I turned to survey the living room that opened into the massive kitchen. There was an eat-in kitchen and a formal dining room through a square arch. The windows provided an amazing view of the city. It was a rare, perfectly clear day which afforded me a view of Mount Hood in the distance. It was already wearing its snowcap. It was late September and days like this would be few and far between. Soon, the rain would start, and it wouldn’t let up for months.
I walked into the kitchen with stainless steel appliances, dove gray cabinetry, and stark white quartz countertops. The house had been a splurge. I had the money, but I had been living modestly for years. But I wanted to be close to my grandmother, and when this house came on the market, I decided it was time to be a grownup.
I grabbed one of the cold beers from the fridge and walked upstairs to my bedroom. There were four bedrooms in the house. Three were basically suites and the fourth was more a young child’s room. It was too big for a single guy. And Grandma was right about the loneliness. The bigger the space, the lonelier it felt.
I didn’t really have friends in Portland anymore. We graduated and all went our separate ways. I spent a lot of time and energy getting my business off the ground. I loved what I did. I loved the alternative homes we designed and built based on what a customer wanted and dreamed about. It was a lot of fun and pretty damn profitable.
I thought about Zoe. We had such a good time when we were younger. I wondered if she was still around. Would she want to see me? I couldn’t say why we didn’t talk anymore. It was just one of those things. There was nothing that happened or went wrong. I couldn’t even remember the last time we talked.
But I remembered the moment we met. We’d both been at summer camp. I was ten, almost eleven. She had just turned ten. We were both a little shy and awkward. Maybe that was what drew us together. We had been inseparable the rest of camp. We had been best buds until my family moved out of Portland. We kept in touch via text and video calls. Every day, we would send each other silly memes or share videos we had seen to make the other laugh. When we came back to visit Grandma, I always found time to see her.
It would be nice to reconnect with her. Now that my business was successful, it didn’t require as much time and energy as it used to. I could take a step back and maybe have a life outside work. I was sure Zoe would be willing to catch up. I was going to do it. I was going to email her and let her know I was back in town. I would invite her to coffee, something neutral and innocuous. I didn’t know if she had a husband or boyfriend and didn’t want to step on any toes.
“Thanks, Grams.”
Without her encouraging it, I probably never would have thought to reach out to Zoe. I’d kick around this big house by myself every night and lament my loneliness without actually doing anything about it.
CHAPTER 3
ZOE
I quietly hummed along to the song that had new meaning for me. “You betrayed me, and I know you’ll never feel sorry for the way I hurt,” I murmured the words to my new favorite song. I had my earpods in and was gently swaying as I worked.
I was going to go cross-eyed. I’d been grading for at least an hour. At least I was trying to grade. I was still so angry with Karson I could hardly see straight. I didn’t want to give into the anger or the sadness. I wanted to cast a spell and forget he ever existed. Denial and avoidance were only getting me so far.
I was so angry with him for everything. Screwing his students was only half of it. I was homeless and I blamed him. Technically, it wasn’t his fault, but I still blamed him. I had not been worried when I got the eviction notice. I just assumed I would be moving in with Karson. I didn’t start looking for a place the minute I got the notice because it didn’t occur to me I would need one.
The housing market was a hot mess. The rental market was even worse. I had spent every single day of the last two weeks chasing down any lead on a rental I could find. I had paid so many application fees I was certain I could have bought a house by now—if there were any available. It was always the same thing—waitlisted. I just knew I was going to get twenty calls all at the same time after I found somewhere. It was feast or famine.
For now, I was crashing on my best friend’s couch and feeling like a total failure. I had a good job, decent credit, and I was still homeless. Where had life gone wrong? I knew where. Karson.
I met him in Vegas, which should have been my first clue it was never going to work out. What happened in Vegas should have stayed there. Rules were made for a reason. This was my own fault for trying to buck the system. Since meeting the little blonde bunny at his house, I had come to learn she was one of many. Turned out Karson had a real thing for the ladies and didn’t care if they were former students. He was banging just about anything that walked. So gross. It made me shudder to think I had been with a man that was sleeping around.
The last two weeks had been full of drama. I was certain my hair was going to turn gray. There was the stress of being evicted so the owner could slap a fresh coat of paint on the walls and re-rent my place as a luxury condo. It was still the same stupid one-bedroom apartment in an okay part of town but now because it was dubbed luxury, he could double the rent. There was no way I could afford the rent at this time and now I was homeless because, apparently, every other building owner had the same idea.
I glanced over at the blue totes neatly stacked against the wall. Zoe’s winter clothes. Zoe’s summer clothes. Zoe’s paperwork. That was what my life had been reduced to—totes. I was living out of totes.
“Sonofabitch,” I growled with frustration. I shook my pen, trying to make the red ink start flowing. I scribbled in a corner and got nothing. The littlest things could feel like the worst at my current stress level. The urge to throw it across the room was strong.
“Would you like a glass of wine to help that grading go down a little easier?” Autumn asked from the kitchen where she was making dinner.
I scowled at her. She laughed and went back to her cooking. I appreciated her so much. I did. But I was in a horrible mood and jokes weren’t working. Nothing worked. I had to find a way to get through the funk. I was certain I would be able to move on if I could just find a place to live. Unpacking and decorating a new place was the kind of therapy I needed. It would keep me busy. The epitome of a fresh start. I had my little nest egg from the software I helped Autumn’s man, Holden, test out. I was saving it with the hopes of buying a house one day.
My laptop, sitting open on the coffee table, dinged. I glanced over and saw a new email. I didn’t immediately recognize the address. And then I did. “No way!”
I quickly pushed away the papers I was grading and pulled the laptop closer. Autumn approached with two glasses of wine. “What’s wrong?” she asked.
“I just got an email from Riggs,” I said.
“Riggs?”
“My best buddy from middle school,” I said. “I haven’t heard from him in almost two years. To tell you the truth, I kind of forgot about him.”
I took the offered wine and clicked on the email. “What’s it say?” she asked eagerly.
“He’s back in town,” I said and scanned the words. It was brief and to the point. “He says he bought a house near his grandmother to help take care of her. His business is doing well. He asks how I’m doing.”