“Your car? Oh, why didn’t you say so? I’ll call again soon.”
She was sure she would. Her mother called frequently, and Addie loved it. Because she missed her parents. “Love you, Mom. Say hi to Dad for me.”
“I will. Love you too.”
She hung up and there was an immediate ache in her chest. Leaving her parents had been hard. They were her best friends. But it had also been necessary. She needed to plant roots somewhere new. Step out of her comfort zone and figure out who she was without them. Because to them, she’d always be their baby.
She pulled out of the parking lot. She’d just turned onto the next street when a car behind her came into view. She frowned because they were driving close. Maybe too close? Or was she being paranoid?
She took the next left, then another right.
The car was still there.
Her heart started to beat faster. Were they following her? She pressed her foot down harder and sped up.
She turned right onto her street, fully prepared to pass her house and keep driving if they turned with her.
The car went straight.
She sighed. Jesus. She was so paranoid.
When she pulled into her drive, she turned the car off, leaned her head back, and closed her eyes. A few months ago, she’d rarely left Bozeman. Yes, for family holidays and a few trips with friends, but that was it. Living somewhere new shouldn’t be freaking her out so much.
She climbed from her car and headed to the door, where she searched her purse for her house key. Only, she couldn’t find it.
Shit, where was it?
Most people kept their house and car keys together. She didn’t because her father had drilled into her that if she ever lost her keys, the thief had access to both her car and home. But…was she supposed to be thankful now that she’d only lost her house key?
No. She hadn’t lost it. It had to be here somewhere.
She crouched down and tipped the purse upside down so everything fell onto the porch. Jesus, how much crap did she need? Lip gloss. Tissues. A glitter pen. Why did she have a glitter pen but no house key?
She sorted through everything. Every. Single. Item. It wasn’t there. And worse, the spare wasinsidethe house, because she’d ordered a cute key-safe garden gnome, but it hadn’t arrived yet.
Shit.
If she was in Bozeman, she’d have called her dad, the fixer of all problems. But she wasn’t in Bozeman. She was in Amber Ridge. And the only people she knew were from the park. Butshe wasn’t really close to any of them. She’d had the most contact with Noah. She kind of considered him a friend.
She lifted her phone, hovering her finger over his name.
But what could he do?Hedidn’t have her spare key.
She nibbled her bottom lip, her gaze lifting to the street. And that’s when she remembered the car that seemed to be following her, and the constant feeling of being watched. The footsteps behind her in the park the other day…
She hit Noah’s number and he answered on the second ring.
“Addison?”
“Hi.” Okay, now she felt stupid for calling. She was twenty-two. An adult. She should be able to solve her own problems.
“Are you okay?”
She scrunched her nose. “Actually, I locked myself out of my house. Or at least, I can’t find my key. And usually I’d call my dad, but I don’t want him to make the one-hour drive to Amber Ridge, and he doesn’t have a key anyway. And I don’t know any locksmiths. Heck, I don’t even know why I’m callingyou. Maybe because I don’t have anyone else. Maybe because I’m losing my mind along with my key—”
“Addie…” There was a gentleness to his voice. “Send me your address.”
“Really? You can help me?”
