“She’ll call, she always does. Are you worried about her or something? The way you’re acting is starting to make me anxious, and I don’t even know her.”

I started to say no but stopped myself. “Uh, yeah, I kinda am. Like I said, I haven’t heard from her in a while, and she’s not in the best situation back home. But I’m sure she’s fine, she’s the sweetest woman you’ll ever meet, but she’s tough as nails.”

Kinlee fidgeted in her chair as she studied me before shooting me a smile. “Then cheer up, friend!”

I tried to smile as I glanced at my phone again.

“Hey, why don’t you go back and visit, or have her come visit you?”

“You know I can’t, I barely have enough free time as it is with two helpers in the bakery, and I’m not making enough to hire someone else on yet. And she definitely can’t come here, she, uh, she works for some assholes. They’d never give her time off to come see me.”

“That sucks.” Kinlee tsked. “Why don’t you ever talk about your parents? What happened to them?”

“Just never had a good relationship with them, you know? Barb’s the only one I talk to from back home.”

“And let me guess, home is someplace far, far away . . . out east . . . not here . . . somewhere you don’t want to think of again?” she teased as her phone on the table started to chime and she picked it up.

I laughed softly, thankful to her for taking my mind off the call I still hadn’t gotten. “Pretty much.”

“Now, you know I think it’s good for everyone to have their secrets, but I’ve got to know: Where you’re from, was it really that bad, or do you just think I’ll judge you?”

Both. Definitely both. “It’s just someplace I’d like to forget.”

“All right, all right, I hear ya.” She gasped and brought her phone even closer to her face. “You told Aiden you didn’t want a relationship right now?!”

“Uh, yeah.” Not exactly in those words, but same meaning.

“What was wrong with him? He’s freakin’ hot and super sweet!”

“You’re right, he is. But I felt about him the same way I feel about Jace. He’s just friend material.”

“Okay, there has to be something I’m missing!” Her hand flailed out in my direction and started counting off. “It’s been at least eight months since you’ve been with someone. Jace and I have introduced you to tons of guys—all of whom you haven’t liked. Aiden is crazy hot, you can still wear your heels with him, and he’s the first guy you haven’t had something bad to say about. Those are five things that are confusing the hell out of me. Unless you’re gay—then this would all finally make sense and I could stop wondering what’s stopping you.”

I laughed lightly. “I’m not gay.”

“Then what the hell is stopping you? You’re twenty-three, you are by far the most gorgeous person I’ve seen in real life, I would kill to look like you, you’re sweet, and you’re really funny when you open up to people. So tell me.”

I’m falling for your brother-in-law harder than I have for anyone in my entire life. And I can’t even tell you about it. “I was in a relationship for six years before I moved here, one that I didn’t want to be in. This is the first time I’ve been alone in my adult life, and I’m enjoying it. Besides, it’s not like I’m a hermit. I own a bakery that I’m at for ten to sixteen hours a day, depending on the day, and I have you and Jace. I’m too busy for a relationship.”

“Six years? And you didn’t even want to be in it? Why were you with—Oh, God, was it like a Brody situation? Were you married to him? Oh, wait, no, that’s not right, you would have been what . . . sixteen, seventeen?”

My heart fluttered at the mention of Brody. Another glance at my phone confirmed that he still hadn’t called. “Yeah, no, not married. I didn’t have a choice in dating him, though.”

One dark brow shot up.

“Bad relationship with my parents,” I said by way of an explanation.

“Jeez, what did they do? Sell you off to his family or something?”

Laughing—because she wasn’t too far off—I emptied my caramel latte. “Something like that.”

Kinlee studied me for a few moments before asking, “You’re being serious, aren’t you?”

“Told you. Home’s a place I’d like to forget.”

ONCE I WAS back at the condo and in a pair of sleep shorts and a stretchy tank top, I walked into the kitchen and stared in the fridge and then the pantry for a few minutes before just grabbing the box of granola. It wasn’t like I didn’t have tons of things I could make, but my mind was just so all over the place that I could barely figure out how to put the granola and milk in the bowl without spilling it onto the counter.

