Page 14 of The Dixon Rule

He punctuates that with a shrugging emoji.

I stifle a sigh. I did tell him we could be friends, but it was a way to soften the blow. Except now I look like a total ass if I take it back.

ME:

Hey, sorry for not getting back to you sooner. I was out with Gigi. If you want to watch some reality TV with me, you can come by for a bit, but I warn you I’m planning to go to bed early. I’m working the breakfast shift tomorrow.

PERCY:

I’ll stay an hour, tops. See you soon.

I can practically feel the excitement pouring off his words. And I see that same enthusiasm in his smile when I swing the door open less than twenty minutes later.

“How’ve you been?” I ask after I let him in.

“Good. I was just at Malone’s meeting with a realtor.”

“At eight thirty at night?”

“Yeah, he met up with me after work. I told you my landlords are selling the house, right? This real estate agent is trying to help me track down another place, but there’s really nothing available. I might be screwed.”

Percy’s been renting a townhouse in town, but just like how jobs in Hastings are scarce, so is housing. Although Briar is only a ten-minute drive, Hastings is not technically a college town, which means we’re not set up to house thousands of students. Only in the last couple of years did the Hastings town council even agree to allow buildings taller than three stories.

“Oh my God, will you have to live in the graduate dorms?” I ask sympathetically.

Percy sighs and runs a hand through his hair. He has such great hair. A sweep of thick, brown strands that are perpetually wind-tousled even when it’s not windy. He also has chiseled cheekbones and pale skin, a combo that gives off Victorian prince vibes. He’s always seemed so much older to me and not simply because he is. I would honestly buy it if you’d told me he was some immortal creature who’s been alive for centuries.

Groaning, he kicks off his loafers and follows me into the living area. “I can’t live in the dorms. Some of the singles are nice, but the only ones left have a communal bathroom. Christ. I’m a total germaphobe. You know I need my own bathroom.”

“I don’t blame you. So do I.”

I offer him some tea and we chat more about his living arrangements while waiting for the kettle to boil. It isn’t until we’re seated on opposite ends of the couch that he inquires about me.

“So how are you doing?” he asks awkwardly.

“I’m good. It’s shaping out to be a busy summer.” I wrap both hands around my mug. “Juggling two jobs is going to be rough. I’m basically working every day of the week.”

“I love your work ethic. Reminds me of myself. I worked three jobs when I was doing my undergrad.”

“Right, I remember you telling me that.”

We both sip our tea. I notice him watching me over the rim of his mug and know he wants to ask me something else. Probably if I’m seeing someone. Fortunately, he squashes that impulse.

“So, are you ready for this?” With my free hand, I grab the remote off the coffee table. “The new season of Fling or Forever starts next week.”

He grimaces. “Can’t believe you made me watch a whole season of that junk.”

“Three episodes, Percival. You only watched three.”

“That’s three too many.” Humor dances in his moss-green eyes.

Okay, this isn’t too bad. Maybe we can be friends.

I find TRN and curl up against the arm of the couch with my tea as Fling or Forever’s “Meet the Cast” special flashes on the screen. For the next thirty minutes, Percy and I watch the show, offering running commentary about this season’s first ten contestants.

“Holy shit, that’s Steven Price,” I exclaim.

“Who?” Percy asks blankly.

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