Page 35 of Once Upon a Boyband
Laney
Twenty minutes later,I let myself into Adam’s house. His absolutelystunninghouse.
Goldie meets me in the entryway, and I follow her into a living room with whitewashed wood floors and simple furniture with clean lines in muted colors.
Just beyond the living room, I can see a spacious sunroom, windows filling every wall, where two desks sit facing each other, making me think this is where Adam runs the rescue. And probably handles theinvestmentshe mentioned, becausehello, the man obviously has money.
The kitchen is on the right, opposite a wide staircase with open risers and a modern iron railing. At the back of the living room, a half wall and a few steps down separate what can only be a music room. There’s a piano and several guitars hanging on the wall and a record player sitting next to a bookshelf that’s packed full of vinyls. I think about Adam telling me he’s more of alistenerwhen it comes tomusic. I didn’t believe him then, and I definitely don’t believe him now.
It’s all I can do not to cross the space and sort through the records, but that really would feel like snooping, so I head back through the living room and into the kitchen. The house isn’t fancy, but itisnice. This is not a space that was cobbled together on a budget using throw pillows from HomeGoods and furniture from Ikea. I know that look because it describes my house perfectly.
This is more elevated than that. Intentional and cohesive in a way that makes the whole house feel inviting. I make my way through the kitchen and find the barn keys exactly where Adam said they would be. Goldie seems ready to go with me, like she knows the routine, so I pull up Adam’s instructions, making sure I’ve got the entire message loaded, then the two of us head out to the barn.
The dogs greet us with a chorus of happy barks, and I talk to them by name as I make my way down the aisle with the rolling food cart Adam used the last time I was here. I give lots of pets and words of love as they each get their dinner, spending an extra-long minute with my sweet Ringo. It takes a lot longer to finish working by myself, but eventually, everyone is fed, and we’re ready to go outside. I’m a little nervous about letting them all out at once, but the dogs seem familiar with the routine, and no one gives me any trouble.
I spend the next forty-five minutes lounging in the grass while the late evening sun sinks behind the mountains and eight cocker spaniel puppies crawl all over me. Their mother is stretched out a few yards away, and she occasionally looks over at me, her eyes letting me know just how grateful she isfor the break. Ringo spends the entire time curled up on my lap, only shifting when he wants to lean up and lick my nose.
Soon, the field is blanketed in shadows, and a slight chill fills the air. Most of the dogs have wandered back to the barn door like they know as well as I do it’s time to go back inside.
Once everyone is secure in their kennels, I check on Taylor, who only went outside long enough to pee before finding her own way back to her bed. She’s resting peacefully, and I feel the wiggle of her puppies when I rest a hand on her belly.
“It won’t be long now, mama,” I say, giving her head a good scratch.
She licks my hand, her tail thumping against her bed.
As I lock up the barn and walk with Goldie back to the house, the first flickers of fireflies appear in the grass beside me. It’s full dark now, and I wonder if I’ve stayed long enough for Adam and Sarah to make it home. And not just because of Percy’s kiss comment. I would also love the chance to meet Adam’s sister.
Once I’m back inside the house, my phone pings with half a dozen messages. Unsurprising, since Sarah mentioned there wasn’t reception out in the barn. There’s one message from Dad and five from my little sister, Sophie.
Sophie
Hey. I need boy advice. You got a sec?
LANEY. It’s a random Tuesday night. I know you’re home rewatching Bridgerton. CALL ME.
What gives? Your phone is going straight to voicemail.
ARE YOU DEAD? Blink once if you need me to rescue you.
Mom says you’re probably just busy or whatever, so I’m just going to tell you what’s up.
I scroll through the next three messages without reading them because they arelong,and unless I’m going to crash on Adam’s couch and hang out for a while, this is not the time or the place to get into a text conversation with Sophie. My little sister cantalk,especially when she’s talking about boys.
When I get to the end of what can only be described as Sophie’s monologuing, her last few messages make me laugh.
Sophie
For real if something is actually wrong with you, please don’t think I’m shallow for texting about boy problems when you could be bleeding out or something.
Okay, should I be worried you really are bleeding out somewhere? Do I need to call Dad?
I’m calling Dad.
He says I’m overreacting and you're an adult with a life. So just, whatever. Call me when you’re back in the land of the living. Unless you really are dead, and then I’m totally telling Dad I told you so.
I send my sister a quick text, assuring her I’m alive and well and promising to call her later, then I stop in Adam’s kitchen to wash my hands. The hand soap is my favorite scentfrom Williams Sonoma, and I wonder if it’s something Adam orders for himself or if Sarah helps with stuff like that. Which leads me to wonder if Sarah lives here or has her own place.
I dry my hands on a dish towel sitting on the counter, then glance around the kitchen, looking for anything that might indicate one way or the other.
