Riding With Brighton(50)

She doesn’t keep him long, and when he comes back to me his expression is confused but happy. I raise my eyebrows at him expectantly.

“She told me she thinks I’m good for you. And that she kind of likes me. And then she sort of hugged me.” He cocks his head.

“That’s huge for her, just so you know.”

“Then she told me she would punch me in the balls if I ever pulled some jockhole move and acted like I didn’t know you.”

“Jockhole?”

“Jockhole.”

“Hmm.”

“She was at that party tonight, right? I mean, she’s gotta realize the jockhole ship sailed a few hours ago.”

“She can’t be all sweet. She’s always gotta throw a little salt in.”

“More like, she’s always gotta slash your flesh open and ground that salt in with both of her little fists.”

“If Molly likes you, I guess that means you’re pretty irresistible,” I tell him while grabbing ahold of his face and backing him into the door so I can kiss him the way I want to, which is hard. And deep.

Within seconds, we’re both panting and groping. But then the light above us turns on, which means someone’s coming out, which means I have to let go of Jay for the moment. I rub my sleeve across my mouth and reach for the doorknob, but Mom’s already on the other side opening it.

“Oh good,” she says, pulling me, and then Jay, inside. “Jay’s with you.” She heads to the kitchen and hops up onto the counter. She picks up my phone and hands it to me. “What’s the point of having this thing if you’re never going to have it on you?”

I lean against the counter, and Jay stands in front of us. “Were you trying to get ahold of me?”

“Your mom called,” she says to Jay. “It sounded kind of urgent.”

“Oh shit,” he mutters, his eyes going all big as he pulls his phone out of his pocket. “Sorry,” he mumbles to my mom.

She waves him off, and we both look at him as he turns his phone on.

Immediately, there is a barrage of beeps alerting him to missed calls and texts. I fight the urge to hold a protective arm in front of my face because it literally feels like we’re being attacked, and I know what kind of war Jay got himself into. I mean, the kid’s popular, but hell, no one’s that popular.

“Fuuck,” he whispers staring at his phone. “Shit,” he says, glancing up at my mom. “I mean, crap, sorry.”

She snickers and asks me, “What’s going on?” I look at her and she gasps, “What happened to your face?” She runs her fingers over my cheek where it’s probably red and swollen. I totally forgot all about it.

“Jay came out at a party and, um, some of his friends didn’t appreciate it.”

“Ah,” she says, looking between me and Jay. “It makes sense now—the call I got from your mom.”

“Oh God,” Jay says, “if she said something rude to you—”

“No,” my mom says, “she just had a lot of questions about Brighton and your friendship with him….”

He mutters something and runs his hands over his face. I walk over to him and wrap my arms around his waist. He falls into me, his hands still covering his eyes. “Shit.”

“Is it bad?” I ask.

He leans back and drops his hands so they’re only covering his mouth. He looks like he’s in shock. Eventually, the hands move to my biceps, and he shakes his head at me. “Um, yeah. I mean, the shit on my phone is pretty much what I expected, but Tyson was there—at the party.”

“Oh shit, your brother was there?”

“Yeah. And he’s not cool with this.”

“And he told your parents?”

“Yeah. I should… call them.”

“Yeah, okay,” I say, releasing him. “You can go in the living room if you want.”

I don’t know if he heard me, but he opts to go sit at the table. I head back over to my mom, and we exchange worried glances. He pulls out his phone and stares at it for a while before finally letting out a long breath and dialing. “Hey,” he says and immediately his leg starts shaking.

Since he decided to go for the nonprivacy route, I feel the need to go sit by him. I pull out a chair so I’m facing him, and then I put my hand on his knee to try and calm it. He stares right at me and, holy shit, does he look terrified.

“I don’t know… I mean, this isn’t how I wanted it all to go down…. Yeah… it’s true.” I can hear a sob come through the phone, and Jay holds it away from his face, closing his eyes and running his free hand through his hair. I scoot my chair closer so my legs are touching his and hold on to both of his legs. It hurts to watch him right now, and I feel completely helpless. There’s nothing I can do. “I’m sorry, Mom, really. I didn’t mean for you guys to find out like this. I had no intention of saying what I did at that party. It just all came out….” There’s another audible sob, and then the muffled sound of a deeper voice. “Hey, Dad,” Jay mumbles. “Yeah, I get it…. No, I understand… I didn’t know he was there. Can I talk to him…? Yeah, no that’s fine… I know he doesn’t…. Yeah, I’m okay…. No, that’s not a problem. I’ll just see you guys tomorrow…. I love you too, and I’m sorry.”