She wrapped her arm around my shoulders and said, “You know you’re always welcome here. Always.”
“Thanks,” I whispered, truly grateful. She’d offered to kick Emilia out several times and let Max and me move in, but I just couldn’t do that to her. Living with a kid was hard when he wasn’t your kid. Plus, it was good for my mom to have us around. We kept her on the up and up—you know, paying her bills on time and providing food that wasn’t only pizza. Also, us being all up in her space meant she couldn’t bring a random guy home with her every night. And Max got to spend quality time with his grandma.
It was a win-win for everyone.
Plus, Emilia needed Coco. Even though she was the elder sister, she was ridiculously flighty. Coco was pretty much a full-time babysitter.
Not just for Em, but kids too.
Coco owned the only competitive dance studio within seventy miles. She was a legit drill sergeant when it came to her four-year-old’s in bikinis shaking what their mamas gave them.
She’d studied dance at college, but a torn ACL that never recovered properly had kept her from going on to do anything professional with her skills. Unless you counted the two years after college she’d worked on a Disney cruise ship.
But even that was too much for her injury. She moved back home last year, rented out this adorable place above Ace’s, and opened her studio to empower the next generation of J. Los. I was just happy to have my friend back.
And for a place to crash occasionally that wasn’t my mom’s.
Max loved Coco’s apartment too. And since Coco was pretty much a fixture in his life since the second he was born, he loved her too.
“You think something’s going on with him?” She moved around the counter to sit at one of the stools on the other side.
I pulled out a mixing bowl and got to work on the brownies. “Yes. For sure. He was out of it tonight.”
“Alcohol?” she mouthed.
Shrugging, I focused on cracking eggs into the bowl. “I didn’t smell anything on him, but he was… I don’t know… off.”
“Drugs then?” she murmured.
I shrugged again. Drugs were a common problem in small town Nebraska. Without a lot of ways to entertain oneself, the local riffraff found all kinds of outlets to get into trouble. Drug use was a big one.
Just over the summer a meth lab had blown up about twenty miles outside of town. One guy had been killed inside and the other had been carted off to county, awaiting trial.
“I’m glad you came over,” she said seriously. “I was going to call you anyway.”
“About Ajax?”
She rolled her big brown eyes. “Obviously not about Ajax. He’s a loser. I’m glad you finally see it.”
“Hey!” I protested before licking brownie batter off the end of the spatula. “I distinctly remember you pushing me toward that loser and telling me to loosen up.”
She laughed. “Yeah, for one night! I didn’t think you’d become his booty call!”
“Wait just a second!” I glanced pointedly at Max. “I’m no one’s…” I mouthedbooty call.“But, to be fair, we could say he was mine.”
She laughed and held her hands up. Thankfully, Max seemed super into the show he was watching. “Sorry.”
I just shook my head at her.
“Anyway, I was going to call you because guess who I ran into after my last class tonight? He was coming out of Pug’s, flanked by Finch and Mercer.”
“Oh, good grief. I don’t want to hear about the prodigal son’s return, okay? I’ve had enough of Levi Cole for a weekend.”
Her eyes lit up, just like every other female that had ever been introduced to the god among men that was Levi Cole. “Did you see him too?”
“He ate at Rosie’s on Friday. He hasn’t changed one bit.”Ha, take that, punk.Even though he couldn’t hear me or see me or have any way of knowing I’d just majorly dissed him.
She gave me a coy look. “I beg to differ.”
