Page 11 of Rushing Into Love

Super. So my rent was going up, too. I was trying to keep a low profile while salvaging my career and now I was being forced into making a major life decision. Well, at least a year-long commitment. I moved the message to myTo Deal With Laterpile; right now, I didn’t even want to think about LA.

Next up, I reviewed my podcasts, trying to decide what to load this week.

How to keep it hot in the bedroom: the secrets to a long-lasting and fulfilling love life

Hmm, maybe I should have listened to that one more than once,I thought.Stop it. It’s not your fault Pax can’t keep it in his pants, I chastised myself.

How to tell if he’s The One

Again with the irony. I grimaced.

How to recover your love when a loved one cheats

Seriously? How was I ever going to keep my day job?I continued scrolling through the content until I found a podcast I was 99.9% confident I had nailed:

How to build—and maintain—healthy boundaries in a relationship

Yes, this was something I’d been practicing for years. I was positive I gave solid advice in this episode. Tapping a few keys on my laptop, I uploaded it to my blog. Perfect.

Buzz, buzz. Buzz, buzz.

I checked the name on the Caller ID. My mother. Was it too late to scrub that last podcast as well?

“Hey, Mom,” I answered in a faux-chipper voice. I did not want to field a bunch of questions right now.

“Hi, honey. Brooks told me you were staying with her indefinitely. What’s wrong?” Her words were normal, but her tone was accusatory. Kind of like, how did you screw up your lifenow? And why aren’t you more like your perfect sister?

I took a deep, but silent breath, before answering. “Nothing, Mom, just visiting. I’m fine, great really!” More forced cheer. Isodid not want to have this conversation right now…

“Is Pax with you?”

Damn, this woman cut straight to the chase.

“Nope, all alone. He’s filming.”Both true statements.

“Where? For long? How long will you be in town? And how come you didn’t come visit me?” she asked, rapid-fire.

“He’s in Montana, not sure, not sure, and I came to see Alex, really,” I answered quickly, used to her interrogations. She’d been doing this all my life.

“Strange he didn’t come with you. I thought you two were serious,” she pried.

“Eh,” I said, trying to sound nonchalant. I didn’t feel like going into the whole story with her, which would inevitably end with her doling out terrible relationship advice. “Not really. Anyway, Mom, I have an appointment in a few minutes, so I should go review my notes,” I lied.

“Well, oh-kay,” she lowered her voice and dragged out the words, trying her best to sound forlorn and incite guilt. I’d been over this in therapy time and time again.Resist the guilt, resist the guilt, her happiness is not your problem, her happiness is not your problem.

“I’ll call you later, promise!” With that, I clicked off, before she could get any more info out of me or lay on more guilt about choosing my sister over her.

Sheesh. I sighed again, then limped off to the shower. I wanted to at least look presentable when I saw Ryder again.

* * *

The physical therapyclinic wasn’t too far from my sister’s house; nothing in Peachtree Grove was. Benefit of living in a small town, I supposed. Any time I had to go somewhere in LA, I allotted at least an hour on account of the traffic. Here, you could be on the complete other side of town in less than ten minutes. It was kind of nice.

I did a quick once-over in the mirror before heading into the building. Teeth were good, eyeliner wasn’t smudged, hair was in a neat ponytail. I definitely looked presentable, in spite of the knee injury.

“Hi, I’m here to see Ryder McCauliffe, for PT,” I explained to the perky receptionist sitting behind the front desk. She glanced up at me from behind her computer.

“Name?”