Letting My Brother's Best Friend Take My V-Card (Jessie and Luke) novel Chapter 318

WHIPLASH 

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WHIPLASH 

LAURA 

The door had barely clicked shut behind Josh when my mother turned to me, her eyes glassy and unfocused. The smell of vodka clung to her like a second skin. I stood frozen, still reeling from the whirlwind of emotions that had followed Josh’s visit. My cheek throbbed where the ice pack had once rested, and the dull ache in my nose pulsed in time with my heartbeat. 

“You didn’t have to embarrass me like that,” I said quietly, my voice barely above a whisper. But I wasn’t quiet enough. 

My mother let out a sharp laugh, the kind that always set my nerves on edge. “Oh, please, Laura. Don’t be so dramatic. I was just having a little fun.” 

“Fun?” I repeated, incredulous. “You were hitting on Josh! A boy from my school. He’s my age, Mom!” 

She shrugged, pouring herself a glass of something amber from the cabinet, her movements too careless to be sober. “So what? He’s cute. And he seemed interested.” 

I stared at her, my mouth opening and closing as I tried to find the right words. “You’re unbelievable,” I finally managed. “Do you even hear yourself? He was uncomfortable! He didn’t know how to handle you because you’re–you’re an adult! You’re supposed to be the one setting an example!” 

She took a sip of her drink, her expression indifferent. “Don’t 

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lecture me, Laura. I’ve had a long day. You wouldn’t understand.” 

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I felt the anger bubbling up in my chest, hot and uncontrollable. “Of course, I wouldn’t understand! I’m not the one getting drunk in restaurants and bringing home men who-” I cut myself off, shaking my head. “You’re a mess, Mom. And you don’t even care.” 

Her gaze hardened, and she slammed the glass down on the counter. “Watch your tone, young lady. You think you’re so much better than me? Sitting here in the house your father left you, acting like you’re some kind of martyr?” 

Tears burned in my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. “This house is the only thing keeping you here. If Dad hadn’t put it in my name, you’d have sold it by now and left me in the dust. You don’t care about me, Mom. You never have.” 

Her palm connected with my cheek before I even saw it coming. The sharp crack echoed through the room, and I stumbled back, the pain radiating from my already sore nose down to my jaw. The world seemed to stop for a moment, and all I could hear was the ringing in my ears. 

I raised a hand to my cheek, my fingers trembling as I touched the tender skin. Tears blurred my vision, but I refused to let them fall. Not in front of her. 

“You’re not my mother,” I whispered, my voice shaking with the effort it took to keep from breaking. “Not really.” 

Her expression didn’t change. If anything, she looked bored, like I was just another inconvenience in her already miserable day. Without a word, she turned back to the cabinet and pulled out a 

WHIPLASH 

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bottle of whiskey, pouring herself another drink as if nothing had happened. 

I stood there momentarily, the ice pack dangling from my hand, my chest heaving with the weight of everything I wanted to say but couldn’t. Finally, I turned and headed for the stairs, my legs trembling with each step. 

The sound of her pouring another drink followed me to my room, where I shut the door and locked it behind me. I leaned against it, my hand still pressed to my throbbing cheek, and let out a shaky breath. This was the worst day ever.