Page 1 of Let Me Love You

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MIA

“Well, I did it,” I tell the girls, slapping my purse onto the kitchen counter. “I talked to Gertie.”

Gertie is our landlord. She’s also a thousand years old and has the personality of bad sushi, but the lady did give in and agreed I could stay in our place until the end of the summer. And even though I hate handouts more than almost anything in the world, I’m grateful. Because it means I have eighty-two more days before I need to find somewhere else to live. Eighty-two more days ofalmostaffordable rent and free utilities. And after that? Well. I’ll get there when I get there…if I don’t starve to death first.

Okay, I’m being a little dramatic. It’s not like I’m actually going to starve. Bartending earns me a decent amount of tips most days. But I can’t help it. Not when I just hung up the phone with my last potential employer, who informed me they hired someone else for the nursing position.

Yay, me.

“What’d Gertie say?” Ash asks as she fills the dishwasher with dirty utensils.

“She said I had until the end of the summer, then I need to find a new place,” I tell her.

“I still think it’s a stupid rule,” Blake interjects. Her bare feet are propped on the coffee table as she scrolls through her phone, only half-listening to our conversation. But I understand why she’s annoyed. This whole living situation is affecting her as much as it’s affecting me.

“So what if you want to live here after graduation?” she continues. “What’s the big deal?”

“No idea. But you know Gertie,” I mutter.

“Regardless,” Ash says, “I’m proud of you for actually talking to her instead of avoiding the conversation like you had been.”

“I wasn’t avoiding the conversation.”

“Uh-huh. Sure.”

So maybe I was avoiding the conversation, but it’s not my fault. I know the rules. I know Gertie only gives deals on rent to girls who are enrolled at LAU, and I knew as soon as I graduated a few weeks ago I wouldn’t qualify for said deals. But I also know my life is so up in the air right now if she kicks me out, I have nowhere to go.

Nowhere.

“Now, if I could get a job, that'd be great,” I announce, searching in the cabinets for a salty distraction.

Chips. Yes. I want chips.

“Oh, come on. You're gonna do awesome,” Ash tells me. “I'm sure last week's interview was great, and they're going to give you a call anytime.”

“Yeah, they already called,” I reply, grabbing the almost empty barbecue chip bag from the cabinet and digging inside. “And before you ask, no. I most definitely did not get the job.” It's not the first time I've had to say those words. And I have a hunch it definitely won't be the last, either. For some reason I still do not understand, actually getting a job with my nursing degree seems impossible lately.

Maybe it's like the old chicken and egg scenario. They want to hire someone with experience, yet I can't get said experience without a job where I gain it. However, as much as I want to believe this is the case, I have a hunch about what's behind all the rejections, but admitting it out loud is a bitch. I have a sinking feeling they've learned about my OnlyFans account and are hesitant to employ someone who could loosely be tied to the skin trade. I wasn't doing anything illegal, but as soon as I started posting explicit photos of myself, the lines blurred a little.

I pop another chip into my mouth and lean against the kitchen counter.

It doesn’t matter that I was safe and responsible and kept my face out of the photos. It doesn’t matter that I used a VPN and did everything in my power to keep my actual identity hidden. My ex, Shorty, just had to fuck me over.

I still can't believe the asshole sent out all my information to the world when he found out I’d created an OnlyFans account. Then again, he always was a fan of screwing me over, so I guess I shouldn't have been surprised. I let the thought settle into my bones as I set the bag of chips on the counter and grab a glass from the cabinet next to the fridge. With a flick of my wrist, I fill it with water from the tap and take a long drink.

I am royally screwed if I can’t find a nursing job soon. But I guess we all have our own shit to deal with, don't we?

Speaking of…

I turn to Blakely lounging in the family room like she doesn’t have a care in the world when we all know she’s in as much of a pickle as I am.

“Haveyoutalked to Gertie yet?” I ask.

Giving us her full attention, Blake tosses her phone onto the cushion beside her and props her elbow on the edge of the couch. “What’s there to talk about?”

“So I take it you haven’t decided where you want to stay next year?” Ash questions her as she grabs the detergent and turns on the dishwasher.

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