LOL: Laugh Out Loud (After Oscar, #2)(85)

I’d tried to go back to him, to stand by his side and support him—prove to him how strong I was, that I could handle it so long as we were together—but my mother had clutched my elbow and dragged me away. “We can’t let them see us,” she’d hissed.

And I’d suddenly understood.

I’d thought the look of anger and resignation on his face had been because of the sudden appearance of the paparazzi. But in that moment, I’d realized I’d been wrong, It was because of me. And my mom. The tabloid press had arrived and Roman’s first thought had been to get me and my mom out of sight. It wasn’t that I thought he was embarrassed by us. I knew better than that at this point. But we were still trouble. We were a complication he didn’t need right now even if he didn’t think the worst of us. He needed steady, and I was anything but.

The realization cut me deep.

It was all my fault. Every ounce of chaos bombarding him was because of me. I’d been the one to encourage Marigold in her loony schemes. I’d been the one to invite Larry and Lolo to stay, I’d been the one who told Roman to invite Polly to Vermont, I hadn’t been able to get my own mom to leave, and I’d even been the reason Diana, Earl, and the girls were here to get mixed up in it all. Roman had come here to relax and lie low.

And now his entire world was caving in on him and it was all because of me.

I was trembling by the time I reached the den. I went straight to the empty fireplace, hoping that the memory of heat and light might warm the chill that was slowly swallowing my heart. Behind me, my mother quietly closed the door and stood for a moment. I knew she was watching me, considering me, waiting for me to turn and yell at her for selling Roman out to the tabloids. After all, how else would they have known where to find him?

But I was suddenly too exhausted.

It was too much, all of it. It was the kind of chaos that always followed me, that found me no matter where I hid. I thought that if I was careful, I would be able to keep it at bay, keep it from interfering in Roman’s life, but today had been a sobering wake-up call.

Roman wanted security and peace. I was anything but that. I was boisterous and trouble and loud and inappropriate in every way. The notion of me on the red carpet, or at a high-end restaurant—even the barest thought of having to learn how to travel in those circles made my chest tighten with anxiety. I wasn’t made for that kind of life. I was a kid from the streets—no formal education, no polish, no money.

“I didn’t sell Roman’s location to the paparazzi,” my mother finally said quietly.

I lifted a shoulder. What did it even matter anymore? They were here. Me and my mom couldn’t be trusted. That was that.

She moved farther into the den, drawing closer. “Scotty, I know you think I did, but I didn’t.”

“If not this time, you would have next time,” I said, my voice sounding weak and tired. “I saw the gleam in your eyes when you heard Polly talk about her baby’s father. You’re always going to look at the world with dollar signs attached to everything.”

She didn’t say anything for a long moment. I glanced over to find her staring at me, her eyes bright with unshed tears. The woman could cry on a dime. It was one of her more effective cons. “Don’t,” I warned her.

“You love him, don’t you?”

I looked back at the empty fireplace, the ashes still scattered across the stone hearth. The answer was yes. I knew it instantly. Like a lock clicking open, a truth finally acknowledged. It seemed impossible that I could fall in love with someone in such a short period of time, but sometimes that’s how love worked.

I’d fallen in love with Nugget the moment I’d smoothed my hand down her neck and felt her nose nudge my shoulder.

“It doesn’t matter,” I told her.

She pressed her lips together and started to slowly circle the room, her eyes taking in the bookshelves, the decor, the artwork. I wondered if she was looking for something to filch, so I was surprised when she said, “I didn’t love your father.”

I snorted. “Great, that makes me feel better. Thanks, Mom.”

“In fact I’ve only ever been in love with one person in my life,” she said.

She was behind me now, so I had to turn to ask the question. “Who?”

“You, of course.”

I rolled my eyes. “That doesn’t count.”

“It does too,” she insisted. “There isn’t a thing in this world I wouldn’t do for you, Scotty.”

“You mean like give up grifting?” I asked bitterly.

She took a sharp breath, and I noticed a flash of irritation in her eyes. “It’s the only thing I’ve ever been good at, Scotty. And it was the only way I could keep us safe and put food on the table.”

“Sure,” I said, crossing my arms. “Blame me. It’s my fault you had to defraud people so you could take care of me.”

She’d come full circle around the room and now stood next to me. She held out a hand and tentatively rested it on my shoulder. I realized belatedly the familiar acrid scent of cigarette smoke that had always drifted around her was missing. In fact, she hadn’t smelled like cigarettes since she’d arrived. Before I could ask her about it, she spoke. “I would never intentionally hurt you. I saw the way you looked at Roman, I figured out how you felt about him. Love like that is priceless—I wouldn’t sell it for anything.”