Page 1 of Fitz and Starts


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Fern loves smut.

“He’sthrobbing,eachridgeof his interstellar appendage sending shivers coursing through me. One of his tentacles snakes around, teasing a—In one-thousand feet, turn left.”

“Fuckkk.” Fern exhaled, throwing on her blinker even though she hadn’t seen another car in over an hour.

“Slick line down my back before it disappears between my—Turn left.”

She swung wide onto Wrentham River Road, and the U-Haul attached to her sedan did a little dance before it got back in line. The scene in her book carried on as her mind wandered ahead, down the road to Beckett Falls, where one of her two best friends was waiting for her.

Olivia had moved to the rural northern mountain town nearly ten months earlier and established herself as the local teacher before becoming the girlfriend of the town council president. Apparently, they were really into the town council in Beckett Falls, and Ben’s role came with a lot of respect. They were basically famous.

As odd as the place might be, it still offered an exciting opportunity for a fresh start. Fern had heard somewhere that the urge to run away was a trauma response. That kind of made sense. It wasn’t like there was one specific thing that had her fleeing the city for a practically non-existenttown twohoursfrom the nearest big town. No, it was death by a thousand cuts.

That was dramatic.

An amalgamation of stressors drove her to move. It was an “I’m sick of my job, a new opportunity came up, and my mom annoys me, so I’m going to hit the road” response. That was more like it.

She wasfine, just a typical late-twenty-something who hadn’t accomplished much with her life and was sick of aiming to impress her mom and society as a whole. She wasn’t impressive, and it was exhausting trying to be. She didn’t want “more,” she wanted “different.” She wanted a chance to define who she was on her own.

A new beginning was in order, and when Liv offered Fern a salon to manage, she'd scooped up the opportunity. Maybe she’d find someplace to settle in and settle into herself. At the very least, she could give it a shot.

She grabbed her coffee, scritching her nails over the accordioned cardboard sleeve as she avoided a pothole and listened on.

“Swept into a many-armed embrace, we cocooned inside our sleep pod for the final six trillion miles of our journey. I couldn’t wait to meet his brethren in the morning. Chapter twelve, Xyzandyr.”

A glow through the trees caught Fern’s attention, then disappeared again when she rounded a bend in the road. Pausing her book to see better, she leaned into the steering wheel and squinted through the dusky woods. Yep, there it was again. Not headlights like she’d thought, but a stationary lamp.

It had to be the gatehouse Olivia told her to look out for. Sure enough, one final turn in the road delivered her to a quaint little cabin with plank walls and a green roof. It matched the trees. Her headlights lit up the woodsy facade as she rolled to a stop just in time for the front door to swing open.

A broad guy with dark hair and a pastel outfit stepped onto the porch and lifted his chin. Wearing boat shoes and a sky-blue button-down—rolled to his elbows—he was shockingly preppy given his bouncer-like build and proximity to the forest. There wasn’t an ocean for hundreds of miles.

Her window squealed on its way down, and the scent of warm pine and mossy earth wafted into the car. Head sticking out the window with her elbows propped on the doorframe, she called, “Hi!”

“Fern?” Cocking his head to the side, a swath of brown-black hair swung off the top of his head, flopping down in one thick wave.

He looked vaguely familiar, but he could’ve been a stranger. “Yeah.” She waited for him to introduce himself, and when he didn’t, she continued, “When Liv said to stop at the gatehouse, I didn’t realize I was getting a personal welcome.”

Laughing, he sauntered closer, explaining, “It’s my job to be out here overnight. Keeps the town safe.”

“Oh, that’s... interesting.” A little odd but neat. Olivia hadn’t mentioned overnight guards, but she would’ve said something if it was a dangerous place. “And you are?”

“Adam Ableman.”

“Oh my god, Able! It’s so nice to meet you in person.” Flinging off her seatbelt, Fern swung open the door, and he hopped out of the way. She gave him no warning before throwing her arms wide for a hug. “The only times I’ve seen you, you were in the background on a flailing phone screen. How are you?”

He grunted and patted her on the back, tentatively accepting her embrace.

“You’re taking it like a champ,” Fern announced before pulling away. They weren’t strangers, not really. He was one of Liv’s boyfriend’s best friends, and Liv had become close with him too. Fern assumed they’d also become buds sooner or later, so she’d gone straight for his nickname and a squeeze—once she realized who he was.

“I’m doing well, thanks for asking. Liv and co are expecting you up in town.” He hooked a thumb over his shoulder toward the darkening woods, and she assumed the village was that way.

The whole place could’ve been considered a village, population-wise, but Liv had said never to use that term unless Fern specifically meant the cluster of houses and shops on the ridge. That hadn’t meant much to her, but she’d nodded along to Olivia’s lesson, delivered on a video call, andvowed to follow the weird rules.

A few minutes later, armed with information and back in the driver’s seat, she waved goodbye to Adam, turned off her GPS, turned on her book, and headed toward her new apartment. Xyzandyr waxed poetic about his beloved two-legged, Jessica, while Fern repeated Adam’s directions aloud so she wouldn’t forget them.

Just as she took a sip of coffee, her phone rang, interrupting the narration. Mom’s deceptively cute picture popped up on the screen, and Fern shoved her drink into the cupholder while smashing the answer button.