CHAPTER 20
I LAY WITH my head on Luke’s chest, threading my fingers through the smattering of blond hair that led to the good bits. We’d had our workout for the afternoon—Luke had certainly put in an effort holding me up against the wall. I was debating whether I could muster up the energy to go down on him when “Nightmare” by Avenged Sevenfold blared out from his phone.
He raised his head and groaned. “Shit.”
“Just leave it.”
“I can’t. It’s my mother.”
Ah, yes. Mothers. In Lower Foxford, ignoring a call from one was probably punishable with a lifetime ban from the country club. He grabbed the phone from the nightstand and jabbed his finger at it.
“Yes, Mother?”
The woman’s cut-glass accent and lack of a volume control meant I heard every word.
“I’m just going to drop Tia off with
