Maybe Haddie did need more space to figure out this roommate/friendship thing with Levi, but she also needed to take responsibility for perpetuating their stalemate.
Haddie:Awake?
Three dots appeared immediately, and Haddie waited for them to disappear, for no response to come. She deserved at least that much. But her phone buzzed in her hand a second later.
Mr. Tux:Awake
Haddie:Sorry I made you miss a night hanging with your brother. That kind of makes me the worst.
Mr. Tux:Thanks, Bday Girl. But there is no world I know of where you could ever be the worst.
Haddie’s heart and stomach simultaneously fluttered.
Haddie:What if there was a world where I was a supervillain?
Haddie swore she could sense him smile from the other room.
Mr. Tux:Then you’d be the best supervillain. See what I did there?
She laughed.
Haddie:I see. Impressive loophole.
Mr. Tux:Happy to know I haven’t lost the ability to impress you yet.
Haddie sighed. “Stop being so charming,” she whispered. Because even if she was still a little mad at him, she couldn’t ignore there was so much more to Levi Rourke than the Summertown soccer teams—or soon to be lack thereof.
The safest thing to do was put his charm—and both of them—to bed. Separately! Ugh. Even her brain was conspiring against her.
Haddie:Anyway, just wanted to apologize for making you feel like you couldn’t hang with Matteo. That wasn’t my intent. Sleep tight, Levi.
The telltale three dots appeared and disappeared again until finally a response came through.
Mr. Tux:Apology accepted. And still maintain you could never be the worst. Sleep tight, Bday Girl. Thanks for the text.
She set her phone on her nightstand and sighed.
Thanks for being scrappy, Mr. Tux, she thought and then drifted off to sleep.
Chapter 10
Levi looked at the paper sign taped next to the meeting room’s doorand then back at his most recent text from Eden Frankel, his lawyer.
Eden:Yes. The judge will accept group counseling as long as you attend at least fifteen sessions, the group is led by an actual counselor, and the counselor signs off on your attendance and progress.
Even via text, Eden sounded like a lawyer, despite her having known Levi and having worked with his university’s football program for the better part of a decade.
He sighed, scratched the stubble on his cheek, and pushed open the door.
“Oh good!” called a woman who was in the middle of converting rows of folding chairs into a large circle. “The doorstop keeps losing the war against the door. Do you think you can wedge it in there a little better? An open door is always a much more welcoming door.”
“Uh…sure,” Levi replied. He found the doorstop, toed it with his sneaker to the open door, and gave it a good kick to wedge itunderneath. When he let go of the door and it stayed, he gave himself a mental pat on the back and decided this was a sign of better things to come today after his and Haddie’s text exchange last night. “Can I help?” he asked, striding toward the woman and her mess of chairs. He held his hand out as he approached “I’m—”
“Levi Rourke,” she interrupted, giving him a hearty shake.
His eyes widened. “Have…um…have we met?” She looked at him from behind tortoiseshell, cat’s-eye frames, her long brown hair in a braid hanging over one shoulder. She looked around his age, which meant they could have gone to school together, which in a town this small, would make him the hugest asshole known to man for not recognizing her.
She laughed. “Hope Ellis,” she told him, grabbing his hand and giving it a firm shake. “And no. We haven’t met. I just set up my practice about six months ago. The…uh…pro bono group thing is kinda my marketing tactic. But you’re not one of my regulars, and I had a chat yesterday with Eden Frankel…” Her voice trailed off.
