Nash hands me a cup of coffee, taking the seat at my side. I don’t mean to stare bewildered at the offering.
The rockstar pauses with his own mug halfway to his mouth. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” I take a cautious sip—creamer and one sugar. It never even occurred to my ex to care how I take my coffee. And while I know caffeine is important to Nash, this feels significant. Which is silly. The bar for romantic entanglements shouldn’t be this low. Hot beverages and basic kindness.
Nash’s gaze remains dubious. Like I am not to be trusted regarding the highly important matter of whether he made my coffee right or not.
“It’s perfect,” I say. “Thank you.”
“You three should start eating.” Charlie places the stack of pancakes on the table.
Mom didn’t bother much with men. But none of her occasional boyfriends ever made breakfast. I doubt the idea even occurred to them. There’s a strong chance I need to raise my standards. I’m seeing this now. The need to please has led me astray. Same goes for just being grateful for any attention I receive. These bad habits have strongly contributed to me being taken for granted, and treated like shit.
It’s this sort of behavior that no doubt made my ex think he could kick me out while keeping me hanging around.
The fucker.
“What’s on your mind, my delight?” asks Nash.
“I should have put shrimp in his curtain rods. Taking the microwave plate and remote was insufficient for his crimes.”
“You mean your ex?” he asks. “Do you still have a key to the place? We could drive back and get it done. Go on a road trip!”
“You’d help me carry out my stinky revenge plot?”
“Sure,” he says with no hesitation.
“I don’t have the key.”
He shrugs. “Does it really matter? I mean, situations like this are why Baby Jesus invented bricks.”
“What on earth are you two talking about?” asks Grandma.
“Just some light breaking and entering followed by possible destruction of her ex’s property. I mean, it’s not like I don’t have lawyers and bail money. There’s nothing stopping us from carrying out this plan.”
I smile.
“June.” Grandma’s brows are right up there. “You wouldn’t.”
“He definitely deserves it,” I answer. “You’re right though. Having a police record is probably not the answer.”
“Oh, I already have one.” Nash downs some of his coffee.
“What for?” I ask curiously.
“Public nudity, trespassing, and disorderly conduct. I was young and high and it seemed like a good idea.”
Charlie clears his throat. “Is this really a story you want her to hear?”
“June and I have no secrets.” Which is when Nash pauses to ponder the statement with a touch more depth. “On second thought, every relationship needs a touch of mystery.”
I narrow my eyes on the man. He is so telling me the story later.
“Your choices now don’t exactly inspire confidence either,” says Grandma. “Running away from your life and going into hiding.”
“Like you didn’t say a hundred or so times that I should try life without the fame and lackeys.”
“That was before you took an interest in my granddaughter.”
