Chapter 5

CHAPTER FIVE

Adam

Laney waves as she pulls out of the parking lot, and I wave back, but I don't immediately follow her. Instead, I sit still, hands gripping the steering wheel, and wonder what just happened.

Talking to Laney was unexpected. Incredible. Easy in ways that talking to a woman never has been before.

I want to see her again.

I want to pull out of the parking lot and chase her down and see her right now, but that would make me creepy and possibly obsessive, so I settle for pulling out my phone instead.

I type in her contact info, then start a text.

Adam

Hi. I know you just left. Too soon?

I just wanted to say thank you one more time.

Also. I'm sorry (again) that I got weird when my mom came up. Sarah keeps telling me that making myself talk about her will eventually make it easier. So…here goes.

My mom had metaplastic breast cancer. She was diagnosed when I was fifteen and died when I was eighteen. Since my dad has never been in the picture, it was just me and Sarah after she died. As a result—we're pretty close. Sarah is my best friend as much as she's my sister.

Even though she drives me crazy.

Anyway. Talking to you is really easy, and I'm pretty sure had I said all of this in person, you would have listened and understood.

And now I'm going to stop blowing up your phone and will probably spend the next half hour worrying about whether I should have texted at all.

Or at least texted so fast.

But for real. I'm done now. K, bye.

I read back over my text messages and sigh.

I mean. It could be worse.

I stare at the screen for a moment, but I can't really expect Laney to respond. She's driving. I don't want her to respond. And now I'm worried about her being distracted by my texts when she should be focusing on the road.

Adam

Also, I know you're driving. Sorry. Please don't wreck.

I drop my phone onto the center console of my SUV, then head back to the rescue, thinking about Laney the entire time.

Sarah isn't going to believe I'm actually putting myself out there. Not that I'm getting ahead of myself. I like talking to Laney. But we haven't even been on a date yet. The point is, I haven't even been interested in trying in years.

And now I'm interested.

When I make it back to Hope Acres, Sarah's car is still gone, so as soon as I'm out of the car, I pull out my phone.

I quickly check to make sure I didn't miss a text from Laney, then I call Sarah.

She's a grown woman. Mostly responsible. And I've never been strict about making her keep regular work hours. She manages the rescue's finances and handles our website and social media accounts, both things she can largely do from anywhere, so I don't really care if she comes and goes as she pleases.

But who else will keep up with Sarah if I don't?

She finally picks up on the fourth ring, sounding breathless but alive. "Hey! Are you okay? I just saw all your texts. Do you still need me to come get you?"

"I'm fine. Back at the rescue," I say dryly. "Where have you been?"

She hesitates. "Um, on a date, actually."

"In the middle of the day?"

"Why not?"

"Because normal people work in the middle of the day."

"I ran out of things to do," she says. "Everything is caught up at the rescue, and Jake was available for lunch, so I took off. Sorry I missed you, though. I put my phone on silent when we got to the restaurant, and then we just fell into conversation so easily, and anyway, you know how it is. I'm glad you're okay."

I will myself not to worry simply because Sarah spent the entire afternoon with a man I don't know. She goes on lots of dates, though maybe that's part of why I do worry. I would love to see my sister settle down with someone nice, someone reliable with steady work, their own apartment, but so far, she's mostly fallen for guys who are the exact opposite.

She calls them mysterious and exciting. Free spirits.

I call them irresponsible freeloaders.

We have agreed to disagree on this point.

"Tell me about Jake," I say as I drop onto the front porch step. Goldie gets to her feet, struggling with her hips as she does, then wanders over and drops her head onto my knee. I wince at the reminder of Goldie's age. She isn't getting around as easily these days. "Are you still with him now?"

"I'm home and alone and totally safe," Sarah says with practiced patience. "Not that you would have any reason to worry if we were still together. You'd like Jake. He's a doctor."

"Yeah? How did you meet him?"

"You know Mandy, the volunteer who comes out on Thursdays to walk the dogs? He's her cousin. He just finished his residency down in Charleston and moved here to work with his uncle, who owns Lawson Cove Family Practice. He's living in this tiny studio above his uncle's garage, but only because he's building a house and it isn't done yet, so don't you dare hold that against him."

