Chapter 1

ONE YEAR LATER

My apartment has changed since I last cried on the bathroom floor over a worthless man. It’s gone from the moody, gothic décor of my dreams to Barbie pink and girly. I’ve accepted that I’m both a gothic temptress and a fairy princess. My two personalities in one. But I’d needed to be surrounded by bright and cheerful things after the Josh incident, even if I mostly dress in a more alternative style. The little neon light of a cat wearing a cowboy hat with the words “Meowdy” around him makes me happy. Just as the bubblegum pink couch does. William Shakespurr definitely enjoys it. His dark grey fur sticks to the back of it in a way I know I’ll curse later when I grow tired of cleaning it with a lint brush, but that’s okay.

“Perfect,” I grunt as I straighten from where I’d been pushing the couch. “This is the arrangement we needed, William.”

I’ve rearranged the living room at least three times after watching a YouTube video about feng shui and the need for furniture to be arranged perfectly. I’d decided on the best arrangement for happiness and now here we are looking like a goth princess in a Barbie Dreamhouse.

I love it.

I take a seat on the couch and kick my feet up, out of breath. The couch is heavy as fuck, but I’d been able to shove it around myself. I don’t need no man to help me. In fact, I’ve sworn off men altogether for a while. It felt good to delete my dating apps. It felt even better to buy this pink couch without anyone questioning it.

Almost on cue with me kicking off my shoes, my phone dings with a text message. I lean over with a groan to the other side of the couch where William sits on it and reach underneath him. “You’re not a chicken, William. The phone isn’t going to hatch treats for your duty,” I tell him. He meows in offense and ambles over to his cat tree instead, also new and pink.

I flip open the messages and stare at the single new message there from an unknown number.

Hey.

Frowning, I reply.

Who’s this?

The little text bubbles pop up as the person starts to type. My phone dings again.

I’m insulted. You deleted my number?

I’ve deleted a lot of numbers over the years, but that doesn’t answer my question at all.

Probably for a good reason. Who is this?

There’s a pause before the bubbles pop back up again. It takes far longer for the answer to come through than before.

It’s Josh.

I narrow my eyes, but don’t immediately jump to conclusions. I’ve known a lot of Joshes.

Josh who?

Christ. It’s Josh Holiday.

My face twists with immediate disgust.

Ew. No.

I shoot the reply quickly before immediately blocking the number and tossing the phone back on the couch. I have no idea what he wants, but I’m certainly not falling for that act again. I want nothing to do with that asshole.

My phone starts to ring, and I stare at the new number flashing across the screen. Something tells me not to answer, so I let it ring and ring until it goes to voicemail. A minute later, it beeps to let me know there’s a new voice message. Slowly, I reach for it and press the notification, waiting as my voicemail box goes through its whole “put in your password” spiel before it finally lets me into the messages.

“You have one unheard message. First unheard message. Hey Kate. I know you don’t want to hear from me, but I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately. I wanted to see if you’re still around in the area and if you’d meet with me. My treat. Call me back please. And unblock the other number. To delete this message, press—” I tap a button. “Message deleted.” I block the second number for good measure.

“Fuck you,” I say as I toss the phone back on the couch.

I assume that’s the end of it. Two blocked numbers and a clear indication that I want nothing to do with him should be enough. It turns out, I’m completely wrong. Aren’t we always? I think, as women, we like to give men the benefit of the doubt. I also think, collectively, we should stop doing that and just follow our instincts from the get go. Tell them they didn’t make you come. Tell them you have no interest in them. Stab them in the eye if they won’t take no. Or the balls. Men really cherish their balls.

A couple of days after that damn text, I’m walking into the grocery store to gather what I need for the week. My mind is on the mint chocolate chip ice cream I’m going to buy, so I don’t immediately notice him until he’s stepping in front of my cart. I slam to a stop to avoid hitting the man.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t see you—” I’d been about to apologize to the random stranger I’d nearly taken out, but my words cut off when I see Josh standing in front of me, a smug smile on his face. He looks different, older somehow, even though it’s only been a year. There are more wrinkles around his eyes and his lips, as if he’s aged ten years since I last saw him. My own face twists with a scowl. “Move.”

“Kate, I need to talk to you,” he says, his eyes glancing to the side as if he’s looking for someone.

