So far, our hookups have been very routine, sticking to the agreement with very little deviation, and it’s been exactly what I’ve needed to fill that small, empty void in me. Still, once I’m home, back in my bed with no one to share it with, I feel the emptiness slowly start to spread again. I think it’s because I haven’t told anyone what I’ve been doing. It’s a secret I chose to keep, and for good reason, I just wish I could gush about the hot new sex I’m having to my best friend.
I don’t think Raegan will judge me for blurring the lines with Aidan; it’s more that I worry she’ll take it way too seriously. Raegan would flip her shit if she ever found out I was hooking up with Jamie’s friend.
I can see the headline in the Shadow Hills newspaper:Best friends turned lovers find out their best friends are hooking up!
Soon after, the proverbial wedding bells will chime before I’ve even had the chance to explain the situation. I know everyone means well, but as much as I would love to find my perfect match, I can guarantee Aidan Ward is not that. And I don’t think I can handle people trying to list all the reasons he might be.
I mean, sure, he seems like a decent guy. I might have misjudged him a bit in the beginning, but that was because Ididn’t know what was buried under his ill-mannered exterior. Turns out it was a set of rock-solid abs and the talents of a sex god.
Despite no one else knowing about our relationship—Not a relationship, Jo. An arrangement—it’s proven to be the best decision I ever made. I feel like I’ve aged backward a decade. Aidan might deny having the ability to glamor me, but I swear my skin looks better than it did in my twenties, so there’s definitelysomethingmagical going on. I feel invigorated, like each interaction with him is a small drink from the fountain of youth.
I roll over and curl into the pillow as I scroll through social media on my phone. Thumper rests her head on my hip, waiting patiently for me to get out of bed. She doesn’t need to go out, because my mom finally got back in town last night and offered to do the morning routine so I could sleep in.
It’s my first day off in weeks. If she hadn’t been taking care of her sister, I would have chosen to play hooky for my birthday, but I had to take the hand I’d been dealt. Running a rescue and taking care of farm animals is a nonstop job.
There was a time in my life when I looked at it with rose-colored glasses—I wanted to be fulfilled by my job and know I was making a difference—now I see it for the hard work it really is.
There are plenty of good days with some pretty stinkin’ cool animals, but that high comes with some pretty severe lows. I’ve seen way more abused animals than any person should. I’ve had to say goodbye to too many dogs I’ve considered pets. And I’m the one that feels the loss when a rescue doesn’t go our way. I’m so thankful to have my mom by my side, because if I didn’t, I don’t think I could handle the emotional burden alone.
And now I’m even more thankful that she’s back. My mom is like a best friend. She was young when she had me, and myfather dipped before I was born, so it’s always just been the two of us. I celebrate her every Mother’s Day and Father’s Day, because she’s the best of both. It’s our shared love of animals that started the rescue in the first place.
Filled with a rush of excitement to see her, I finally get up. I throw the covers violently to the side, startling Thumper, then apologize by forcing her into a hug that swallows her whole body. She’s used to my smothering affection, so she just burrows into my shoulder until I’m done.
Together, we walk into the kitchen to find my mom scrambling eggs.
“Good morning, chickadee.”
I go to hug her around the back, giving her just as tight a squeeze. I was already in bed when she got home last night, so I only got a text message saying she made it safely. This is the first time I've seen her in six days.
I’ve been staying in the main house while she’s been away. When she’s here, I live in a loft above the barn. It was converted into a living space not long after we decided to start the rescue. I wanted my own place, but I also needed to be close to the farm, so this felt like the perfect compromise. Sleeping in the main house and waking up to her making breakfast brings back a rush of nostalgia from my childhood, and I hug her even tighter.
“You have no idea how much I missed you,” I mutter into the back of her shoulder, letting go just to smack her playfully on the butt.
“And by ‘missed me’ I’m sure you mean, missed me picking up the slack.”
I smile. “You know me so well.” Even my mom knows how hard it is for me to express my emotions, but deep down, she knows how much I truly miss her when she’s gone.
I sit down at the breakfast nook while Thumper putters around my mom’s feet, nails clicking against the hardwood whileshe waits for any scrap of food to fall on the floor. When she’s done with the eggs, my mom piles a scoop onto a slice of bread and tops it with thinly sliced avocados and red pepper flakes. She places it on the table in front of me, then puts the rest of the eggs on a small plate for Thumper, placing it on the floor. Thumper gobbles the entire helping in two bites.
“How’s Holly?” I ask with a mouthful of toast.
Mom slides into the nook beside me and swallows a large gulp of her coffee. “I forgot what it was like having a sister,” she says flatly. “Now I’m woefully reminded.”
“That bad huh?”
She shakes her head. “She might be a tyrant, but she’s a lonely one with no one else to help her.”
My aunt, Holly, has always been the wild card in the family. Her politics skew to the extreme, she’s very religious, and she always hated being seen with me when I had blue streaks in my hair. One time she asked a random server in the drive-through if he approved of my nose ring then blatantly explained all the reasons why she didn’t. She is not a pleasant woman to be around at the best of times, so I can only imagine how hard it was for my mom to be stuck with her while recovering from surgery.
Thumper comes over to nudge my foot, so I pick her up and place her on the bench between us. “What made her finally let you go?” I ask.
She props her chin in her hand and cocks her head. “Once I realized Holly didn’t actually need help with the things she claimed she did, I knew it was time to go.”
Now I’m eager to hear the drama. “Like what?”
My mom sighs, exacerbated. “Washing her hair for one. That bitch’s hair is just as thick as mine, so I know she doesn’t wash it every day. She was just milking the spa treatment as long as she could.”
“Was there any reason for you to be there at all? I mean, what sort of recovery comes with removing eye bags.”
