Page 28 of Yes No Maybe

“They were best friends and in love—not many people know that. I used to cover for him when he’d sneak out. At the time, it was annoying, but after… I was so grateful that he had that. That he loved and was loved back. You know?”

“Better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all,” she repeats from earlier.

“Exactly. Then Ben died, and it brought everything back. Watching someone else move in here… well…”

“I reminded you of the life your brother lost,” she finishes for me. “I get it… and I won’t let anything happen to that door.”

I cover my relief with an uneasy chuckle. Maybe she’s not that bad after all. I tug my phone from my pocket and start texting. “I want to do something for you.”

“You don’t have to do anything.”

“It’s already done.” I hit send and tuck my phone away. “Rose and Vernon will request free bedroom furniture for your foster kid in the next newsletter. The people on this street have so much shit they don’t know what to do with.”

A warm grin eases up her cheeks. “Thank you… oh, ask for a desk, too?”

I reach for my phone again. “Absofuckinglutely.”

Her warm smile tells me I’ve leveled up, even when she says, “You cuss a lot.”

“Yeah, too much rap music as a kid, I guess. Mom doesn’t like it either.”

“I didn’t say I didn’t like it. It suits you. Somehow.” Her brow pinches as she slips by me as if bothered by her near-flirtatious remark.Was she flirting?It’s hard to tell.

We retreat to the living room, where I plop onto her couch. She refills her wine glass before sitting on the opposite side. Edgar hops up and snuggles in the space between us.

I point to the screen. “I love this show. Would you ever do that?”

She gives me a look likeof-course-I-wouldn’t, and I suppose it’s a dumb question, but I want to get her talking.

“Me, neither.” I clink my glass to hers for a gentle ting. “Cheers.”

After sipping, she fiddles with a throw pillow before saying, “So, your brother fell in love with the boy next door? That’s so beautiful and serendipitous… if you believe in that sort of thing. Is that why you write romance?”

“I used to be a journalist. I loved chasing stories and asking questions. But human-interest stories intrigued me the most. I love hearing people talk about life-changing moments. Few things are as life changing as falling in love, right?”

Her pinched brow reappears, and she stares into her glass.

“My fascination probably started with Devin and Corey—you’re right. I’m incredibly influenced and inspired by the people around me. But it works—Netflixis starting production on one of mine in Georgia soon.Cape Moon.Have you—”

“I haven’t read your books.”

Books are everywhere—lining the shelves, stacked in corners, and even wedged under the couch. It’s a slight punch to my ego that she dismisses mine when she’s clearly an avid reader.

“It’s romance… I don’t enjoy romance.”

“It’s not for everyone, especially when you have rules against it.” I wince at my carelessness.

“Ah, soyou’rethe Miss Marple now. Just when I was starting to like you.” Her words emerge lightly but with an uneasy twinge. I almost hear her conversation with Mira replaying in her head as she checks it for secrets. She gulps her wine.

“Sorry. I’m a writer. I’m like a sponge around people.”

“More like a vampire, sounds like, secretly sinking your teeth into other people’s lives.” She jokes, but it sounds half-hearted the longer she thinks about it.I’m losing her. Fast.

“A vampire, huh? I’m more Team Edward. No one gets hurt, promise,” I flash my best grin, hoping to catch her eyes, but she doesn’t look at me.

She sits up, sets her glass on the coffee table, and faces me urgently. “Wait, um. This sounds ridiculous—I know. Maybe it’s the wine talking, but I have to ask… Does your writing streak have anything to do with me?”

My eyes narrow in immediate defense. “Does it matter?”

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