“Well, you know my internet boyfriends?”

I chuckle and nod, realizing she really is the internet’s bestie and a lot of her life is online.

“Well, they also don’t know who I am. And I gave them my creepy donation test, too.”

“They passed?” I ask, hopefully.

“With flying colors. But I’ll probably never tell them who I am, yet I feel completely in love with them.” She sighs. “So we can be lonely old spinsters together.”

I lift my wine glass in cheers.

“Blaire, I might have just met you in person. But thanks for being a really good friend to me these past couple of months. I’ve had trouble all my life making genuine friends, too.”

She smiles warmly. “Hell, I can certainly cheers to that.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

Levi

I round the corner of the cottage hesitantly. Mr. Rivers is a nice guy but even he has a limit. And damn, I’m starting to feel like a stalker for how often I come by this place.

His eyes move up from the piece of metal he’s buffing on a work in progress and meet mine.

“Oh lord almighty,” he says, standing up straight. “I’m never going to get any work done with you three. Go inside and join the others. I’ll be in when I’m finished.”

I don’t need to ask to know who the others are. Apparently, when Dean left to go on a run and Asher went downstairs to the studio to work on music, that actually meant coming to the cottage to see if Mr. Rivers has heard anything. It’s not the first time and it probably won’t be the last.

I navigate through the cottage to find Dean and Asher at the kitchen table. They look hopeful when I walk in but their faces fall when they see it’s me.

“Hey,” I say defeatedly as I sit down. It’s been months since Ruby moved to California. We’ve tried calling her twice a week since then because texting never felt sufficient. She has yet to pick up one of our calls. It’s become a rhythm at this point. We call. She doesn’t answer. We leave a voicemail asking questions about her life. We visit her dad and he mysteriously has some of the answers to our questions. We call her up again and she doesn’t answer. We talk to her voicemail about what we learned from her dad.

It’s ridiculous. But it’s what we have at the moment, and I’ll take it.

“You know I was all for Ruby going to California but I didn’t know it was going to come with another full-time job.” Mr. Rivers grumbles as he walks into the kitchen.

He walks past us and reaches into a drawer, grabbing a piece of paper. The man has even started taking notes during his phone calls with Ruby. He pulls the glasses hanging around his neck up to his eyes and works them back and forth until they fall where he wants them on his nose.

“Time for the weekly Ruby newsletter,” he says. “She’s working all the time, but she just started a new job she really likes where she gives historical home tours.”

“I’d like to see that,” Dean grins. “What kind of historical homes?”

Mr. Rivers looks at the paper. “She didn’t say.”

Dean huffs in frustration.

“She and Blaire are getting along really well. She’s throwing another one of her parties next week.”

I inwardly groan. Of course, Ruby moves out to Los Angeles and becomes best friends with a famous actress. And one who loves throwing lavish parties with lots of gorgeous people. It’s the kind of celebrity scene we’ve already experienced and frankly, got sick of pretty quickly. But Ruby seems to be enjoying it, as we painfully have seen on Blaire’s social media posts.

“Has she said anything about that stupid blond actor?” I ask. Last time there was a picture with Ruby in the background chatting with Mika Plymouth. He’s an up-and-coming Hollywood actor and probably fucks like a doofus. That’s my only solace. If she does hook up with him, it might just send her back into our arms sooner. But the thought still makes me want to tear every single one of my hairs out of my head one by one.

“No word about that dreamboat, Mika.” Mr. Rivers cocks an eyebrow at us. He still really enjoys torturing us. It’s become a hobby of his at this point.

“How does she sound?” Asher asks. “How are her spirits?”

Mr. Rivers nods. “She sounds good.” He pauses for a moment. “But tired.”

He takes off his glasses and puts them on the table.