I text Lucy.
Me: I’m going to the grocery store and replacing your Mountain Dew. Do you need anything else?
She texts me back a selfie of her hugging a huge horse head.
Lucy: Yes, I’m going to need some kind of bucket to feed this guy when I bring him into the backyard.
Me: I think you might need a bigger backyard.
Lucy: His head is as big as my entire body! I just want to squeeze him.
THIRTEEN
Lucy
I walk up the front steps, feeling like a drowned rat. And not surprisingly, I’ve seen a few wet rats before.
I fumble with my water bottle, purse, and travel mug while I try to hit the code to enter the house. When I shift the water bottle to pull the handle, the coffee cup tips, and I get some old coffee dripping down my leg.
Lovely.
“Ugh. Today is just not my day.”
I kick my dirty shoes off on the porch and stumble inside. I set the water bottle down on the ground so that I can slip out of my wet coat. I don’t want to drip all over the front rug. I hang it up on the hook above the tray so that the dripping water will at least be a little contained.
Miles’ shoes are on the tray, and I grab them, chucking them onto the rug. I don’t want my coat to drip on top of them and it’s not like shoes on the rug are the worst thing to happen in this world.
I straighten and stretch, groaning as water drips from my hair running down the collar of my shirt. It’s cold, making me shiver.
“Rough day?” a feminine voice asks.
I spin around to stare at a young woman wearing a thick sweater and yoga pants, standing in the kitchen, watching me with an amused look on her face.
She has dark red hair, maybe what could be called auburn, and has the build of an athlete. I can see the muscle definition in her legs and arms, even through that sweater. She’s gorgeous, and she has a nice smile on her face.
I clear my throat, think of three hundred reasons why there would be a strange woman in the kitchen, and then answer her. “Well, this morning, there were two dogs that got into a porcupine. This afternoon, there was an escaped dachshund, who jumped out of his owner’s car in the parking lot. I’m pretty sure he had some greyhound in him because I chased him around and around the outside of the vet clinic—in the rain—and then…” I pause and hold up my bandage-wrapped middle finger. “Julius Sneezer bit me after his shot. Then, before coming home, I did a house call for a lethargic llama out in a field.”
The woman’s face reveals multiple emotions as she listens to my tirade, and I suddenly have the urge to apologize to her. But then again, she did ask.
“Sounds like you need something warm,” she says.
“I wouldn’t turn it down.”
She smiles and walks over to the mug cupboard as though she’s very familiar with it. “Why don’t you get all dried off, and I’ll make you something?”
“It’s a deal!” I start toward the hallway, then pause. “Oh, by the way, I’m Lucy, Miles’s roommate. Who are you?”
“I’m Ainsley,” she replies simply, as though that should explain everything. It probably does.
She must be Miles’s girlfriend. There’s a strange lump in my throat at the thought, and it must be because he hasn’t mentioned her to me. I don’t like to be left out. That’s why itbothers me. So, I force a quick smile and disappear down the hall to take a quick shower.
After getting dressed into a pair of sweatpants and a matching crop top, I pile my hair up on top of my head in a wet, messy bun. I was going for casual and cute, but my hair is sticking out at all angles, like it has other places it would rather be.
I’ll look absolutely disgusting next to Ainsley. And there’s nothing I can do about it. I take a deep breath and walk back out to the kitchen.
“Here!” Ainsley—whoever she may be—hands me a steaming mug. It’s my favorite mug—and I know it’s Miles’s favorite as well, given the way we both reach for it all the time. “Okay, that’s an adorable sweat set. I’m going to have to look for one just like it.”
I smile but don’t have the heart to tell her that she’s so tall she’d have a hard time finding sweatpants long enough.
