Maya doesn’t buy it. “A distraction is online shopping. Or rewatching crime docs for the hundredth time. This is how Dateline episodes start.”
Jeremy sighs. “If I had a dollar for every time Maya accused me of being future true crime content…”
Maya ignores him. “I’m serious, Rorie. You’re vulnerable right now. You just lost your parents. You like,justbroke up with Quinn—” She stops, the name hanging there like a slap. “I don’t want to see you get hurt.”
“Quinn,” I echo. “You mean the guy who vanished the second my life fell apart?”
She doesn’t respond.
“I’m not getting hurt,” I say, more biting than intended. “It’s just texting.”
“Texting leads to feelings. Feelings lead to complications. Complications?—”
Jeremy throws up his hands. “Oh my God, is this the Jedi path to heartbreak? Let the girl live, Yoda.” He turns to me. “This is awesome. You get the fun of flirting without the weird first-date pressure. No bad appetizers, no forced conversation about your childhood dog. Just good vibes.”
“Exactly,” I say. “It’s like a digital-age pen pal.”
Jeremy beams. “I would absolutely wear that on a shirt.”
Maya mutters, “You two are exhausting.”
I laugh.
But then she softens,. “Just don’t fall for a fantasy, okay? Because when it crashes, it’s all in your head—but the pain is still there.”
Her words land with more weight than I expect. I shift in my seat.
Then I smile too brightly. “It’s not that deep, Maya.”
She exhales, arms crossing. “Fine. But don’t come crying to me when your mystery man turns out to be a forty-five-year-old cat dad who types in Comic Sans.”
“Hey!” Jeremy raises his glass. “To mystery men and Comic Sans. May they reign forever.”
I lift my glass and clink his.
Maya leans forward one last time, her voice quiet but steady. “Promise me you won’t get too lost in this.”
I nod.
And lie through my teeth.
CHAPTER 9
LOVE, LOSS, AND LE CREUSET
NOLAN
I’m sittingcross-legged on the living room floor, a half-empty beer bottle hanging from my fingers. The game’s on, but I’m not watching. Left work early, told everyone I was going to “do research” on Asher Cross.
Lies.
I just needed out.
And instead of researching anything, I drove to a clinic and got tested. Just to be sure. Just to shut down the voice in my head whispering:what if Chloe and Jackson gave you more than mental flashbacks to remember them by?
Now I’m here. Staring at nothing. Letting time crawl by while I wait for it to give me answers, or maybe some clarity, or relief.
Anything really.
