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Trust Me: A Bad Boy MC Romance by Cristal Pierre (32)

 

A Step Brother Romance


 

My mother knew how to buy the best coffee. I took a sip and closed my eyes, enjoying the bitter sweet aroma inebriating my senses.

 

“You’re up early,” Mum interrupted my moment.

 

“Morning.”

 

“Good morning, dear.”

 

She leaned and kissed my forehead, her delicate perfume enveloping me like fine silk on my skin. I suddenly felt like crying.

 

“Why didn’t you sleep in? You’re home, dear, you can spoil yourself,” she said, pouring herself a cup of coffee.

 

“I know. I just couldn’t sleep.”

 

She watched me for a while, sipping her coffee in silence.

 

“Is everything alright, honey?”

 

I smiled. “Yes, Mum.”

 

“You’ve been home every weekend this past month. Having trouble at school?”

 

“No, school is fine.”

 

“I can understand how difficult freshman year can be.”

 

“College is fine, Mum. Really.”

 

She squinted at me, incredulous. “Then, what is it?”

 

I couldn’t suppress a sigh.

 

“Speak,” she demanded.

 

“Mum, it’s nothing…” I started to defend myself, when my phone buzzed. I glanced at it and saw Alex’s name. He was calling me but I didn’t feel ready to talk.

 

Mum picked up on my hesitation.

 

“Trouble in Paradise, then?”

 

“I… I don't know.”

 

“Look, honey, if you need to talk, I’m here to listen. Just keep in mind that, if you like this guy, you can get through a lot of crap.”

 

I nodded, uncomfortable to be reminded of Alex’s favorite argument. “If you like me, like you say, you’ll do this for me,” he liked to say whenever he needed me to do something.

 

“You know, your father and I went through a pretty rough patch too. We were in college, just a little older than you are now.”

 

“You did?”

 

“Yeah. We almost broke up.”

 

“But you didn’t.”

 

“No, honey. We made it, got married and had you.”

 

She came to my side and wrapped her arm around my shoulders. I smiled, trying not to think too much of my relationship with Alex. I was home, I didn’t have to deal with anything.

 

“So, what is it?” Mother asked again.

 

“It’s nothing really. Probably just in my head.” I couldn't just tell her something I didn’t even know how to describe. Maybe it was just in my head after all. “Enough about me. How was last night?” I changed the subject.

 

Judging by her smile, Mum had a good time. The idea cheered me up.

 

“It was nice. George is a good man.”

 

“A good man? That’s it?”

 

She laughed. “Oh, honey. It’s not easy to see anything more than that for me. But it’s a good start for now.”

 

Her smile faded as she rested her eyes upon the old framed picture of my father and her adorning the fireplace mantel.

 

Pulling her silk robe around her waist, she approached the picture slowly, as if not to scare the memories it held, and lifted it off the mantel. She gingerly caressed the picture, a sad smile curling her lips as she looked at the man she had loved all her life.

 

I watched her sit on the living room couch, hugging her knees protectively as her eyes welled up with tears.

 

“Mum,” I murmured and stood up.

 

“Yes, dear?”

 

The sun lit her auburn hair in a thousand shades of red. My mother was the most beautiful woman in the world.

 

“Dad would be alright with you dating again, you know?” I said, walking towards her.

 

“I know,” she answered, sniffling. “I know, honey. I just miss him so much.”

 

“I miss him too.”

 

We remained quiet, as I curled next to her, thinking about past times we had shared together.

 

I had the best childhood anyone can hope for, and parents that loved me like the most precious thing. Then, Father got sick.

 

If it weren’t for my mother’s strength, I would’ve been lost from the pain. She had not only taken care of him until his last moments, but had supported me through the hardest time of my life.

 

It had taken me a long time to realize she needed the same support I did. She had been strong for me, but I didn’t know she was crying by herself every night, after she put me to bed like you’d tuck in a small child.

 

I remember hearing her sob one night, and feeling ashamed for my selfishness. I had gotten in bed with her then, and had promised I will be there for her the same way she had been for me. From then on, we had gotten closer every day, helping each other through mourning and back to a normal life.

 

It had been four years now. Lately, I had encouraged her to go out more, maybe even start dating, since I was away for college and I didn’t want her to feel lonely.

 

I wrapped my arms around her, and rested my head on her shoulder.

 

“It’ll be OK, Mum,” I said, settling better in my seat.

 

She leaned against me, and we sat in silence for a while, until I heard my phone buzzing on the kitchen counter again.

 

I sighed, frustrated. I knew it was Alex calling.

 

“It’s alright, honey. Don’t let the boy wait, he might worry.”

 

“He’s not the type to worry, Mum,” I said bitterly, and rose.

 

He had hung up by the time I got to my phone, so I dialed him back. I knew he would be upset so I pulled myself out of earshot for this conversation. I didn’t want Mother to hear this.

 

“What the hell are you doing?” he said without preamble.

 

“I was talking to my mum.”

 

“You know I don't like you not picking up. You’re my girlfriend, you pick up when I call.”

 

“I know, Alex. But I was talking to my…”

 

“You’ve been visiting you mum a lot lately. What can you possibly have to talk to her that’s so important you can't answer my call?”

 

I sighed. “Look, I’m sorry, OK?”

 

“Yeah, right.”

 

“Did something happen?”

 

“I need you here tonight. I got a last minute invitation to a fund raiser that the fraternity is sponsoring and I need to be present.”

 

“But, I only got here last night.”

 

“So, what? I need my plus one this evening. Make sure you wear something pretty, this is a black tie event,” he said and hang up.

 

I pursed my lips, forcing myself not to cry. I doubted this was the sort of rough patch my parents had been through.

 

Drawing a deep breath, I emerged from my temporary hiding place and braced myself to tell Mum I had to leave.

 

“Would she feel better if she knew that I had to go because Alex was keeping me at his beck and call?” I doubted it.

 

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