"Why would I hold that against him?"

"Because you have a ridiculously high bar for the men I date. But Adam, I really like this one. Somehow, he manages to check all of my boxes while still being all the boring things you want him to be. Like, he plays the guitar, and he took a gap year in between undergrad and med school so he could hike the entire Appalachian Trail, but also, he works hard and has a car that's paid for and he loves his mom."

"He sounds perfect," I say.

She sighs. "I think he might be."

"So it's funny you went out with him today," I say. "Because I actually met someone too."

"Shut up."

"Don't freak out. We just talked."

"Wait. You went to the vet today," Sarah says. "Is it the hot vet? Did you finally ask out the hot vet?"

"The hot vet has a name," I say. "It's Elena, or Laney, really, and she's the one who drove me home to pick up my spare key."

"Oh my gosh. I'm a freaking matchmaking genius, and I didn't even know it."

"Somehow I knew you would find a way to take credit for this," I say.

"Of course I'm taking credit," she shoots back. "Had I answered my phone, you never would have asked her to help." She breathes out a happy sigh. "This is so great. You'd better let me speak at your wedding."

"How about we not jump all the way to wedding talk?" I say. "But also, who do you think would be your competition if we were assigning speeches?"

"True. You need to make some new friends. So did you ask her out? When will you see her again?"

"I've texted her," I say. "Hopefully, we'll set something up soon. When do you see Jake again?"

"Actually, we're going on a little getaway this weekend. Just down to Atlanta—Jake has concert tickets—so unless you really need me tomorrow, I'll probably take the day off so I can do some shopping before Jake gets off work."

"If everything's caught up, you know I don't care."

She lets out a little squeal. "Yay. You're the best." Sarah launches into a detailed play-by-play of their date, and it occurs to me, as she rambles on and on, that I've never heard her talk so freely about any of the guys she's dated in the past. She's genuinely excited about this guy in a way she never has been before.

I'm happy for her, but there's an unexpected twinge of sadness laced around the edges of that happiness, too. I was eighteen when Mom died, but Sarah was only seventeen, so she lived in foster care for three months before she aged out of the system. It killed me that she couldn't just live with me, but my departure from Midnight Rush was fresh enough that the family court didn't think I was prepared to give Sarah the stability she needed.

So I moved into Mom's house, got my finances in order, and waited for her birthday.

As soon as we were together, it was us against the world.

We took care of each other. Turned into adults together—a process that was admittedly easier because of the money I'd made with Midnight Rush. I did a lot of hiding in those early years, trying to stay off the grid and out of the public eye, and Sarah is the one who made that possible. She dealt with the real estate agent when we sold Mom's house and moved deeper into the Tennessee mountains. She dealt with bankers and accountants, she fended off curious journalists and paparazzi. She finally convinced my agent that I was, in all seriousness, finished with the music business.

We didn't know anything about being adults.

But we figured it out together .

And I couldn't have done it without her.

Even though I've logically always known our lives wouldn't be this way forever, there's something about hearing her talk about Jake that feels like the rest of her life is about to begin—a life that won't involve nearly as much time with me. I'd like to think I'm moving in a similar direction, but that doesn't make it any less weird.

"Anyway," she finishes, "I totally promised him he could come by the rescue next week to meet all the dogs, so I was thinking that might be a great time for you to meet him."

"Is he looking to adopt?"

"As soon as his house is done. And get this. He says he wants an older dog because they deserve good homes too. Isn't that the sweetest? I was thinking Bono would be perfect for him."

"Maybe so."

"Will you be around when he comes by?"

"I'm always around," I say.

"No, I know. I just mean will you be present instead of off in the fields somewhere communing with nature and talking to the dogs?"

"I don't…" My words trail off because I do, actually, talk to the dogs, and I tend to be much happier out in the mountains than inside. "I'll make an effort," I say instead.

"Yay. Tell me when you officially make plans with Laney?"

"Will do. And please behave this weekend, all right?"

Sarah chuckles. "If I don't, I definitely won't tell you about it."