By the time I finished and cleaned the bowl it was half past eight and I was too keyed up to even attempt to sleep. I tried watching TV, but nothing was holding my attention. I grabbed my Kindle, but realized ten minutes later that I didn’t even know what book I was reading. With a frustrated sigh, I set the Kindle down and walked back into the kitchen. Planting both hands on the kitchen island, I stared down at my phone and willed it to ring. With a miserable-sounding laugh, I let my head fall onto one arm and chastised myself for being like a middle schooler with a crush. What was happening to me? Obviously, whatever was happening between Brody and me was unlike anything I’d ever experienced, but I couldn’t believe I’d been reduced to a ridiculous girl glaring at her phone and not being able to do or think of anything else because of him.

I’d just let myself start believing I was going to go another night without hearing from him when my phone rang, causing me to jump back from the counter and reach for it without looking at the screen.

“Hello?” I asked breathlessly.

“Hey, baby girl!”

I hung my head and rubbed at the back of my neck. “I was wondering when I’d hear from you again, Barb.”

“Aw, have you been missing me?”

“Of course.”

She laughed and sighed. “I miss you every day, Kam. But I’m glad you’re out of here. And before you go telling me you’re sorry for leaving me again, you might as well pick up where we left off last week when you hung up on me. I want to hear more about this Aiden boy.”

“Ah, Aiden. Yeah, I’m not so sure about that one, Barb.”

MY HAND FLOPPED around on my nightstand later that night until I hit the offending device and brought it to my ear. “Mmm, ’lo?”

“God, I woke you up. I’m so sorry, go back to sleep.”

I shot up in my bed and looked over at the clock. It was after midnight. “Brody?”

He sighed softly. “Hey, KC, I’m sorry it took so long to call. Honestly, I didn’t think I was even going to be able to tonight, we’re never this busy. But go to sleep, I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“No, no. It’s fine. How are you?”

“At the risk of sounding cliché?” he asked, laughing huskily. “I’m better now that I’m talking to you.”

I smiled widely in my dark bedroom and rested my forehead in my hand, my elbow on my knee. I’d talked to Barb for thirty minutes and finally forced myself to bed at ten, coming to terms with the fact that I’d been played by Brody, and baffled that it hurt so bad. I tried to tell myself it didn’t matter, that I really didn’t care. I would just go on with my life as I had been and try to push the thought of Brody away. Not that I could. I hardly knew him, but I knew no one would ever come close to making me feel the way I did with Brody. But even knowing and feeling what I did, it didn’t stop the insecurities from creeping in. The fact that I hadn’t heard from him since the day we’d put all our feelings out there had been slowly pushing the thought forward that all this had been a game to him. The long wait made me second-guess everything. The way I felt when he was near or looked at me, the way it felt when he held me, the sincerity in his voice that morning in my bakery. All of it was slowly replaced with doubt and fear that I’d thought everything up. I’d never been insecure in anything, and being insecure in this—about him—was terrifying me beyond reason. By the time I’d fallen asleep, I’d been rubbing at my aching chest and telling myself over and over again that if he did ever call, I wouldn’t bother answering or playing this game with him.

But then I heard his voice, and all of that went away. The insecurities seemed redundant, the torture of waiting for his call seemed like nothing, and I knew in a heartbeat I’d do it all again.

“Me too,” I replied honestly. “What was so busy about tonight?”

“We had a five-car wreck on the highway right after I got on, a family assault not ten minutes after that finished up, a seven-year-old boy went missing and ended up being under his bed, and my favorite was at Mr. and Mrs. Andrew’s.”

He’d ended the last on a laugh, and my eyebrows rose. “Oh, really? And what happened with them?”

“Tonight it was throwing hot tea on his, uh, manhood because she didn’t feel like having sex.”

“Lord! Seriously? Poor Mr. Andrew. You said tonight, do you deal with them often?” What was it about this man? We hadn’t talked in days and now were talking about his job—and yet, I couldn’t remember being happier than I was in that moment.

“Oh, yeah, they’re my favorites. He’s eighty-six, she’s eighty-three, and they’ve been together since she was fifteen. Absolutely madly in love, have a great family, lots of kids, tons of grandkids, but they like keeping it interesting. I think they get lonely now that it’s just them, so whenever they do something to each other, they call the cops and make it dramatic. Like last week, she called because he wanted some kind of vegetable and she didn’t feel like cooking it. So she threw the can of corn she’d been planning on cooking at him; it missed him and ended up breaking a window and she wanted him arrested.”