Play Me : A Standalone Romance (Spotlight Collection Book 1)

by Cary Hart

  “Yes! That—it’s what I want for you.” Grans takes my hand, holding it between both of hers. “I want you to experience what I had with your grandfather. I want you to learn to live life and love it, not be bogged down with a schedule. You are a twenty-four-year-old man with a curfew, because of me.” Grans turns her head, silently speaking to my mom. “I don’t want to be your promise anymore.”

  “Grans.” I begin to pace the room. “You aren’t just a promise. You are my mom. You are everything to me. I can’t lose you. Let me have this.” I stop in front of her begging. “Let me be there for you.”

  “Lee.” My mom pushes herself off the counter. “I’m not here to take your place. I’m here to help.” To everyone else, I’m sure she seems sincere, putting on a show as she reaches for Grans’ hand, but I know better. “I’m here to help you.”

  “Thank you, Sammy-Jo.” Gran gives her a tight smile.

  Watching their exchange, I can see that they have a history. A

  whole lifetime before me, but I still can’t help but think she has an ulterior motive for doing this.

  “You’re welcome, Mother.” She pulls Grans in for a side hug, rubbing circles on her back as she continues. “Presley and I will have a little talk and work all this out.”

  “Sure, Mom. Let’s get right on that.” I head for the door, Katie stepping out of my way. “In private. I have a few things I want to get off my chest.” I’m out the door before she has a chance to decline.

  I should have stayed. I should have called Katie and asked her to spend the night with Grans because right now, I could have Ellie wrapped up in my arms. Instead I’m here, trying to protect my future from my past.

  Chapter Twelve

  Lee

  I have no clue who she thinks she is, but I’ll be damned if she thinks she’s going to walk into this house and claim it as her home, because she’s sadly mistaken.

  “Presley.” My mom quickly follows me out. “I think you—”

  “I’m going to stop you right there,” I snap, standing still, careful not to get too close. “You don’t get to call me that.”

  “It’s your name.”

  I laugh. I laugh because it’s her only defense. I laugh because she thinks I want a name she gave me. I laugh because I’m here, in this situation, arguing with a woman who thinks she has the right.

  “Yes, you are exactly right. It’s the name you gave your child. The same child you abandoned while you were off trying to…what was it you called it? Oh yeah.” I bring my hands up, making air quotes. “Make it big. Well guess what? The name went when you did.”

  “Lee,” she pleads, as if it really matters. This woman doesn’t have a caring bone in her body.

  “Hey, you’re a fast learner.” I applaud.

  “Okay. You know what, Lee, why don’t you get whatever you have against me off your chest, because I’m not going to get a word in edgewise until you do.” She throws up her hands, walks across the front porch, and takes a seat on the second step. “Have at it, son.”

  Son.

  I roll my head from side to side, trying to shake it off. Son. It’s not a term of endearment, it’s not even a name. When she says it I feel like she’s marking me. She has no right to me. Everything I have is because of her parents.

  I open then close my mouth, trying to find the right words. If I’m going to do this, fight with her, then I’m going to get some answers in the process.

  “I hate you,” I seethe. “I hate you for loving the industry more than you love your family. I hate you for being so fucking obsessed with making it that you flung yourself at every goddamned tour bus. I hate that you don’t even know who my father is. Fucking your way through a band. Hoping to trap just one. How did that work for you, Mom?”

  I clasp my hands behind my head. I just watch. Daring her to say something.

  “At first, Grans lied to me. When you were gone weeks at a time, she told me you were on tour with these big bands. That you were, you are going to love this.” I laugh hysterically, taking a few steps closer, then stopping. “Grans said,” I bend over, resting my hands on my knees to look her straight in the eye, “you are so talented and that someday you are going to be somebody I can be proud of.”

  Pushing myself upright, I pace back and forth, catching glimpses of her each time I pass by until I stop right in front of her. We lock eyes. “ALL. LIES.”

  Inhaling, I wait.

  Nothing.

  Exhaling, I wait.

  Nothing.

