The Pool Boy (Nashville Neighborhood 2) - Page 77

She shrugged. “I guess you should have thought about that before you went behind my back. I’m sure one of your friends has a couch you can sleep on.”

He considered her statement for a long moment, then abruptly lunged for the box. His tone was forced indifference. “Yeah, sure.” He tucked it under his arm and walked to the back of his SUV. “Or I could crash at my girlfriend’s house.”

I could hear the needle drag across the record playing in Jenna’s head. “What?”

He carried on with loading the box into his Jeep while I stood dumbfounded. Maybe if I held perfectly still, they would forget I was here.

Fat chance.

She glared at me with so much accusation in her eyes, it was a miracle I stayed on my feet. This power struggle was classic Jenna. She was a storm. She’d get all worked up, only for her emotions to peter out, and then she’d be able to see reason. I just had no idea how long her category five hurricane was going to last.

“Don’t be ridiculous. She can’t be your girlfriend,” she announced.

He didn’t miss a beat. “You don’t get a say in who I date. How many more times do I have to tell you that?”

She stared at her son like he’d lost his mind. “She’s too old for you.”

“Nope.” He hauled another box up into his arms and shot me a grin. “I think she’s just right.”

Jenna made a sound of pure dissatisfaction, and her hands curled into fists. She was so upset she was shaking, and while I hated seeing my friend in distress, I couldn’t help but wonder if this would be good for her long-term. She needed to give him a chance to be his own man. To be independent.

Didn’t she understand her attempts to shield him had also prevented him from learning the lessons that failure could teach?

“Look,” he said pointedly, “we’re sorry we lied, and it’s not a great excuse, but the way you’re acting right now? It’s exactly why we didn’t want to tell you.”

I pressed my fingertips to my forehead and massaged the wrinkle forming there. During the drive over, he’d reassured me he would handle it, so I’d tried to stay quiet. The last thing I wanted was to come between them more than I already had.

Yet, as I stood there, my irritation with Jenna began to grow. She had every right to be upset. I’d been a terrible friend. But him? “Are you throwing your son out . . . because you don’t like who he’s dating?”

Her face turned an ugly shade of red as it swung toward me. “I’m not talking to you.”

“That’s fine. You can be as mad at me as you want. I deserve it.” I cast a hand toward him. “But he doesn’t. Let him be free to do what he wants. He’s an adult, Jenna.”

“Don’t you dare lecture me! Adult or not, he’s still my son. I know that doesn’t mean shit to you, but I’m trying to stop him from making some truly awful decisions.”

She didn’t say it, but it was implied by her glare, and I sensed the heat rising in Troy. Which was ironic, since his tone was frosty. “Okay, so Erika’s good enough to be your friend—your best friend—but still not good enough for me?”

His mother threw her hands up and looked around like she couldn’t believe no one else was nearby to hear this ridiculousness. “No, she’s not good enough and she’s not my friend. Because if she were, she wouldn’t have slept with you!” She couldn’t seem to catch her breath. “Troy. This is unacceptable, and all I’ve ever wanted is what’s best for you.”

“No,” he said. “All you’ve ever wanted is what’s best for you.” His posture was tense and confrontational. “You don’t care about what I want.”

She gasped. “Of course, I do.”

“Really? Do I even like working for Bill’s company?”

His question should have been rhetorical because even I knew the answer, and yet . . . she looked confused. As if she’d never even considered it.

His harsh tone left no doubt. “I told you—oh my God—so many times! But you only hear what you want. If you’d listened, you could have talked Bill out of offering his company to me. Instead, you pushed me into that situation and forced me to make everyone unhappy.”

Unease seeped into the edge of her expression, because she knew there was some truth in what he’d said, and she worried she was losing control of the conversation. “I heard you, but it’s such a good company. Steady and reliable—”

He sighed loudly and stared up at the sky. “You’re proving my point, Mom, that what I want doesn’t matter.”

Jenna stood in her driveway, struggling with the wild swing of emotions going through her. Rage at me battled with her guilt over controlling him, and it put her off-balance. “What you want matters, Troy.”

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