Now, I just need to get your brother out of the way.”

She chuckled. “God, you two. Is it too much to ask that my brother and my best friend actually get along?”

“Is it too much to ask that my best friend’s brother not be an arrogant asshat?”

“Honestly, don’t you think he’s mellowed somewhat? I think he’s been so busy trying to get done with school in three years and trying to get into a med program, that he seems a bit more … humble.”

“Joseph Butler? Humble? I’ll believe it when I see it.” I glanced off toward him. He was taller than Chase. The kind of tall that could make a tall girl like me still feel delicate. He was laughing at something. “Unless he didn’t get to rely on that smile of his. Or if he lost an eye. Or developed a wart nose and grew a hunchback. I can’t imagine that guy getting humble.”

“I knew it!” Keri Ann exclaimed.

“Knew what?” I said.

“You think my brother is hot.”





“MOM,” I WHISPERED, standing at my mother’s bedroom door. “Are you up?” I heard her come in really late last night, later than she usually did when she was the one locking up at the convenience store. A job I hated for her to do by herself. I was hoping now that she got the job at the hospital she could dump the store hours.

“Yeah, baby,” Mom said, her voice tired.

I pushed open the door, holding the hot cup of coffee I just made for her. She was cuddled up under the new duvet set I bought her for her birthday.

“Hey, I’m sorry to wake you, Mom.” I set the mug down on her white painted wicker bedside table. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” She stretched. “Just tired.”

“I’m heading out for the day. I won’t see you till later. I’m sorry I can’t spend our day off with you, I’m going to a CPR course on Hilton Head Island so I can work beach patrol this summer.”

My mom sat up and pushed her blonde bangs out of her eyes. Her eyes were blue like mine. She was still attractive for her age, and she’d been taking care of herself more lately, which I was glad about. It probably had something to do with her new job at the hospital. It had certainly raised her clothing game from the casual attire she wore at the convenient store.

I perched on the edge of her bed. “So, were you working late last night? I didn’t hear you come in.”

“I went out with a friend,” Mom said, then her eyes shifted to the side, and she reached for her coffee.

“Who?” My tone dripped with suspicion. For a while she’d become friends with a woman she worked with and by extension hung with a really rough crowd. The woman was dating a biker from a biker gang and well, Shona or Shonda, or whatever her name was, was now in prison for aggravated assault. Classy. That was the end of that friendship. Luckily, I got my mom back.

“Nothing’s going on, baby,” she began and I was immediately on edge. “We’re just friends … but Martin asked me out last night for drinks so we could—”

“Dr. Barrett? Are you kidding me?”

“No. No, baby.” She grabbed my hand. “It’s not like that. He just needs someone to talk to. And you know he’d just done me a favor seeing Joey, I couldn’t—”

“Joey was already meeting with him, Ma. All I asked was you put in a good word for him not offer Dr. Barrett a blow job!”

“Jessica!”

I swallowed, my cheeks burning. “Sorry, Mom.”

“Jessica. Jesus.” She flung the covers off and got out of bed.

“I’m sorry. I said sorry.”

“Yeah, well. I know you better than that. You may be sorry for being crass, but you’re not sorry for the message.”

I stood too. “You’re right. I’m not. What did he need to speak about so urgently that he couldn’t wait until Monday morning?”

She walked to the mirror, wincing at her reflection and scraping her dyed blonde hair back into a low ponytail. She grabbed a tissue, wetting it with spittle and dabbing the old mascara beneath her lashes.