Page 52 of Exes and O's

The porch steps sag under our weight. Our initial assessment was correct. This place is a serious project, but its original Victorian charm is still evident. The wood beams around the posts are carved into intricate curves and little swirls. The same swirls are embedded into the wood around the doors and windows, all of which look original.

When Mel opens the wooden double doors, a strong waft ofeucalyptus instantly clears my stuffed nose. The foyer is narrow, with an elaborate wooden staircase jutting from the middle, flanked by a winter garland. A heavily accented Bostonian voice booms from the back of the house.

And that’s when I hear it. “...the previous owners knocked down the wall to create an open living area...” It’s Cody. I’m sure of it. I haven’t heard his voice in years, but there’s a familiar cadence and rhythm to it that always reminded me of a TV news anchor.

Behind the staircase is an entranceway to the outdated kitchen. As Mel steps forward, a young couple and a man in a crisp gray suit pass the doorway. I instantly recognize the pronounced slope of his linebacker shoulders.

Mel points me to the kitchen to join the tour, but I hightail us upstairs to delay my fate.

For such a large house, the bedrooms are minuscule. Both bathrooms are severely outdated. I’m rambling about all the things I’d change about the house, momentarily under the grand delusion that I’m actually buying it myself, when Mel shushes me. “I think they’re leaving.”

“Thank you for the showing. We’ll be in touch,” a deep voice sounds from downstairs.

The door closes. Footsteps ascend the stairs. Panic ensues, and Mel tries to keep me in place, her hand over my mouth like a kidnapper. I’m like a mouse caught in a trap, just waiting to be discovered. It takes a solid moment, but I manage to wrench myself from her grip, ready to make a break for it. And I do just that. Heart pounding, I make it all of one step before slamming into Cody’s chest.

“Whoa. Where are you going?” He places his large hands overmy shoulders, stabilizing me as he leans back, his eyes widening in recognition. “Tara?”

“Hi,” I squeak like I’ve inhaled helium. It’s a far cry from my rehearsed facial expression and script, but at this point, I’m just thankful he recognizes me.

A wide smile spreads across his face. “No freakin’ way!” he says jovially, going in for a full-body hug. He used to smell like Dove soap and the laundry detergent his mom used. But now he’s wearing a strong, musty cologne I don’t hate.

From his Realtor photos, I knew he’d grown into his teeth. I knew he now boasted a wide, angular jawline that should probably be considered a crime. I knew his previously long, skater-boy blond hair was now coiffed to perfection.

But what wasn’t evident from his professional headshots was his height. I’d forgotten how tall he was, nearly six feet, though not quite Trevor’s height. I know this because Trevor hugged me exactly once, when I surprised him by cleaning the entire apartment a few days ago. When he pulled me into his hard chest, my cheek molded perfectly in between his pecs, the top of my head just skimming his neck. And yes, I was on the precipice of keeling over right then and there.

“I can’t believe it’s you,” I manage, half-strangled in Cody’s embrace.

He releases me, his eyes flickering over my chest. Thank God I wore my push-up bra today. “What are you doing here? In the market for a house?”

Just stalking you a little. Hope you don’t mind.“Oh, no. I mean, yes. Kind of. My friend Melanie and I are just checking out—”

“I’m looking for an investment property to flip,” Mel cuts inwith sharp confidence, saving me from myself. “I’ve come into a large sum of money from my late great-aunt.”

Cody buys her story. “Nice to meet you, Melanie. Tara and I actually went to high school together. Dated for, what? Two years?” He flashes me an enchanting, confident smile that reminds me of why I was so obsessed with him.

I’m about to point out that we dated for exactly three years and five months, but Mel makes a theatrical show of surprise. “No way! You dated? What a small world.”

Cody turns to me. “Still in Boston, huh?”

“Yup. Stuck around. I’m a nurse at the children’s hospital.”

“And you’re still an avid reader, I see?” He eyes the book jammed into my purse.

“Yup. That hasn’t changed,” I crow nervously. “I, uh, didn’t know you got into real estate.”Lies.

“Actually, you’re the one who gave me the idea to do real estate.”

“Really?”

“You said you could see me selling anything. That I’d make a good salesman.”

I match his wide smile. “It certainly looks like it.” My heart leaps. I’m the reason Cody found his dream career?

Cody refocuses on Mel. “You said you’re looking for a property to flip? You’re in the right place. This property is really special. So much history. The original owner was actually the granddaughter of one of the first Puritans who founded the city.”

Mel pretends to rub her chin pensively, studying the ornate wrought iron light fixture hanging over the stairs. “I’m not sure this is the right one. I don’t love history, and it’s a little grand forwhat I need. I think my pet gerbils would get lost.” She has taken this role-playing a little too seriously.

Cody isn’t sure what to say to that. But lucky for him, an elderly gentleman and a woman who looks to be in her thirties in head-to-toe Chanel enter the foyer below. They’re already examining the original crown molding, and they haven’t even removed their shoes. I assume they’re father and daughter, until the man gives her a playful smack on the ass. Cody glances down at them briefly with knowing recognition. “Oh, those are agency clients. I’m scheduled to give them a tour right now, but let’s catch up, Tara,” he suggests.

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