God, how embarrassing would it be if I was in lust mode when he was here? That can’t happen. What he would think of me. He’d send me on my way, that’s for sure, or at least offer to pay for a hotel or apartment for me, which would be more insulting than anything. I know how careful Maddox is with his money. He has it, but he doesn’t spend it lavishly, not when he grew up in meager settings, knowing exactly what a turn of events can do to a bank account.

I need to turn off the sexual part of my head . . . that or meet Stan for a little knocking of the boots.

Ehh . . . he wasn’t that great. And now that I’ve imagined my best friend sexually—he’s fucking hot, I can admit that—there’s no way I’d even consider tolerating a subpar hookup with Stan. I could find someone else. This is Chicago. Lots of hot men around. Maybe Phinny has a friend. I’ve never met the guy, but he must have some single friends. I’ll text Joan. She’s the type to butt into your business and try to be a matchmaker.

I pick up my phone right after shoving another handful of popcorn in my mouth and type up a text.

Kinsley: Hey Joan. Silly question, but does Phinny have any single friends who might be down for taking out a girl like me?

She starts texting back immediately, but I set the phone down, knowing how long it takes the woman to type. Honestly, I can’t be mad about it, the fact that she even texts is a miracle. I’ve also seen her phone and she has it set to ultra-magnified, so big that I think each word is on its own line.

As I’m waiting, my phone rings. For a second, I think it’s Joan, until I see my mom’s name flash across the screen. Ugh.

I consider not answering and then realize she’s just going to keep calling, so I might as well get it over with right now.

“Hey Mom,” I answer, trying not to sound annoyed. Be open—she might be calling to find out how your first week of work went, not complain about how you’re not home with her.

“Kinsley, my girl. I miss you.”

“Miss you too, Mom.”

“Are you sick of Chicago yet? You know, Mrs. Patterson just made a fresh batch of pies for sale and I thought about you. I bought a vegan blueberry pie hoping I could entice you back here.”

“With a pie?” I laugh. “You’re going to have to try harder than that, Mom.”

“But it’s your favorite.”

“You wouldn’t mind mailing it then, right?”

“Mail a pie? You really think I’m going to trust the postal system to keep it intact? No way. I’ll just have to drive it down and visit you.”

Panic immediately washes over me.

“Uh, no, that’s okay. I’m trying to stay away from sugar right now,” I say even though a half pint of oat milk ice cream is in the freezer. I couldn’t even imagine what I’d do if my mom showed up here. She’d probably have a freaking heart attack knowing I didn’t even have my own bedroom. I couldn’t care less, but she wants only the best for her little girl. She’d also be insulted. How could I leave a loving home, where I had my own bedroom, to sleep on a dilapidated cot in an unfamiliar city? Inconceivable.

She’ll never understand. She grew up in Woodland with my dad. She’s never left the area, never even thought about it. She’s comfortable where she is and that’s totally okay. I admire her loyalty and love for my hometown, but I wanted to venture out, make an impact on a grander scale.

My mom doesn’t get that.

“Why does it sound like you’re trying to avoid me?”

Because I am.

“Not avoiding you, Mom. But I’m still getting my feet wet. Give me a few weeks and then we can plan a fun trip.” One where we stay in a hotel together rather than visit Maddox’s apartment.

“Oh, that sounds like it could be fun. Maybe I could venture down when it’s less humid. More toward the fall. I hear humidity in the cities is positively suffocating, and it just makes the urine smell that much worse.”

“It’s not bad actually. Pretty clean here.”

“Hmm . . . I don’t know about that.”

How can she say that? She’s never even been here. Her comments drive me freaking crazy. You can’t have an opinion on a place you’ve never been, simple as that.

Holding back my anger, I say, “Hey, I have a few errands I have to run, but I can call you a little later in the week. Does that work okay?”

“Oh yes, I guess so. I just miss you, honey.”

“I know, Mom. I miss you too, but I promise I’m doing great. I love my new job, I’m making friends, and I’m eating.”

“And getting plenty of sleep?”

I glance at Clyde, who now is just a mattress on the floor because I’m giving the springs a break. The travel down from Woodland to Chicago wasn’t an easy journey on the old guy.

“Plenty,” I answer, even though my back is sore these days.

“Okay,” she sighs. I do feel a little bad for my mom. I’m her girl, her confidante, her friend, and I left. There is going to be an adjustment period and I need to remember that.

“I love you,” I say, which of course makes her tear up. She eventually hangs up, and that’s when I see the text from Joan.

Joan: I have the perfect fella in mind. I’ll give him your number and you guys can go out on a date. He’s a looker and more than a gentle lover . . . if you know what I mean.

Oh Joan, I know exactly what you mean, and that’s exactly what I’m looking for.

Chapter Ten

MADDOX

“You’re back early,” Kinsley says, looking surprised and like she was just caught red-handed.

And she was, because . . . what the actual fuck did she do to my apartment?

I shut the door behind me and toss my keys on the console.

“Kinsley—”

“I know, I know. I’m cleaning it right now. I didn’t know you were going to be back this early. I thought I had more time. Don’t worry, it’s not—oops, just stepped on a cracker. Where’s your vacuum?”

I don’t answer right away but instead, I take in the living space of my apartment. Clothes are strewn about, draped over the couch, on the coffee table, hanging off the entertainment center. The ironing board is out with no iron in sight, there are mugs everywhere—I didn’t even know I had that many—and there’s a pile of trash stacked on my balcony. What the hell happened here in six days that turned my apartment into a warzone?

I walk over to the entryway closet and pull out my vacuum, feeling like I’m in a haze as Kinsley moves around me cleaning up.

“I honestly thought I had more time, but then Dudley said he wanted to meet tonight so I was like, okay, that sounds like fun, but then I realized I had an hour and a half to get my butt into gear, which meant make a good first impression or clean. I went for make a good first impression, which in return made me try on every outfit I have. I settled on this, what do you think?”

I take in her black jeans and red off-the-shoulder crop top for the first time, noticing how her stomach has small divots on the side, indicating she works out. I was so distracted by the mess that I didn’t even notice her hair is pieced in waves, she has mascara on, and she’s wearing bright red lipstick. She looks really fucking hot.

And . . . who the fuck is Dudley and why is she trying to make a good first impression?

Before I can answer her, she says, “And I’m wearing a strapless bra, just in case you’re wondering, and hating every second of it. My boobs already hate me. But that’s society for you, always repressing the tits of the world.”

She huffs and gathers four mugs in her hands, taking them to the kitchen where she quickly puts them in the dishwasher. “I wasn’t drinking a lot of coffee, if that’s what you’re wondering. I just get lazy and use mugs for everything. They’re the perfect companion for eating. They have a handle, you can stick things in them and scoop them out, and I don’t understand why we don’t spend our lives using mugs for everything.”

I know this about her, so why is she telling me? Is she nervous?

“You’re probably wondering, why is Clyde’s mattress on the floor? I’m just airing him out a bit, giving him a second to breathe. I know I’d want that if someone was sleeping on me every night. Oh, and just so you know, I took the liberty of donating your cleaning products and everything I’ve replaced to Finding Homes. We’re always looking for supplies . . . even if it kills the planet. We take just about anything. Which means we’re one step closer to reducing your carbon footprint. How exciting, right? Oh, and all the boxes and whatnot on the balcony are from the shelter. They don’t have recycling there, so I brought it home so we could recycle it ourselves. And then I was walking to the park down the street the other day, and you can’t imagine the amount of people who throw out things that should be recycled, so I picked the trashcans. Don’t worry, I took a shower.”