Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 96312 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 482(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96312 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 482(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
“I have no need to try it,” I said, memories of my own hometown hurling themselves at me unhelpfully. It hadn’t been a small town like Legacy, but it had been small-minded and stifling.
The older woman eyed me. “Well, that’s a shame because I think you’d love it here, and I damned well know we’d love to have you.”
“She’s right,” Maya added. “You’re pretty fun. And I like that you’re different, too.”
Her words surprised me. I didn’t feel different. I felt like every other guy trying his best to make a living on social media while in constant struggle with his body image, personal relationships, and current state of relevancy. “Guys like me are a dime a dozen where I live,” I huffed. “I’m hardly different.”
Mrs. Hoffman pointed behind me at the wall of the hardware store, where a collection of framed photos hung in mismatched frames. One of them was of a younger Maddox Sullivan, bright-eyed and grinning with a man I assumed was his father. There was a lightness in his expression I rarely saw in him.
I remembered his nightmare, about the sheer amount of stress he was under. He was such a stubborn fucker he refused to let anyone help him.
Mrs. Hoffman noticed me staring at the photo of Maddox. “Something about you is different to him. You’ve got his antennae up unlike anything we’ve seen in years. Half of Legacy thinks you’re the best thing that’s happened to Maddox since… well, since before his parents died. And you make him different, too. Lighter. Like he remembers how to laugh.”
It was surprising to hear her say that. He seemed so care-worn and tired to me. Sad. Lonely. Walled up and defensive. If there was any way I could make him laugh, make him feel lighter, I’d do it in a heartbeat.
If he’d let me.
Maya crossed her arms over her chest, nodding emphatically. “She’s right. You should see him when he’s editing your videos. He gets this little smile on his face, like he’s seeing something no one else can see.”
“Until he remembers he’s supposed to be miserable and shuts down again,” I murmured.
Mrs. Hoffman patted my arm sympathetically. “He’s been hurt. Badly. Not just by that awful Michael person, but by life itself. When you’ve lost as much as he has, it becomes easier to push people away than risk losing them.”
The bell jingled again, and Sadie from the Pinecone breezed in, her apron dusted with flour. “Maya, honey, do you have any of those small screws for cabinet hinges? I have a cabinet door that has it out for me—” She stopped short when she saw me. “Adrian! Hey! I was just telling Margie Peterson how much the breakfast crowd has been talking about you and Maddox. Ever since that video of the two of you bickering over breakfast went viral, we’ve been packed every morning with people hoping to catch a glimpse of you guys being adorable over coffee.”
“They’re having relationship troubles,” Mrs. Hoffman informed her in a stage whisper.
“We’re not in a—” I tried before Sadie cut me off.
“Oh no. What happened? Did someone say something stupid? Please tell me it wasn’t Ned Harwick. That man has the social skills of a rusty nail.”
“It was Maddox,” Maya said bluntly. “Being an emotionally inaccessible disaster as usual.”
“Typical.” Sadie shook her head. “I swear, sometimes I want to shake him. Here he’s got this gorgeous, successful man who’s clearly crazy about him, and he’s probably sabotaging it because he’s scared.”
I felt heat rise in my cheeks. “Who said I was crazy about him?”
All three women turned to stare at me with varying degrees of disbelief.
“Hey, I know!” I said with a giant fake smile. “Let’s change the subject! Sadie, what’s your favorite part about living in a small town? Mrs. Hoffman was trying to tell me it’s possible to survive without delivery sushi, but I’m not sure I believe her.”
Thankfully, they allowed me to shift the topic, each sharing their thoughts on sushi and delivery food in general.
“If we had delivery sushi, though,” Sadie continued, “I might not have had a chance to try Hazel Marian’s ginger and almond salad, which I’m now obsessed with. She and her wife made it for me one night after a long day at work. To die for.”
Maya nodded eagerly. “Have you had Avery’s chicken scallopini? She made it for Maddox for his birthday, and I craved it for like three months. No matter how many times I’ve tried to recreate it, it’s never as good as when she makes it.”
They exchanged a few more stories of home-cooked meals before Mrs. Hoffman asked me what my favorite was.
“No one cooks for me, so I’m not sure,” I said, only realizing how pathetic that sounded after the words left my mouth.
Mrs. Hoffman’s smile dropped a little. “What about meals your mom made when you were growing up? Or your dad?”