Page 5 of Unravel Me

“Call me.” She tucks a piece of paper into his hand, smiles up at me, and kisses my cheek. “Thanks for the party, Aaron.”

“Adam,” I mumble as she walks by. I turn back to Jaxon, lifting my brows at his irritating grin. “You can’t go a single—” My jaw drops, a brunette popping out from behind him. He calls her baby, too, when she leaves him her number. I shake my head. “No.”

He grins wider. “Yes.”

Unbelievably, a third girl with jet black hair steps out, anotherbaby, another number. I’m 99 percent sure he’s only calling them baby because he doesn’t remember their names.

Still, my jaw drops a little lower. “No.”

“Y—”

“My parents sleep there when they visit! That’s a new mattress! I just bought it!”

“It’s been christened for their next visit. Deacon and Bev can thank me later.”

He follows me to my room, telling me about his wild night as I tug on shorts and a T-shirt. That shit goes in one ear and right out the other, and I drop an elbow to my dresser and open my Tinder inbox. The bright red bubble telling me I have ninety-seven waiting messages spikes my blood pressure. I ignore them and navigate to the third one on the list.

Alessia

Can’t wait to c u tonight *kiss emoji*

The kiss emoji throws me for a loop. We haven’t met in person, so it feels a little forward. Carter says I’m just old fashioned, but I don’t know.

Me

Me too. See you at 7. *smiling emoji*

*kiss emoji* *kiss emoji*

I tuck my phone away, trying not to catastrophize. I’m already regretting tonight’s date, but to be fair, life’s been one dumpster fire after another for the last fifteen months or so.

I look down at Bear. “Food, then hikes?”

He licks his nose and rushes from the room.

Jaxon grins. “Big Macs?”

“Fucking Big Macs.”

CHAPTER2

NOT THE WORST WAY TO GO

ROSIE

“Do you ever take a day off?”

I look at Archie, my coworker, best friend, and roommate. He’s sitting behind the reception desk, wearing blue scrubs with puppies and kittens on them. He’s six feet tall, super broad, and covered in tattoos. The adorable scrubs are forever the highlight of my day.

“I’m not working today.”

“Right. You’re just here on your day off, and you’re definitely not going to spend time with any of the animals.” He cocks a brow. “Volunteering is the same thing as working, Rosie.”

I roll my eyes, signing the visitor check-in. “Has anybody been in to walk Piglet today?”

Archie smiles sadly at the computer screen. “You know the answer to that.”

Of course I do. Piglet is a sixty-five-pound German Shepherd with about the same amount of anxiety as me, which is, according to my entirely blunt and lackadaisical therapist, a fuckton. She needs time, patience, and love; most of those things go out the window with the other volunteers after a few short minutes of trying.

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