The Kiss Quotient (The Kiss Quotient 1)
“No.” He was never talking to his dad again.
His mom took a ragged breath and covered her face. “Your Stella was right. He could be hurt. He’s so evil no one would care to help him, certainly not his new woman. She’s only with him as long as the money lasts.”
He fisted his hands as a familiar rage threaded through his muscles. “That amount of money should last a long time.”
“Not the way he spends. He thinks he’s a big shot. Nothing was ever good enough for him, remember?”
Not this again.
Michael clenched his jaw as his mom launched into another retelling of a story he’d heard a thousand times. He sat down next to her and listened with half an ear so he could make the appropriate sounds when she paused.
Words like uses women and bad person and liar stuck out, and he couldn’t help noticing how well they applied to himself. Look at all the lies he told. Look at what he did to pay the bills. Look at him taking money from Stella for doing what any other guy would do for—
Cold horror soaked into him. This was why it had felt so wrong to accept Stella’s proposal. It was wrong. He was taking advantage of her. What kind of man accepted money from a naïve woman to teach her things she could learn for free?
He’d finally taken the last steps and become his dad. That couldn’t be right. That wasn’t him. He was better.
Their arrangement had to end right now. Where was she? Fuck, was she waiting for him outside?
He shot to his feet before his mom’s story was half finished. “I have to go, M?. I’m sorry about . . . tonight, about everything.”
“There’s no need for sorry. If you love her, we’ll learn to love her, too.”
At the mere mention of that word, sweat broke out over his brow. “I don’t.” That made his actions worse, didn’t it?
His mom waved his protest away. “Bring her back another day. M? won’t microwave the plastic when she’s here.”
“You shouldn’t microwave it any time.”
“Yeah, yeah.” She said the words in such a manner that he knew she would continue doing things her way regardless of what she’d been told, and Michael swore to himself he’d throw all her plastic away and replace it with something safe. Right after he spoke to Stella.
“Good night, M?.”
“Drive careful.”
He escaped the house in record time, but he came up short as he stepped outside.
She was gone.
He gripped one of the porch’s wooden support pillars and dragged in deep breaths as his heart rate slowed and his mind cleared. Cool air, the buzzing of bugs, and the distant whir of a car’s motor.
Maybe it was best that she wasn’t here. He needed time to compose a decent parting speech. Something short but nice. It was him, not her, and—
No matter what he said, she was going to cry. The thought twisted his guts into knots. She’d think it was her fault. Because of how awkward she was in bed and out. Because of the unintentional debacle tonight.
He walked to his car and got inside. After he turned the ignition, he sat with his hands on the wheel. He didn’t know where to go. Her place or his? They needed to talk, but he wasn’t ready for her tears on top of his mom’s.
The new box of condoms on the passenger seat caught his eye. He’d bought countless such boxes over the past three years. He hadn’t looked forward to opening any of them as much as this one—because Stella was different. Now, he’d be back to using the contents of the box with countless Fridays of women, providing a simple service for fair payment. It didn’t hurt or take advantage of anyone. That was better than what his dad did. Michael could do that and still be himself. Too bad he didn’t want any of those women like he did Stella.
He pushed the box onto the floor and out of sight before heading to his own apartment. Tomorrow. He’d do the right thing tomorrow.
{ CHAP+ER }
14
Stella completed her bedtime routine in a numb haze. It wasn’t until she laid her head down on her pillow that she started crying.
It was over now. He’d asked her to be good to his family, and she’d made his mom cry. You couldn’t undo something like that.