  “Maybe I’m being too hard on you?” I tap my finger rapidly against my lips before I continue. “Maybe I should be thanking you?” I close the distance between us. “Mind if I have a seat?” I point to the empty spot next to her.

  Not saying a word, she searches my face for a hint of what I’m doing, then scoots over.

  “Thanks, Mom.” I reach over and squeeze her knee. “Thank you.” I pause. “Thank you for leaving and giving me the opportunity to have the best parents anyone could have asked for. For allowing me to grow up feeling loved. Every. Single. Day. For having someone teach me how to work hard. How to believe in myself. To treat others how you want to be treated. To be there when someone needs you.” I give her knee once last squeeze before I reach up and with one finger, turn her face to mine and say the two words I know will burn. “To stay.”

  I stand and quickly turn around, walking backward. “So, thank you.” I throw my head back to the night sky, hands clenched in the air, and shout, “Best. Mom. Ever.”

  “You spoiled little brat.” She’s up and running toward me and shoves me when she reaches me. “You think you know?” She pushes me again. “You have no idea about me or my life.”

  “That’s right, Mom. How would I?” I grab her hands as she goes to shove me again. “You left. I had no choice but to not know you.”

  “God!” She squints her eyes, letting out a deep breath. “I was so young and made so many mistakes. I know I messed up with you, but I wasn’t right. In here.” She taps her temple. “Or here.” She grabs her chest.

  “I needed you.” It’s a simple response. Not one of rage as moments ago, but a simple statement from a boy who desperately wanted his mom.

  “I know.” She shrugs a shoulder, her lips tight, and tears escape. “And I regret every single day I was gone because it turned out what I thought I was missing wasn’t what I was running toward. It’s what I was running from. It was you.”

  “Why now, Mom? Why come back?”

  “Your Grans called. Made me an offer I couldn’t refuse.”

  “There it is. I knew it.” I throw my hands up. “You know what? You really did have me there for a minute.” I walk past her. “Maybe you should have tried your hand at acting because I’m pretty sure that was an Oscar-worthy performance.” I’m almost to the steps before I turn around and unload on her again. “It wasn’t enough you had to take all Grandfather’s insurance money, but you couldn’t even come back to help Grans? You had to have an offer? What? Is she paying you? Write you back into the will? Ohhhhh, the house? What is it, Mom? What’s the offer?” I ask the million-dollar question and reach out for the railing to brace myself for the answer.

  “Oh Presley.” She edges her way toward me.

  “Lee,” I bark out.

  “Lee, you have no clue what you’re talking about.”

  “Enlighten me.”

  “The insurance money? I guess you can say I used it. Your Grans,” she points toward the house, “used it to pay for my rehab. The offer? Was you.”

  “Me? I don’t get it.” I look toward the house, needing a break from her lies.

  “I didn’t leave you because I wanted to. I left because I had no choice. They gave me an ultimatum. Lose the drugs or lose you,” she confesses, now standing right in front of me. “I was sick. I was sick, broke and had no place to go. I tried rehab. I exhausted all their resources, drained their savings. At the time I thought they didn’t love me and taking you was their punishm
ent, but now I know it was the only thing they could do. Lee, honey, I had to want to help myself before I could be helped.”

  “Then why didn’t you come back after rehab?” I look down at the woman I thought I knew, but in reality, I don’t know her at all. I’m beginning to think I don’t know the woman inside the house either.

  “I was afraid,” she confesses. She wraps her arms around my waist and my body stiffens. “Of rejection.”

  “Mom,” I whisper.

  “I know I made mistakes. I missed out on all those years with not only you, but my parents, too.” Tears begin to soak my shirt, but I don’t care. I let her continue. “My father died thinking I was the same person you thought I was. And my mother, whom I have begged time and time again to forget the past, is not only going to forget it, but she

  is going to lose the only good I had with them as well.” Her confession is too much for her to bear and her body begins to tremble as sobs rack her body.