I follow his gaze, but there’s nothing there. “Leave me the fuck alone. I want nothing to do with you. I thought you’d get that message when I blocked your number.”

“Yeah, but I need to talk to you?—”

“About what?” I snarl. “The three thousand dollars you stole from me? Are you here to pay me back?”

He winces. “No, it’s not about that.”

“Then I have nothing to talk to you about,” I hiss before pushing the cart against him, forcing him to move.

He’s relatively harmless. Josh Holiday may be many things—sniveling rat, thief, cheater—but he’s never once laid his hands on me. He knows it for the mistake it is. I’d absolutely beat the shit out of him if he ever thought to lay a hand on me. He’s not a big man, and I’m five feet of fury when I’m pissed. Plus, I’ve been doing yoga. I’m more limber now.

“I’m in some trouble—” he starts as he tries to follow me.

“I don’t give a shit about your trouble.”

“I need to borrow some money?—’

I stop so quickly, he runs into me and immediately stumbles back. “I know you did not just say that.”

“I know I have no right to ask,” he replies. “But I’m desperate, and I know you’re good with your money, so you probably have a lot saved up?—”

I stare at him, at the way he twitches, and his eyes flick to the side like he’s terrified someone will appear and shoot him. What the actual fuck has this idiot gotten himself into?

“None of that’s my problem,” I interrupt his long-winded excuse. “You have nothing if not audacity, Josh Holiday. I’ll give you that.”

“Please! You don’t understand!” He reaches for my arm, and I jerk away which catches the attention of other shoppers. A few people stop and take a step closer in case they need to intervene. Josh notices them and immediately holds up his hands, but it doesn’t stop him from talking. “You’re going to regret not helping me, Kate.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask, but a big burly man steps between us before he can answer.

“Is there a problem here?” the man asks, making sure to protect me in case Josh launches himself at me.

Josh backs away. “No, no problem.” He looks pointedly at me before turning and leaving the grocery story altogether.

“You okay?” the man asks once he’s gone. I notice the nametag on his chest, the one claiming he’s the manager. “You need someone to walk you back to your car?”

“That would be great. Thank you,” I sigh. I grab my groceries in record time and gratefully thank him when he helps me load my car and makes sure I’m in it safely with the doors locked before he goes back inside. I’m definitely giving this store a five-star review. Their service is amazing.

When I get back to my apartment, I stare up at the flight of stairs, my skin beginning to crawl. One of the lights is out, throwing a bit of the staircase into darkness. I’ve called in the maintenance order a few times but apparently, they hadn’t gotten to it today. I consider calling my neighbor to ask if he can walk me up the stairs but decide that’s probably silly. Josh is harmless if not persistent.

I get out of my car and grab my few grocery bags before climbing the stairs. I move quickly, unlocking my door in record time and throwing my groceries inside just before I deadbolt the door. Not even a minute later, there’s a knock on the door and I flinch, my eyes going wide.

I don’t answer the door. I don’t even move toward it. My instincts scream at me that this is getting out of hand, that I need to call the cops. This is too much like stalking now.

“Kate?” Josh calls through the door. “I really need to talk to you. If you’d just hear me out?—”

“I’m going to call the police,” I threaten. I pull my phone out of my pocket. “Leave me alone!”

“Why won’t you listen to me?” he snarls. “You always were a fucking bitch!”

“I’m calling the cops,” I say, unlocking my phone and hovering my finger over the button. I can call and they’ll send an officer out. I’ll consider putting in for a restraining order but honestly, it’s just a piece of paper. It won’t do anything really. Not if he’s persistent.

“Fine. Have it your way,” he spits. He punctuates his words with a kick at the door before I hear him start descending the stairs. I still keep my hand over the button for a few minutes before I relax.

“For fuck’s sake,” I rasp, suddenly worried. Whatever trouble he’s found himself in must be bad, but it’s still not my business. It’s certainly not my job to bail him out. I just want him to leave me alone.

I glance over and take in William where he sits watching the door, his tail swishing side to side.

“Exes,” I say, shaking my head. “You better thank the stars you’re fixed and don’t have any yourself, William. They’re nothing but trouble.”

He trails along after me as I carry the groceries into the kitchen, eager to play in the brown paper bag once I empty it. The mint chocolate chip ice cream doesn’t quite taste right when I dig into it that night.