Give Me Pleasure Chapter 3 Part 1
CHAPTER 3 · PART ONE
Give Me Pleasure
Addison
The phone rang three times before Adele answered. Her short, auburn hair was messy, which was unusual—Adele was obsessed with keeping it perfectly styled.
“I hope I didn’t wake you,” I said, my face wrinkling with worry. It was still dawn in California, and college was hard enough without early-morning calls.
“Nope, you didn’t. But I’m surprised—you never call this early.”
“It was a silly decision—”
“It’s fine, Mom. I’m cool,” she said, flashing the smile I’d always called the Adele smile.
“If you say so.”
“Yeah, I say so. So why did you call?”
“I was wondering which of these two lingeries is better.” I raised both pieces to the camera.
“Seriously, Mom? That’s why you’re calling me at six a.m.?”
She chuckled softly, and before I could reply, Martha popped into view.
“Your mom is turning into a MILF,” she said.
“There’s no way that’s happening,” Adele laughed, “but this is intriguing.”
“What! No fucking way,” a masculine voice chimed in.
“Who’s that?” I asked, my concern sharpening.
“A friend.”
“Are you sure, Adele Daisy Miller?”
Adele burst into laughter—the kind that only came when she’d been caught.
“You called to pick lingerie,” she said. “You’re forgetting that.”
“This is more important.”
“Nothing’s going on between us.”
“Why don’t I believe you?”
“Maybe that’s why you never became a CIA.”
“Seriously, Mom, he’s just a friend. Why doesn’t Michael help us pick?”
“Oh, this is getting interesting,” Martha smirked.
“I won’t let your friend see what I’ll wear for your dad,” I said firmly.
“Relax. Michael is practically gay.”
“That’s not what I said!” the voice protested. “I said my mom thought I was gay because I loved Cinderella.”
He appeared on screen—strong jaw, green eyes, messy blond hair. Too handsome.
“That’s literally the same thing,” Adele teased.
“Whatever nonsense this is, it’s not happening,” I said, tossing the lingerie away.
“Good morning, Mrs. Miller,” he said smoothly. “I’ve heard good things about you.”
“Good morning…”
“Michael,” he supplied.
“Michael. I hope you’re being a good friend to my daughter.”
“Very good. I hugged her all night while she cried over that jerk.”
“You weren’t supposed to say that,” Adele laughed, smacking his chest.
“I’m glad you’re both happy.”
“Happy being friends,” they said together.
“I should go.”
“But Mom, we haven’t picked the lingerie!”
“Don’t be naughty.”
She stuck her tongue out.
“The grey one,” she said. “It suits you.”
“Thank you. Mommy loves you.”
“Love you more.”
“It was nice meeting you, Michael. Please call me Addison.”
“Addison,” he repeated. Too easily.
I ended the call before I could overthink it.
What the hell was wrong with me?
“What was that?” Martha asked.
“What?”
“They’re smashing.”
“I agree with that.”