  Tonight, everything has changed, yet it’s still the same. At a loss for words, I find myself doing the only thing I can do, I hug her back. I comfort the woman who was never there to comfort me, because of the woman in that house. The same woman who taught me compassion but also robbed me of a life of truth.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Ellie

  A soft rap on the door has me jumping out of bed and checking the time.

  He said noon!

  Running into the bathroom, I dig around for a hair tie and pull my hair up on top of my head as the rapping continues to get louder and louder.

  “Coming!” I holler as I search through last night’s clothes to find a bra.

  There it is.

  I slide it on as the knock becomes a pounding. Hurrying, I down a cap full of mouth wash, not even bothering to spit it out. I run to the door, sliding to a stop.

  I take a second to calm my breathing, place a hand on the frame and slowly open the door. “I thought you said—”

  “About time!” Rain pushes past me, bag in one hand and a drink in the other. “I’ve been basically walking the streets all morning picking up goodies for you.”

  “Is that for me?” I point to the cup in her hand.

  “Uh-huh!” She smiles. “I’ll give you one guess as to what it is.” Rain waves it in front of me as she plops down on the bed.

  I climb on and sit cross-legged in front of her, ready for whatever she has for me. “Ginger tea with two teaspoons of honey?”

  “Oh shit! Are you playing this weekend?” She doesn’t wait for my answer. “I made sure to check with Jake this morning. Called him up and demanded to know your schedule. He said you were off, but maybe he was telling me to fuck off.” She sticks her hand out for me to take the cup.

  “I’m off the whole weekend, but I’m pretty sure the f-bomb was dropped before the off.” I let out a little chuckle, grabbing the cup.

  “It’s your favorite,” she replies while digging through her bag full of presents.

  “Caramel Macchiato with coconut milk, extra caramel, extra whip?” I question, even though I already know the answer. I love those things, but my old voice coach used to swear drinking milk creates phlegm—a huge no-no on performance day. All the research I had done said otherwise, but I wasn’t about to chance it.

  “Yup!” She bounces up and down, apparently finding what she was looking for. “And LEMON POUND CAKE.”

  “Sweet!” I reach out, but Rain yanks her hand back. “They only had one, but since I’m an amazing friend,” she tosses it at me, “I’m going to let you have it.”

  Leaning toward her, I inhale and bust out in laughter. “You had a sausage, cheddar, egg sandwich, didn’t you?”

  She puts her hands up and shrugs. “I couldn’t help it. Last night they made me eat this leafy stuff with vegetables.”

  “You mean a salad?” I tear off a piece of lemon loaf and pop it in my mouth, then let a moan escape.

  “That too, but I’m telling you, last night was some weird shit. Even for my parents.” She sets the bag down in front of me. “They had me wrapped in a white sheet, toga-style. Which, I do have to say, I looked really good. So, if you know of any toga or Halloween parties, I’m game. Anywho, that is neither here nor there.” She hops off the bed and lies on the floor. “They had me lying in the middle of the garden. Like this.” Rain then sits up, rolls over and sits on her knees and continues, “And then they did this whole worshipping thing, where they bowed down, but when they came up, they squealed like pigs and their hands were flailing everywhere.” She continues to mock them, causing me to spit my coffee everywhere.

  “Rain!” I laugh.

  “Welcome to my life.” She climbs back on the bed. “Aren’t you going to open the rest?” She nods toward the bag.

  “I was waiting for the show to finish.” I give her a big, toothy grin while I dig my hand into the bag and pull out the first item. “Kitchen Lemon Soap! My favorite!” I bounce up and down, causing the bag to fall over and the rest of the contents to fall out.

  I can’t help it. I love all things lemons. Candy, cookies, cake, soap. Hell, I even love lemon-scented cleaner.

  “You idiot!” She tosses the empty bag over her shoulder.

  “Hey! You better pick that up. I’m my own housekeeper now,” I tease while I go through the rest of the gifts. “Vanilla ChapStick.” I pop off the lid and glide the balm over my lips, smacking them together.

  “I figured you may need some more since I never see you without it.”

