1
NIX
“Don’t do it.” Nick stares directly into my eyes, daring me to move. I’m arguing with himagain, which means it’s a day that ends iny. “Come down, and I’ll give you anything you want.”
I take a few cautious steps toward him. “Please? I’ll give you anything.”
Despite my best begging, Nick kicks myLEGOtypewriter off the top of the bookcase. All I can do is raise my hands and brace for the noise of two thousand and seventy-nine pieces hitting the ground and scattering.
Get a bookstore cat. It’ll be great for business. You’ll barely even notice he’s there.
Bullshit. All of it. Saint Nick has been nothing but trouble since the day I found him eating out of the dumpster in the alley behind the shop. For a can of wet food and a warm blanket, he was willing to be lured inside. Now that he’s here, he refuses to give up his street cat ways, even though he lives a luxuriouslife in a climate-controlled environment surrounded by all the creature comforts a cat could ever want.
“Are you done being a menace?” I give Nick my best scowl. It’s too late for these shenanigans, especially on freshly mopped floors.
Nick gives me his best bored look and trots off, throwing his head back in the process. It’d look sassier if he weren’t an oversized beast. Before him, I’d never seen a Maine Coon. Straight from the back alley, he was malnourished and small. Now, he’s a twenty-four-pound beast covered in black and white fluff.
“So…no?”
I get down on my hands and knees to clean up the mess. Maybe next time he’ll find it in his gremlin heart to pick a smaller set. Or at least one of the ones that isn’t retired. What are the odds I’ll be able to find every piece?
Close to zero is my guess.
At least it’s possible to get it back together, with the help of the internet and spare parts. The same can’t be said for some of the more fragile creations he’s gotten his paws on. The poor little horses on my miniature wood carousel didn’t even see Nick coming. How he even manages to get all the way up onto the bookcases is beyond me. It’ll be one of the secrets he takes to the grave.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, pulling my thoughts away from Nick.
Who would be texting me this late?
What a sad phrase for someone on the cusp of thirty. It’s only ten. There should be dozens of people out at this time who want to talk to me.
There’s not, but there should be. When it keeps buzzing, I realize it’s an actual phone call. I pull it out of my pocket, readyto send whatever spammer is calling to voicemail. Except the screen is lit up with a picture of my best friend.
“Russ? What’s wrong?” My heart races thinking about who we know that might be sick or dying.
“Nothing’s wrong.” He laughs at me in the way only he can. We’ve been best friends forever. Or at least that’s how I remember it. In reality, I think we were two when his family moved in next door. Since then, we’ve been inseparable.
Mostly. A few hundred miles separate his home in Charlotte, North Carolina, from mine in Sleighbell Springs, Vermont. “You got a minute? I have a favor to ask you.”
“Anything.” I’d cut my arm off and ship it to him if he asked. He’s been with me through all the ups and downs of my life. Fought off bullies in middle school when it became clear that my desire to live life with my nose stuck in a book instead of playing sports was a permanent arrangement.
“Don’t say yes yet. It’s a big ask.”
I’m going to say yes, but I’ll wait for him to get through whatever it is. “Are you okay?” That’s all I really care about. I can be on a plane first thing in the morning if needed.
“I’m good. It’s my brother I’m calling about.”
“Chase?” My mouth goes dry. It’s been nearly a decade since I last saw Chase Haywood. Growing up, I had the biggest crush on him. He was two years older and so cool. Watching him mow the lawn, shirtless and dripping in sweat, is how I knew I was gay. After he went off to college on a track scholarship, I only saw him when he was home on break.
“He’s come into a hard time recently. You remember Kelley, that blonde he married?”
“Yeah, I saw the pictures onFacebook.” Understatement of the century. I’d gone through them meticulously, looking for any sign that the whole thing was a sham. Technically, I was invited to the wedding, but I couldn’t bring myself to go. My crushnever went away, even when it was obvious Chase would never reciprocate. During high school, he had a different cheerleader on his arm every week, each one prettier than the last. He’d never be interested in a nerd like me.
And okay, part of that was because he was straight, but still. Even if he was gay, he’d be out of my league.
“Well, she’s a lying cheater. He caught her fucking his coworker.”
“Shit.”
