“So you’ve said before.”
“Well, you have. Why do you care so much about what my sister does?”
“It was a spur of the moment thing. I told you that. I took pity on her.”
Colt made a noise that was halfway between a grunt of acquiescence and one disbelief, but he didn’t argue the point any further.
I got it. It was weird that I was helping her, but it would be even weirder if he knew I’d crushed on his sister for years.
When we were thirteen years old, we’d promised each other that we’d never hit on the other’s sister.
So far, I’d kept that promise.
I just hoped like fucking hell I’d carry on keeping it.
***
KINSLEY: What are you telling these people on the internet?
ME: ???
KINSLEY: Someone just wondered why you aren’t dating me if I’m so great.
Oops. Maybe I’d talked her up a little too much.
Also, I’d promised her brother I wouldn’t.
ME: I might have talked you up a little.
KINSLEY: I’m not sure what else you could have said. I gave a stunning account of myself in that bio, Josh.
ME: You tooted your own horn, Kins. It’s not that exciting.
KINSLEY: Well, excuse you.
ME: That’s not what I meant.
KINSLEY: What did you mean?
ME: That the internet is full of fakery and you know it. You were honest in your bio, other people might not be.
KINSLEY: Yeah, I know that. I read.
ME: You know your romance books aren’t real, don’t you?
KINSLEY: If they were, I’d have killed Alexandra by now.
ME: Who the fuck is Alexandra?
KINSLEY: This bitch who picked the wrong guy.
ME: So she’s in a book.
KINSLEY: Well she’s not trapped in an oyster, Joshua.
ME: You know people don’t pick the wrong guy in real life, don’t you?
KINSLEY: You are so freaking cute I could put you in my pocket and feed you to the wolves without a second thought.
Well, that told me.
ME: That sounded like a big old insult, Kinsley.
KINSLEY: Oh, good. You do still have some brain cells.
ME: If I were you, I’d be nice to me. I’m setting up your dates.
KINSLEY: Yeah, can you NOT set me up with people who do sports?
ME: I didn’t.
KINSLEY: Yeah, no, you did.
ME: ????
KINSLEY: One of these guys is from Twin Peak and skis!!! SKIS, JOSHUA!!!!
KINSLEY: Do you know what I do with skis?
KINSLEY: I beat the people who displease me with them.
ME: Sounds painful.
KINSLEY: Why don’t you come over and you can find out?
ME: I’ll pass.
KINSLEY: Why? Are you naked? What are you wearing? Is it a little silky number with lace?
ME: WHAT. THE. FUCK?
KINSLEY: I was practising my sexting. No good?
ME: Men don’t wear silky numbers with lace.
KINSLEY: Good to know. Neither do women. At least not when we’re texting guys.
ME: Really?
KINSLEY: Really. We’re usually on the toilet.
ME: That’s more information that I needed to know.
KINSLEY: Relax, Cupid. I’m lying on the sofa without a bra on. I don’t like you enough to text you while I poop.
ME: Thank you for the visual.
KINSLEY: You’re welcome.
KINSLEY: Do you think I should text that to the nice electrician guy who lives in Moose Knuckle?
ME: As your matchmaker, I think that’s a little forward before a date.
KINSLEY: So should I arrange a date?
I paused.
A massive lump had taken up residence in my throat, and I stared at the screen for a moment. I knew the answer there was yes, but there was a big part of me that couldn’t bring myself to say it.
I was fucking this up already.
ME: You’ve been signed up for ten minutes. Just hold on until you’ve spoken to some other people.
KINSLEY: Ugh, okay, DAD.
ME: I can’t talk to you when you’re like this.
KINSLEY: Should I go to my room?
ME: This is getting uncomfortable.
KINSLEY: I’m going to need a new friend to practice sexting with.
ME: If that was sexting, it was the worst attempt I’ve ever seen.
KINSLEY: Are you familiar with it?
ME: Goodnight, Kinsley.
KINSLEY: JOSHUA!!!!!!!
KINSLEY: Hello?
CHAPTER FIVE – KINSLEY
rule five: spoilers aren’t a thing in real life.
be patient, kinsley.
Wow.
There was a lot of dick pics on the internet.
Yes, yes, yes. I knew I was only supposed to talk to Josh Approved Guys—capitalization necessary, if anyone should end up reading my inner monologue as a future novel—but I was intrigued by the kind of people who did genuinely contact women on these websites.
And holy moly!
I was so leaving this to Josh.
He wanted to do this, so he could spend his days staring at all the schlongs that found their way into my messages. This was definitely not in my job description.
I really didn’t care how thick Johnny_435’s penis was, and nor did I care about the length of KasperTheHungGhost’s dick.
Although I did enjoy Kasper’s username. I was almost tempted to message him and tell him I found his pun amusing, but then… well, he’d probably take that the wrong way and think his dick pic had worked.
It had not.
Of course, none of that explained why I was standing before a dog crate full of ducks.
“But why are there ducks?” I asked, staring at them.
Saylor shifted uncomfortably next to me, presumably just as confused as I was. “They wanted ducks, so they got ducks, I guess. They do have the pond now.”
That was true. There was a huge pond in the center of the gardens of the retirement community that had been recently built, more to be a nice communal seating area for the residents as opposed to a duck pond. Since they’d lobbied for the ducks—a little too successfully, judging by how many were quacking their annoyance at being confined in the crate—they were now building another, smaller pond that would have a fountain and lilies and
