The One You Can't Forget (The One, #1)

thirty-seven

Hainsey

Ems and I arrive at work an hour late. All I could think about how convenient it was to not have Mrs. Brantford here – she would have lost her shit.

Aside from being late, the day goes well. Ems and I do the usual work: cleaning mountain bikes, filling out the paperwork so people can rent them, and selling retail.

When it's time to close up, Ems invites me over for dinner again. I want to go, but after spending the night away and having the best day of my life, I know I need to get home and check on my mom. She should be okay with her current stash, considering how I went out the night before my birthday and met up with the drug dealer, but I still worry about her. Sometimes the amount she uses scares me – I lay in bed wondering if she'll be breathing in the morning.

As I'm locking the doors up, Ems nudges me in the ribcage. "So when do I get to come over and see your mom?"

Fuck. Can she somehow sense when I'm thinking about my mom?

Tucking away the keys to the shop, I reach for her hand and thread my fingers through hers, squeezing lightly. "Soon," I lie. "Mom's out of town right now. She'll be back in the next few days."

Ems gives me her I'm-not-buying-that-shit look. "Her car is still in the driveway, Hains. It has been for the past couple weeks. Why are you lying to me?"

"I'm not," I insist, unable to look her directly in the eye. "I drove her to the airport – work called and she had to go to Edmonton. I swear."

She contemplates my words for a moment and then nods. "So that's why you were getting in your truck so late the other night?"

My blood freezes. She was awake when I went out to meet the drug dealer and saw me leave? Shit. While the very idea freaks me out, I manage to keep my shit together and nod. "Yeah," I shrug. "Mom's always preferred travelling at night."

Her look of understanding quickly fades back into a frown. "Okay, but what about all those other nights?"

"Other nights?" I ask, playing stupid.

She rolls her eyes. "Oh, come on, Hains. You've been going out late every few nights."

"You've been awake at that time?"

She nudges me again. "I'm not a kid anymore – bedtime is nonexistent."

I sigh, knowing I'm not getting out of this. So I spin another lie: "When I can't sleep at night, I go for a run." I add a shrug for emphasis. "It's no big deal."

I can tell just by the look on her face that she doesn't believe me, but she nods. "Okay. Well, next time you go on one, invite me. I'd rather you not go out alone at that time. Or maybe knock on my window and join me in my room."

It hurts how much she sounds like my mom used to. She cares about me and is concerned about my well-being. I didn't realize how much I've missed that. And that's why I nod my head and agree.