Okay. I know which I’d choose. And it’s a blaring alarm in and on itself to keep my distance.
“No, but I saved this girl from a trailer park fire once and she kept referencing Moana, so I watched it before visiting her.”
Ah. My heart splinters. Of course, he is the type to visit his rescue victims.
“Was she injured?”
“Luckily not. But her family situation was complicated. She ended up in the system and I wanted to make sure she found a good foster home.”
He’s carving out a soft spot in my chest, right where I swore I was solid and impenetrable.
We each open a few containers. The food smells amazing, but my appetite has taken a nosedive, replaced by a strange cocktail of nerves. I feel simultaneously at ease and awkward out of my mind around Plumby MacHottie.
He scoops up noodles from his carton, inhaling deeply. “This smells incredible.”
I nod, focusing on my takeout box, hyperaware of his presence in my kitchen. It’s been four years since I had a meal with a man who wasn’t a relative or a coworker. Four years since Daniel sat across from me, stealing pieces of chicken from my plate.
Josh takes a bite and makes a noise that stirs up a weird fizz low in my belly—deeply unwelcome.
“Oh man, this is delicious. What’s the name of this place?”
“Thai Garden, it’s right next door.” I twirl my noodles.
Josh nods. “They have a new client.”
Before we fall into another awkward silence, I grasp for a neutral topic. “You settling in okay? Any weird neighbor stories yet?”
He chews thoughtfully. “Not first hand. Just what Agatha told me. She’s better than cable.”
“Let me guess,” I say, relaxing. “She’s already spilled all the gossip, including details no one should know about their neighbors.”
“Within forty-eight hours of me moving in,” he confirms with a laugh. “She claims Mr. Clark in 3C has a full collection of adult novelty items. Agatha used the phrasemarital aids.”
“Oooh, nooo,” I groan in protest. “Thanks for gifting me that visual.” I squeeze my eyes shut. “I’ll never be able to say hi to Mr. Clark with a straight face again.”
“Welcome to the club. We should start a support group. Survivors of Agatha’s TMI Hour.”
“Did she give you any non-scarring neighbor trivia?”
His forehead scrunches in a cute frown. “No, and I don’t want to know how she gets her intel.”
“I bet she keeps a dossier on everyone over eighteen. Penny calls her Gossip Granny.”
“Smart kid.” He looks down the hall as if he half expects her to come out of her room and yell boo. “Where is she tonight?”
The way he asks—careful, non-invasive—further cracks the casing I’ve built around my heart and welded shut. Just a hair. He’s respecting my boundaries while still making conversation.
“She’s spending the weekend at her aunt’s mansion.” I take a sip of beer.
Josh’s head rears back in surprise. “Mansion?”
I laugh at his expression. “You don’t readPeoplemagazine, do you?”
“Can’t say that I do,” he admits, looking genuinely confused.
“My sister Josie is in a serious relationship with Rian Phoenix.” I drop the name like I’m not talking about one of the biggest celebrities on the planet.
Josh’s eyebrows shoot up. “Wow.”
