“Well, you know I’ve been trying to get out of Woodland for a while now but it’s been hard given my job and the pay.”

“Yeah.” I draw the slope of her neck, trying to make my lines as smooth as possible to represent how soft it looks.

“Well, I got a job offer in Chicago—”

“What?” I pause my strokes. “Seriously?”

“Yup, it’s with Finding Homes. They connect animals whose owners are terminally ill with a family who can take care of the animal.”

“Shit, that’s depressing. I can see why you’re upset about it.”

“No, that’s not why I’m upset. I really love their work. It’s why I applied. All I kept thinking about was all those people who were dying and wanted to make sure their pets were taken care of. It gives them peace of mind, you know?”

Still depressing, but Kinsley has the most beautiful heart I’ve ever seen, so I can see why she’d want to work with an organization like that.

“Okay, so what’s the problem? If you got the job, isn’t that exciting?”

“Yeah, but then they told me the salary.” She sighs. “There’s no way I could afford to live in Chicago on that amount. At least not at first. They said they’re looking at a huge partnership with Barking Tails, the Organic Dog Food brand. If they can land the partnership it would change everything. More money, new facilities, more quality accommodations for transferring animals. But they won’t know about it until the end of the year probably.”

“And you need to accept now.”

“Pretty much.” She sighs again. “So that’s where I am, trying to put a positive spin on all of this. I guess . . . I mean . . . I could say . . .”

As her brain spins in all different ways to turn this into a positive moment, my brain spins as well, but for a completely different reason.

This is a dream job for her.

And she’s going to turn it down because of the cost of living?

Fuck that.

“Take the job and stay with me for a bit.” But the moment the words fall past my lips, I realize what a huge mistake I just made. Shit.

Chapter Two

KINSLEY

“What did you say?” I ask, my breath catching from what I think he just said. “Did you just say I could stay with you?”

He doesn’t answer right away, but instead clears his throat. “I mean, not forever, just until the partnership figures itself out.”

“You’re serious. You would be willing to sacrifice your bachelorhood and sex schedule to allow me to stay with you?”

He lightly chuckles and says, “Kinny, I never bring anyone back to my place. You should know that. I like my privacy.”

“Ugh, I forgot, you have a hotel sex den. So barbaric.”

“Insults? Really? After I offered you my place to stay so you could take a job you really want and finally move out of your parents’ house?”

“Huh, did I ever tell you how much I like your hair?”

His laugh booms over the phone and I smile to myself. That sound right there, the full-on guttural laugh that I only get from him on the rare occasion, it’s perfect. Throaty, deep, and real. I love hearing it, as it reminds me of the boy I grew up with. Maddox Paige has an intimidating presence. He rarely lets anyone other than those in his inner circle see his true self, which means the laugh I just heard doesn’t make many appearances.

“Can’t hear compliments about my hair enough.”

“So manly and scary. Just what you were going for, right?”

“Yeah, that’s exactly what I tell my stylist when I sit in the chair,” he says sarcastically. “Please give me the manly, yet scary haircut.”

“I hope you tipped well, because they nailed it.”

He sighs heavily. “You’re so ridiculous.”

“And yet you still keep coming back for more and say crazy things like hey, you can move in with me.” I grow serious and say, “Do you really mean that, Maddie? I can stay with you?”

“I mean . . . yeah. I want you to be happy, babe,” he says, his voice incredibly sincere. “I know how much you’ve been looking to leave Woodland, getting away from your mom, starting something new, so you can’t say no to this opportunity because of housing, especially when I live here.”

“Yeah, but won’t I drive you crazy?”

He chuckles. “Probably, but I’m also in the middle of the season. I’ll be in and out on away trips, we won’t be stepping on each other’s toes too much.”

“Okay, but don’t you have a one-bedroom place?”

“Again, yes, but you can hang out in the living room. I can get an air mattress or something.”

