AllFreeNovel
Share Us
PROLOGUE
LUXTYN
“What do you want to watch tonight, sweetie? A rom-com or one of those reality TV shows?” my mom asks as she makes herself comfortable on the couch and scrolls through Netflix.
“I’m thinking tonight’s more of a trashy reality TV show kind of night,” I say while pouring the microwavable popcorn into a bowl for us to share.
I walk around the counter and take a seat on the couch, and my mom puts on our most recent bingeable show. “So how was work today?”
“Not too bad,” she says before clearing her throat and adding, “I just. . . well, I have to head to New York City on Friday for a client. There’s an event she has to attend, and she asked me to do her hair for it.”
My jaw drops and I gasp in excitement, but when I take in the apprehension in her voice and the rigidness in her body, my brows furrow. “That’s awesome, Mom, but why do I feel like I’m far more excited for you than you are for yourself?”
She slides her gaze over to me and gives me a tight smile. “Oh, no, it’s very exciting. I just don’t want to leave you, is all.”
“Mom, I’m going to be twenty-three soon. I think I can handle being on my own for a few days,” I say, chuckling.
That straight-lined smile of hers ticks up slightly, and she gives my forearm a light squeeze. “I know, sweetie.”
She averts her attention back to the TV, and I study her for a moment. She’s not angry about going to New York City, but she seems. . . nervous? That doesn’t make any sense, though. Is she really that worried about leaving me alone for a few days? This would be our first time apart for that long, but that’s not something I’ve even thought twice about.
“I promise I’ll be okay while you’re gone, Mom.”
“Of course, Lux. I know you’ll be just fine.”
Her smile brightens this time, but not to its full extent. There’s still something off about it, like she’s holding something back.
“Mom—” She reaches for my arm and gives it another small squeeze.
“You know me. I’m just a little overprotective.” Averting her attention back to the TV, she pops some popcorn into her mouth, silently telling me this conversation is over.
While I’m wondering what else could be the issue, I decide to ignore it but can’t keep from laughing. “I like how your job lets you travel to new places while both of mine just leave me smelling like beer and food by the end of my shifts.”
“You know, you don’t need to work both of those jobs if you don’t want to. We’re doing just fine, you and I. Overworking yourself isn’t a necessity.”
I shake my head. “I really don’t mind. You know I go stir-crazy if I don’t keep myself busy. Besides, I only work at the restaurant a few days a week.” I give her a relaxed shrug. “The extra cash is nice.”
“Well, if you ever decide you want to take a break, just know that we’ll be okay if you do. Good things are happening, and I have a feeling we’ll have more than enough money to get by, okay?”
“I know. Promise,” I say with a smile even though I’m not sure what she means. I do well with my tips, and my mom does well with hairdressing, but “more than enough money to get by” seems like a stretch.
It’s always just been my mom and me my entire life. She was raised in the foster system, and my dad ran out on us before I was born, so we’re the only family each other have. It’s one of the reasons we’re so close.
My mom has spent most of my life supporting us on her own, so maybe me working two jobs is my way of trying to give back and lighten the load she’s carried for the both of us.
I take in her perfectly styled dark waves that come down just past her shoulders, and the smile on her face shifts to a frown, giving me the sense she’s lost in her own thoughts. It reestablishes my suspicions that there’s something else bothering her about New York City. I just don’t know what it could be. . .
1
LUXTYN
“Luxtyn, I need four tequila shots with this beer order.”
I glance up, brushing a dark strand behind my ear, and make eye contact with Macie, who’s leaning over the counter at the opposite end of the bar. She’s holding up her order ticket with the fake smile I’ve grown accustomed to over the past few months.
Apleasewould be nice, but for her to use actual pleasantries around me would probably require a knife to her throat or a gun to her head—something dramatic like that.
Giving her an equally fake smile that will leave me with crow’s feet at far too young of an age if I continue charading it around for people like her, I say, “No problem,” as I head in her direction.
