“Then it’s a good thing I want to keep you,” I reply with a laugh. And something odd settles in my chest as I realize I truly mean those words.
When I pull into the driveway, I park the car next to hers. I normally park in the garage, but it’s really messy in there right now, and I don’t want Lucy to break her neck tripping on something. Actually, I don’t want her to realize that I’m a secret slob. The organization and orderliness I have in the main spaces of my house does not extend to my bedroom and garage.
Lucy punches in the code to unlock the front door as she says, “Home sweet home.”
And I like the sound of those words coming from her mouth.
SEVEN
Lucy
THREE WEEKS LATER
I’m still working up the courage to tell Willa that I moved in with Miles.
The last couple of weeks have been a little hectic for her with her work and the court date. My poor sister had someone try to sue her for breach of contract. Willa easily won the case, but it had been a little stressful for her.
With so much going on for her, I didn’t want to make anything about me, which was why I told her I found a great place to live and that she should come visit after all the court stuff was settled.
And while I don’t like to take advantage of other people’s difficulties, It’s a relief I haven’t had to explain to her that I am living with her sort-of boss.
This morning, I made sure to leave some extra blueberry muffins on a plate for Miles before I left. This time, I threw all the dishes into the dishwasher before he could get to them. I want him to like having me there, not be aghast at my cooking messes.
I’m halfway to the veterinary clinic when my phone rings. I glance at the name on the screen and see that it’s Willa and decide I should probably answer it.
“Hello?”
“Are you living with Miles Granger?” Her voice is sharp and accusatory, like she’s asking me if I dabble in murder on the weekends.
I cough, trying to clear the immediate lump in my throat.
Uh-oh. I meant to be the one to tell her.
I really didn’t want her to find out from someone else. I grimace as I imagine the disappointed look that’s probably on her face. It should have been a red flag to me when I realized I was sneaking around with Miles. We had fun bowling a few weeks ago, and since then, we’ve gone to a movie, gone grocery shopping after work—when we were safe from running into Willa or Kingston—and started binge-watching TV together. I didn’t know having a roommate would be so much fun. But I feel bad that I haven’t said anything to Willa yet.
I pull over onto the side of the road and open my messages while I put Willa on speakerphone. “How did you find out?”
It had to have been Margaret. Or Miles.
I open a text thread to Miles.
Me: Did you spill the beans?
It says my message has been delivered but doesn’t tell me if it’s been read or not. I don’t know if this means he’s normal and he doesn’t turn on hisReadreceipts or if he’s deliberately ignoring me.
“Why didn’t you live with me if you needed to split costs with a roommate?” Willa sounds offended, which is exactly what I was worried about.
“Listen, Willa. I love you to pieces. Why do you think I moved here? To be close to you! But I already told you that I was notgoing to live with you. I don’t like your couch. Your apartment’s tiny, and there’s just not enough room for two people.”
“But Miles?” Willa asks.
“Is there something wrong with Miles that I should know about?” I ask as I keep staring at my screen, waiting for him to text back and fess up.
“No, he’s actually pretty nice.” She sounds defeated. “I guess I was just surprised since you guys don’t know each other that well.”
“Willa, if it makes you feel better, it all happened so fast,” I try to explain.
“But how—” she starts to ask. “Why Miles?”
