Page 16 of Broken Instrument

Don’t be weak.

My phone rings a third time, and my chest tightens for a completely different reason, having nothing to do with exertion as I slow my pace and dig into my pocket again. A curse sits on the tip of my tongue as I slide my thumb across the screen, answering it blindly.

“Listen, I don’t have time for this right now. I know I should’ve called, but––”

“Fender?” a quiet, feminine voice interrupts.

My brows pinch as I pull my cell away from my ear and look at the screen. “Hadley?”

“Yeah. Hi.”

Shit.

I clear my throat and rub my hand over my face, Pixie’s leash still looped around my wrist as I try to catch my breath. “Hey. Sorry. I, uh, I thought you were someone else.”

“Oh.” Pause. “Okay? Uh, let’s try this again? Hi. This is Hadley.”

My mouth quirks up with amusement, and my breathing starts to steady. “Hey.”

“So…how’s Pix?”

I look down at Pixie to find her looking up at me, practically grinning. “She's good.”

“Good. You two are acclimating?”

My attention shifts to the quiet street, the drops of water still clinging to the grass from the sprinklers. The warm air filters through my lungs. I never would’ve experienced any of it if Pix hadn’t woken me up at the asscrack of dawn.

With a ghost of a smile, I mutter, “We’re doing all right.”

“Good,” she repeats. “So, I was wondering if maybe my niece and I could meet you at the park or something next weekend? I know you might be busy and all, but…” Her voice trails off but leaves her desperation hanging in the air.

I don’t blame her. Pixie’s kind of a badass. I’ve only had her for a few days, and I’m already attached. I can only imagine how her niece must feel knowing someone else is watching her dog.

“I can meet you,” I offer.

“You’re sure? I don’t want to be a burden.”

“You’re not a burden, Hadley. Just text me the time and place. I’ll meet you there.”

“Okay. Thank you, Fender.”

The sound of my name on her lips makes my brows furrow. It’s soft and sweet and laced with gratitude.

No one’s grateful when I’m around.

I clear my throat and look down at the concrete beneath my worn Nikes. “You’re welcome. See you then.”

7

HADLEY

“Hey, Mia, we gotta go––”

“I’m hurrying!” my niece snaps through the closed bathroom door.

Isabella dropped her off yesterday. Within fourteen hours, she’s gotten mad at me for snooping about her life, not having any food in the house, and––the issue I’d predicted––getting rid of Pixie.

So this? The fact she’s taking her sweet time and is going to make us late for our little meet-up with Fender at the park? It’s the icing on the cake.

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