Page 32 of Surprisingly Us

“It slipped out. I am technically your boyfriend, though. I’m a friend that’s a boy.”

She glares at me but holds open the door. “That’s not how you made it sound.”

I follow her to the elevator and place my arm over the door while she enters.

“I like Mrs. Donahue. She seems nice.”

“She is nice, but sometimes a little senile. She refuses to move out of her apartment and into an assisted living situation. I do my best to keep an eye on her.”

“That’s nice of you. You’re such a good person, Lettie. Such a good friend who helps others when they’re in a difficult situation.”

I give her my most charming smile, but her features stay wary as she punches the button for the third floor.

“Thanks. I guess.”

A quick ride later, she’s opening her apartment door and I follow her in.

“So, this is your apartment.” I glance around, taking everything in.

It’s clean and tidy, decorated in neutral tones. There’s a dry-erase calendar on the side of the refrigerator that needs a key to decode. Over by the living room window, there’s a cat climbing tower positioned perfectly for outdoor viewing and lounging by its furry gray occupant.

“You have a cat.” A warm sensation floods my chest.

Lettie finally got her cat.

“That’s Maxine. I’ve had her for two years.”

“Remember when I tried to give you the cat that belonged to the Jenkins’?”

Her lips twitch. “How could I forget?”

Lettie was five and I was ten. She wanted a cat so badly, and my ten-year-old brain thought it was logical to give a cat to a young girl when its current owners were older and might not be able to take care of it any longer. It was poorly thought out and when my parents found out what I had done they made me return the cat to its home and Lettie was heartbroken. The next day, I used my allowance to buy her a stuffed cat as a replacement. She named it Whiskers and carried it around everywhere she went.

I scan the kitchen. Everything neat and tidy. Nothing out of place.

Lettie toes off her sneakers and lines them up by her door.

There’s a decorative bowl of fruit on her counter. A shiny red apple calls to me, so I pick it up and take a bite.

“Did you just come over to eat my food, because that’s annoying. I was going to eat that later with some almond butter.”

“Oops, sorry.” I extend the apple now with a huge bite taken out of the side to her.

She waves it back to me. “Well, I don’t want it now.”

My eyes drop to her laptop on the counter. I tap the spacebar and it wakes up. There’s no password or pin to put in. It opens directly to the website Lettie was on last.

“Do you mind?” she asks, rushing over.

“Not at all.” I shift the computer to get a closer look, blocking her from taking it. “What’s this?”

“Nothing,” she answers quickly.

But if it’s nothing, then why is her voice two octaves higher than usual?

She moves to skirt past me and reach for the laptop, but I snatch it up and out of her grasp. I take another bite of the apple while my eyes scan over the screen.

It’s a dating profile. One she’s currently in the middle of filling out.

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