Page 45 of Roommate's Guide to Love

He shakes his head. “I visited one more summer. But she never came to graduation. And at that point I was eighteen. Both my dad and the state of Tennessee said I was free of visiting obligations.”

I have no words, because the idea of not seeing either of my parents for years at a time—or ever—unfathomable to me. Even living away, I made sure to get home at least twice a year and my parents visited plenty of times. “You couldn’t have imagined what would happen. Not with your dad’s passing. Not realizing that you stopping to visit meant never seeing her again. Not with…”

I was about to say “not with your half-sister showing up out of nowhere,” but I’m guessing I’m not supposed to know that.

“If you meant to finish that sentence with ‘seeing my sister for the first time since she was in a diaper on a random Saturday,’ you win.”

Holy shit. For once George and Harry had their stories right. “Yeah…something like that.”

Porter leans back in his chair, rubbing his hands across a face that is clearly well past the five o’clock shadow window.

“She just showed up out of nowhere.”

“Did she say why?”

He shakes his head. “Said she was visiting Nashville and said wanted to come down and see me, but something felt even off about that. We talked a little before she ran out of here.”

That’s random. Nashville’s only about a forty-minute drive—hour if the highway is backed up—but it seems weird to come all that way for a quick visit.

The confusion I’m feeling is nothing compared to what I’m seeing in Porter’s eyes. The man looks haunted. Lost. Just staring at the computer like he’s trying to find the answer in this twenty-year-old picture.

“You know you can let it out, right? Say what you need to get off your chest. I know it’s been a minute, but if you do remember, I’m a pretty good listener.”

He shrugs, and suddenly I’m transported back to that first night. Granted, that talk was out back. But the emotion is right on par.

“She has my mom’s eyes.”

Now things are making a little more sense. Jenny was right. Seeing his sister today opened up a whole big-ass can of worms. “I’m guessing you thought you were never going to see those eyes again?”

Porter sits back up. “Not in a million fucking years.”

He recounts the events of the day. As he’s talking, I’m listening, but I can’t stop staring at the emotions tugging at his features. His eyes are a mixture of confusion and anger, but there’s a sadness to the rest of his face. He looks defeated.

I hate seeing him like this. Porter is a good man. Has made a life for himself and kept his dad’s legacy alive in this bar. He sponsors Little League teams and donates to town festivals.

And in the blink of an eye, a blast from the past knocks him off kilter.

“Damn,” I say when he finishes. “No wonder your head is spinning. I still wonder what she wanted, because you’re right—something is off.”

“Right? It’s just…I feel like she was about to tell me something before she got spooked and ran off. I don’t have her number, and God knows I’m not at the point yet to call my mom to ask her for it. I just can’t get out of my head that she was here for a bigger reason.”

“Did she ask for money?”

“No, but that would’ve at least made sense,” he says. “I would’ve given her some. She’s my sister, no matter how long it’s been since I’ve seen her. But I feel like she wouldn’t have sprinted away if it was just about borrowing a few bucks.”

“Think she was casing the place? Or is that my too many hours ofLaw & Ordercatching up to me?”

My second attempt at a joke falls flat. I’m really off my game tonight.

“What could she have wanted, Quinn? I think not knowing is worse than anything she could’ve asked me for.”

Porter gets up and starts pacing back and forth in his small office. “I hate that this is going to keep me up, but I can’t stop thinking about the worst. That she’s in trouble or something. Or maybe you’re right. Maybe she was going to rob me tonight. She was looking around the bar. Maybe it was for security cameras.”

“No, don’t let my warped mind take over.” Porter walks past me, and without thinking, I take his hand as he’s mid step, stopping him in front of me. “You’re a good guy, Porter McCoy. Don’t think the worst.”

He laughs, and apparently Porter’s body is also separate from his brain because he takes my other hand in his. “Don’t let it get out. I have a reputation to uphold.”

“I’m serious,” I say as I look up into his eyes. “You’re worried because you care, even if you don’t know her. It’s okay to be confused. If she really needs your help, she’ll be back. And if she doesn’t, well, then this is just a very weird day in your life. But don’t put any blame or worry on your shoulders. That’s not your responsibility.”

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