  “I’m on my last stick. Thanks.” I lean over, placing it on my nightstand. “Let’s see. A package of my favorite picks and a box of condoms.” My eyes widen in surprise. “Rain! What are these for?”

  “Oh, baby girl, if I have to explain that to you, then we have some bigger problems.” She cranes her neck, trying to look into the kitchen. “Do you have any bananas?”

  “Rain!” I smack her arm. “I know what they are for.”

  “Whew! That could have been uncomfortable.” She takes a deep breath and exhales. “Okay.” She slaps the bed. “I have something else for you.” She pats down the down comforter. “It has to be here somewhere.” Rain lifts up her leg. “Here it is.” She pulls out a small, black bag. “And here you go.”

  Looking between the bag and her, I ask, “What’s this?” I take the bag and open it to find a new cell phone. “Rain!”

  “I hate that I can’t text you in the middle of the night.”

  “You just hate you can’t track me on that app you installed on my old phone.” I laugh, ripping open the box.

  “Hey, it was for your protection.”

  “Sure.” I realize that just yesterday she had barely enough money for a taco. How in the hell could she afford all this? “Rain?”

  “Mmm-hmm?” She hops off the bed, picking up the bag and the rest of the trash.

  “Where did you get the money to pay for all this stuff?” I hold up my phone. “This phone probably cost—”

  “It’s one of those disposables, but they assured me that when and if you decide to go with a provider, your number will switch over.”

  “You asked questions. How grown-up of you.” I nod. “But seriously. Where?”

  “Geesh. Why can’t you just take the gifts and shut up.” She reaches for the condom box. “Maybe I’ll just keep these.”

  “Not a chance.” I grab them and throw them in my nightstand.

  “Ohhhh, so Mr. Rough Hands really is Mr. Doable?” Rain smirks.

  “Changing the subject. Nice.” I put my hands on my hips. “The money?”

  “Fine.” She huffs. “Last night my parents got into their special herbs. You know, the ones that have their own ‘special’ house?”

  “Ohhhhh!” I nod, curious as to where she is going with this. Her parents have been known to light up a time or two—a day.

  “Well, this stuff must have been good because I was joking around and told them I needed three hundred dollars to donate to an El Nino Go Fund Me page
and they gave it to me.” She starts laughing hysterically. “You get it? You’re El and your bank account is Nino.”

  “You dork. Nino is boy in Spanish. I think you meant nada.” I fall back into the pillows and let out a sigh.

  “Same difference.” She comes to lay by me.

  I turn my head to take a look at the girl who has become like a sister to me, a no-questions-asked friend. As crazy as she is, I can’t imagine her not being in my life. “Thank you for everything.”

  “It’s just a phone, and I did it for purely selfish reasons.” She reaches over, grabbing it from my hand.

  “Hey!”

  “I’m programming my number in,” she defends herself, before puffing up her hair, making a face, and snapping a cute selfie for her contact image.

  “Seriously if it weren’t for you, I don’t know where I would be right now.” I can’t help but recall the day I lost everything.

  “I can tell you. You would be homeless or hijacking your way to Nashville.” She climbs out of bed and starts to grab her things.

  “You mean hitchhiking?” I call after her.

  “Yeah! That too.” She slings her bag over her shoulder. “Listen, I have to get going. Do you want to meet up later?

  “Actually, Lee is coming to pick me up at noon.” I roll over, pulling the comforter with me.

  “That’s an hour from now.” She holds up her phone. “You better get a move on it. You still smell like last night.” Rain pinches her nose, while continuing. “Love ya! Text me.”

  “Back at ya!” I call after her.

  As much as I want to lie here, the need to see Lee is greater. Rolling out of bed, I head to the bathroom where I already have everything laid out. Glancing in the mirror, I notice I look different.

  Content.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Lee

  I couldn’t sleep. I tried, but given the turn of events last night, I didn’t see it happening anytime soon. So, I did the one thing I knew would calm my nerves. I went to the garage to fiddle around, see where the night took me. I just didn’t expect it to take me through the night and into the early morning.