He almost started in on me, but one glare from Kelsey shut him up.
It was incredible.
After I’d paid, she grabbed half of my bags and walked out the door before I could beg for them back. I sighed and followed.
“I seriously can?—”
“Are you terrible at accepting help?” Kelsey asked.
I immediately shook my head. “I accept too much of it sometimes. This is supposed to be something I do alone.”
She blinked. “Oh. And here I am crashing your plans. I just wanted to chat with you a little, but I can leave you alone.”
“No, I don’t want that. I’d love to talk. When else would I thank you for helping?”
“No problem. Now, can I at least help you put everything up? I wanna see what your place is like now that you moved in.”
“Yes, of course. And it’s not much, but I’m trying to make it homey.” She and Wren had seen it when they welcomed me to town, but I’d done more work on unpacking ever since I moved in. It was a nice distraction from my writing.
It was a short walk to the apartment, and Kelsey gave meplenty of space as we walked in. I flipped on the light as we entered the kitchen.
“Wren did a great job here,” Kelsey said. “She did the coffee shop too. It’s hard to believe this part of the square was abandoned for over a decade.”
“Really?” I asked.
“Yep. The town ran out of money when I was a kid. We’re lucky that we’re doing so well again.”
“I bet the show and the library helped.”
“The show was a whole thing.” She rolled her eyes and grabbed a box of pasta. I showed her where it went before she continued. “They screwed Wren over at the end for the drama.”
“Was it the thing with her mom?”
“You’ve seen the show?”
“It’s why I moved here, actually.”
“Glad to hear about more of the good that came out of it, then. But that part was really bad.”
“It was kind of weird. Just like the whole love triangle thing was. Her thing with Henry was real, right?”
“Very much so,” Kelsey replied. “I hearwaytoo much about Henry, but she’s happy with him.”
“I love watching people fall in love,” I said. “I could tell that was real.”
“You’re a big romantic?”
“You could say that. I write about it. I want it ... one day.”
“You write?”
I nodded. “That’s what I’m doing on my laptop.”
“Are you published?”
“I am.”
“You should tell?—”
