Page 148 of Hometown Halftime

“But what if I asked her to come with me?”

Poppy’s eyes turn sympathetic. “Riley, do you think she would leave?”

“I’m not sure; I haven’t asked her.”

She sighs. “Have you two even talked about feelings yet?”

“No,” I look down at her hand, “but fuck, Poppy, this is so different from any other relationship I’ve ever been in. I can’t imagine that she doesn’t feel the same way.”

Poppy gives me a tight smile. “Then I think it’s time you two had a talk.”

Chapter fifty-eight

Kinsey

Wednesday at Gordy’s feels like a dumpster fire.

Every table is full, the kitchen is running behind, and someone in the corner booth has already asked me for so many soda refills I’ve considered just stretching the soda gun from the bar across the room.

Thanksgiving Eve in Cedar Falls has brought out everyone within a fifty-mile radius who doesn’t feel like cooking and every twenty-something that’s come home to visit or is ready for a drink to escape their family.

By three o’clock, my feet hurt, my ponytail is sliding loose, and I’m hiding in the back hallway near the employee lockers, trying to inhale half a turkey wrap before someone yells my name again. That’s when I finally check my phone and see three texts from Riley, one from Brynn, and a missed call from my landlord. My stomach drops seeing his name. I swallow my bite quickly before calling him back while leaning against the wall.

“Hey, Sam. It’s Kinsey. Sorry I missed your call. I’m at work.”

“Hey, Kinsey. No worries.”

“So, what’s up?”

“Well, good news finally.” Papers shuffle on his end. “The contractors finished most of the repairs yesterday. Flooring’s done, drywall’s replaced, and maintenance should finish installing the kitchen cabinets next week.”

I close my eyes because I already know where this conversation is going.

“You should be able to move back in on January first.”

January first.

A brick settles in my stomach hearing that date. Not because I miss the apartment. To tell the truth, that place had terrible heating, and a shower that switched between freezing and lava temperatures with absolutely no warning.

But January first means I won’t be living with Riley anymore. I won't fall asleep against him anymore. There won’t be any more sleepy kitchen dancing, and I won’t have the comfort of knowing he's just downstairs while I get ready for work.

And suddenly the countdown feels painfully real.

“Are you still there?” Sam asks.

“Yeah,” I answer quietly. “Sorry. Sounds great.”

“We’ll do the walkthrough a few days before if that works for you.”

“Okay.”

We finish the conversation a minute later, but after I hang up, I stand there staring down at my phone while noise from the restaurant buzzes through the hallway.

We only have a little over a month. That’s all we have left living under the same roof.

It was foolish of me, but lately I stopped thinking about Riley leaving. Not because I forgot it was coming, but because loving him started feeling more real than losing him.

“Kinsey!”