He then pulled her toward the door, his pocket still vibrating as she checked everything to make sure that Mena was okay before following him out of the room. Once outside, he shut the door slowly before turning to reach for her, pulling her back to his chest, kissing her neck.

“I want you,” he whispered and she let out a breathy laugh.

“Do you?” she asked, turning on the baby monitor.

“Always,” he said, nibbling up her neck and then her ear as his hands explored the abs on her stomach. Slowly dropping his hands into her pants, he cupped her, his breath coming out in a whoosh and making him hard as a rock.

“Why’s my ass vibrating?” she asked as his hand stopped.

“My mom is calling,” he said, continuing to ignore it, but she turned in his arms, looking up at him.

“How many times has she called?”

He paused. “That’s the seventh time,” he said as his phone went off again.

“Should you answer?”

He shrugged, pulling his phone out of his pocket. “I don’t know.”

“She could be dying or something,” she suggested and he nodded.

“So I should answer?”

She gave him a troubled look. “I have no clue, that’s up to you.”

His phone started going off again, and he glanced up at her before hitting accept and saying, “Hey, Mom.”

But Stacey Thomas was anything but a mother and every bit the darkness that shadowed his soul.

“Jordie Scott Thomas, I have been calling you for weeks,” his mother complained. Disappointment and anger laced her words, and for some reason, he felt like he was six again.

Glancing at Kacey, he looked away just as quickly. Sucking in a breath, he went into his room and sat on the bed, leaning on his thighs. “Yeah, sorry, I’ve been busy. Are you okay?”

“Oh, I’m fine! But you wouldn’t know that since you don’t call me at all. How sad. I’m your mother and you can’t even call me.”

Kacey sat beside him and shook her head as he said, “I haven’t heard from you either.”

“Well, that’s ’cause I’ve been so busy! Roger died, God rest his soul. But thankfully, he left me a nice little amount of money to get me by. But then, by the grace of God, I met Phil. Oh Jordie, you’re gonna love him. He is a doll baby and loves me so much! We are getting married on Christmas! You’ll have to come, of course. But he wants to meet you before that, and we are coming to Nashville in about a month. I made sure you weren’t on a trip with the team, and we are even coming to a game. Glass seats! Only the best for me, as Phil says. So I’ll get to watch my baby, up close and personal!”

She didn’t even take a breath and, like always, it was only about her. Feeling like he was in a spinning car, he said, “So you’re okay?”

She paused. “Yes, I’m in love and happy. Have you not been listening?”

“No, I heard you,” he said sullenly. “Figured since you called nine times in a row, you had cancer or something.”

“Well, that is a rude and unthinkable thing to say. Jesus, how did I raise such an asshole for a son?” she snapped and Kacey glared, but he shook his head.

“Okay, Mom, I guess I’ll—”

“Like I was saying, you should be very happy for me. Phil is my age, so pray God he don’t die. And he is loaded, son, so rich and so sweet. I think he might be the winner, the one that lasts. Isn’t that great?” she asked and Jordie let his head hang.

“Yeah, great,” he said, and why couldn’t he just tell her to fuck off? Why was he sitting there, listening to how they went all over the country the last couple months? How he helped her get over whatever-his-name-was’s death? By the look Kacey was giving him, he was sure she thought the same. But he said nothing as she rambled on and on about her life. He sat there. Hoping, praying, she’d ask how he was doing. But the question never came.

“Okay, so we will plan to get together in about a month, I think it’s the twenty-seventh of October. I’ll have Phil make reservations and send you an email. He’s so excited to meet you. He’s a big hockey fan.”

“Um, Mom, I don’t know,” he started, but she cut him off.

“Now, you’ll meet me, Jordie Scott. I haven’t seen you in almost a year because you’re off gallivanting across the country, playing with a stick and puck and whatever else you do. You don’t call, you don’t Facebook me, and you sure as hell don’t act like you care one bit for me. So you’ll be there,” she snapped and he closed his eyes.

Tell her to fuck off.

“Tell her no,” Kacey whispered but he shook his head. He knew he needed to say it. To stay away from her. But the need for approval was still there.

He wanted her to love him.

To be proud of him.

To care about him.

“Is someone there?”

Kacey snapped her mouth shut and he nodded, his throat thick. “Yeah.”

“One of your many sluts, I’m sure. What did she say? I thought I heard her say no. Tell her I’m not another of your sluts, I’m your mother.”

Kacey’s mouth dropped and Jordie shook his head. “It’s my girlfriend.”

She paused. “Like a real girlfriend? You haven’t had one of those since what’s her name, the one whose boyfriend killed that kid you were friends with.”

“Angie, and his name was Robbie,” he said, looking up, a wave of guilt slamming into him.