6
"You okay, honey?"
I blinked up at my mom, spoon halfway to my mouth.
"Yeah," I said cautiously, not liking her concerned tone. "Why?"
She nodded to the utensil in my hand. The spoon was empty. I was about to take a mouthful of air.
I lowered it back to the cereal bowl.
"I'm just a little tired," I said. "Didn't get a lot of sleep last night."
"You went to that author signing at the library, right?" my mom asked as she poured me a glass of orange juice. "I wouldn't think it would go on so late. Did you have fun?"
"It was great," I lied. "I went out with some people for coffee afterwards. I had a good time."
The dull ache in my thighs betrayed that lie. I'd had way more than just a good time. I'd had one of the best nights of my life.
"I'm glad, honey," my mom said. "You deserve to have some fun." She sat down across from me at the kitchen table with her own bowl of cereal. "Do you think you'll see him again?"
My spoon clattered against the table.
"What?" I squeaked.
"The boy who told you about the event," she said. I remembered the half-truth I'd told my mom. "Do you think you'll see him around the hospital?"
A flutter of panic gripped my chest just as tight as I gripped my spoon.
Crap. I hadn't thought of that.
Nathan Walker was rich, famous, a celebrity. I'd never expected to see him again.
But he'd been visiting someone at the hospital. There was a chance, if his friend was still there, he'd be back to visit.
"You should thank him for telling you about that author signing," my mom said. "It sounds like you had a nice time."
I nearly choked on my tongue.
"Yeah, it was nice all right." I pushed back abruptly from the table and stood. "I've got to run if I don't want to be late for my shift."
"Take it easy today, okay?" my mom said. "If you had a late night, you don't want to overdo it."
Nodding silently and trying to push down the twinge of annoyance rising in my chest, I washed my bowl and spoon in the sink, then headed downstairs to my bedroom.
I technically lived in my own studio apartment, but the door separating the main house from the downstairs was always kept unlocked so I could come and go as pleased. I ate most meals with my family and often raided their fridge, but that one door kept up the polite fiction that I was an independent adult living on my own. It was the closest compromise my parents and I could come up with. At least I had my own private entrance.
As I got ready for work, I cleaned up random pieces of clothes and papers and candy wrappers. My place wasn't a complete mess, but compared to Nathan's tidy apartment, it was a disaster zone.
Nathan. It had been less than twelve hours since I'd walked out on him. I wondered how he felt about that. He might have felt slighted or upset. Or maybe he'd simply shrugged and rolled over to go to sleep.
I didn't know which bothered me more.
I shoved those thoughts aside, laced my sneakers, and headed to work.
When I got to the pet shop I nodded to my coworker, busy at the register, and put on my store-branded apron. No sooner had I tied the strings behind my back than I was approached by an older woman with short, bright purple hair carrying a small corgi in her arms.
"Excuse me, miss?"