“Mm-hmm,” I hum. “Are there any rules? Or can I live my life freely?”

“Ground rules,” he says quickly. “There will be ground rules.”

He knows me too well to let me run loose. The thought of his eyes panicking when he quickly stated ground rules makes me chuckle.

“What kind of ground rules? Like socks on the door?” I tease, curling my legs into my body. I’ve missed his voice so much, and it’s made my heart ache.

“I told you, I don’t bring people back to my place. I like my privacy.”

“I’m not talking about you, I’m talking about me. What if I meet THE MAN when I’m in Chicago? Should I put a sock on the door if we’re rocking it out on the floor of the living room?”

In the most serious tone I think I’ve ever heard him use, Maddox says, “If I’m not bringing home people, neither are you. I don’t want anyone knowing where the hell I live. So if you want to fuck, create your own hotel sex den, as you like to call it.”

I fluff my hair. “I have more class than that.”

“Says the girl who lost her virginity in the back of a rusty pickup outside the Feed and Seed.”

“That’s called spontaneity and a great use of our resources.”

“Call it what you want, but the class in you is hard to find at times.”

He’s not entirely wrong. I’ve been known to do some less than society approved things like run down Main Street completely naked because I was dared to or peeing in a dumpster because I was too lazy to find a toilet. Not my finest moments, and I’m sure they’re things Maddox remembers vividly since he was there both times. Luckily he covered his eyes when I stripped down. He only saw the full moon as I ran away.

Smiling, I say, “Moving on. What are the other ground rules?”

“No animals.”

“But—”

“I’m fucking serious, Kinsley.” Yikes. My full name. He means business. “No animals. I don’t want anything with four legs in my apartment, got it?”

“That’s a hard one because—”

“Non-negotiable. No animals.”

I bite my bottom lip and squeeze my eyes shut, my heart wavering back and forth. He really knows how to hit me hard.

“Kinsley . . .”

Ugh . . . he’s so mean.

“Okay, fine. No animals. What else?”

“Keep your girly shit to yourself. You’re messy, and I don’t want that mess spreading all over my space. You can have a corner that can be your mess and that’s it.”

“I’m not messy.”

“Last time you were here, I thought I was wiping my face with the hand towel but it was your lacey underwear.”

“You know I try to conserve energy by not drying all my clothes. The hand towel rack was a great place to dry underwear.”

In a slow deliberate voice, he repeats, “Keep your mess to yourself.”

“You’re very particular, you know that?”

“Because I know you well, and I know your faults.”

“I would barely say bringing animals home is a fault.”

“Do I need to bring Bessy up again?”

Huffing and crossing my arms, I say, “You sleep one night out in a shed with a wonderfully large cow and you’re butt hurt for life. Honestly, Maddox.”

“If you can’t agree to these terms, then it looks like I won’t be able to offer my apartment to you.”

I think about it for a second, giving his offer some serious thought before I jump on board. I practically lived with Maddox growing up, we were always back and forth to each other’s houses, sleepovers even when our parents didn’t know, because they were afraid something was going to happen even though we were just friends. I feel like I know Maddox more than I know myself at times. I’ve seen him grow into the stunning man he is today, the professional baseball player everyone knows him as. I’ve watched him face heartbreak, I’ve seen him meet success head-on, and I’ve witnessed his failures as well. If I were to live with anyone, it would be him. It would feel easy, but can he really take me?

I’m my mother’s daughter. I’m unorthodox. I know he knows that but then again, it’s been ten years since we’ve truly spent a lot of time together. We’ve had some long weekends here and there, nothing that actually spanned over the length of months.

“What are you thinking about?” he asks, knowing I’m running through all the pros and cons of his idea.

I’ve always been honest with Maddox since the day we became friends, so I say, “I don’t want you to wind up hating me.”

“Hating you? What are you talking about?”

“I know myself, Maddox. I know how I can be sometimes. I’m a little much and being around me all the time might get on your nerves.”