She crosses her arms under her chest, pushing up her boobs like that does anything for me and makes a scoffing noise as she looks from me to her friend.
“Can you believe her?”
“Take your dollar store lip filler and your one-woman posse and go upstairs. You’ve already been asked nicely, and you’re being a bitch to someone who absolutely does not deserve it.” Her mouth hangs open, but it’s the girl behind her who touches her lips softly as if she’s appalled by the insinuation that her filler might not be up to par, because it’s the knockoff kind. You can tell by the way she’s checking and rechecking.
“It’s not a big deal,” I hear Royce say behind me, but I ignore him because itisa big deal.
“Move.” I make a shooing motion with my hands, and with huffs and sighs, they scurry away. “And bless your heart!” I call as their high heels click across the floor—also knockoffs, but that’s a battle for another day.
The hall is quiet as we both watch them go. And it’s not until we hear the elevator doors close that I turn and look at him. He’s the kind of guy that’s only slightly more of a boy than a man with his floppy dark hair and rich caramel-colored eyes. His glasses are askew on his face, and he pushes them up, pushing them from the middle, not on the side.
He’s not trying to impress me. He’s probably embarrassed or nervous, but he doesn’t need to be. I can tell he wants to say something, but he doesn’t know how or he’s unsure how to approach it. So, I hold out my hand and wait for him to place his hand in mine.
“I’m Kinsley,” I say, with a smile that’s not as bright as usual. He’s the kind of guy who’s skittish, and I don’t want to scare him off.
“Royce. Thanks for your help.”
“Royce, huh? Can I call you Roy?” He stumbles over a response, and I smile. “Roy it is.” We gather our mail in silence, and I linger until he’s forced to meet my gaze. “You have every right to occupy the same space as everyone else.”
“What if I don’t want to?” he asks, his lips twitching up slightly on one side.
“Then make your own path.”
“I’d rather just deal with computers,” he says with a shrug. “Throwing elbows isn’t really my thing.”
I snort as I walk toward the elevators, pausing to make sure he follows. When he does, I add, “Yeah, but Superman was hot as Clark Kent too.”
That earns me a chuckle. It’s deeper than I anticipated and sends the most pleasant little zip of awareness between my legs. Royce isn’t my type—he’s young and impressionable, shy and adorable—but I think I might just have an innocent little crush on my new neighbor.
And I don’t hate it one bit.
1
KINSLEY
PRESENT DAY
The manifesting did not manifest.
But I shouldn’t be surprised. I’ve always believed that things happen in threes, and today is no exception. My best friend moved to Blackstone Falls, and even though it’s temporary, it doesn’tfeeltemporary. Then my ex decided he needed to start some shit for no reason this morning, resulting inanotherblocked phone number and a spike to my blood pressure.
The messages weren’t the problem.
They were vague, annoying, and often creepy, but nothing I couldn’t handle.
But the last message he sent had a picture attached—one taken the other night when I’d been out at Smoke, one of Nashville’s hottest bars.
I hadn’t wanted to be there, but a couple of girls from the team had asked and I needed to keep up appearances.
Always appearances.
Nessa and I had honed our titles as the heartbreakers of the Tennessee Tornadoes, carefully toeing the line to give them what they want without completely losing ourselves in the process.
But I’d taken it a step further.
I’d had a couple of videos go viral on social media at the beginning of my career, and all of a sudden, I was being asked to participate in podcasts, photoshoots, and ultimately, a reality dance competition.
I didn’t win, but my agent had seen money signs and I’d seen a way for me to raise awareness for the things that are important to me—so we compromised.
