My mother stands from the couch and walks over to where I’m seated, leaning down to cup the side of my face in her palm. “I love you, Hayes. I just want you to be happy. I want my son to be happy.”
“I know, Mom. I get it.”
She walks away and out of the room toward the kitchen just as my father adds his two-sense. “Your mother worries about you, and the more she talks about it, the more I can see it wear on her, and the more I’m beginning to agree. I was lucky, Hayes. I met your mom before I made my first million, so I knew she loved me for me. And then she stood by during the good times and bad. We’ve had our fair share of ups and downs as you will in any marriage, but at the end of the day, there is no one I’d rather have by my side until the end.”
“How did you know she was the one, Dad? How do you even begin to develop a feeling like that?” I ask, honestly curious because I have no idea how to determine something that monumental.
He tilts his head at me. “Have you ever been in love, son?”
“I don’t think so,” I answer honestly.
“That’s a no then,” he states, “because if you had, you’d know without a doubt that you were. I knew your mom was the one because she was the first person I wanted to share the good and bad news with, and the one whose mind and laugh I couldn’t get enough of. She was and still is my best friend.”
I huff out a laugh. “Well, Wes is my best friend and currently engaged, so that option isn’t viable any longer.”
My dad laughs as he stands from the couch, and I follow suit. “You’ll figure it out, kid. I have faith in you.” He pats my shoulder and then leaves the room as I stand in place and ruminate on the conversation that just unfolded.
Dinner with my parents never feels this stifling. It’s usually a check-in on work and a home-cooked meal that I miss more than I care to admit most days. But nothing this heavy.
My future? A wife?
I don’t even know what that looks like and I don’t know that I want to think about it, especially right now.
But if I know myself as well as I should, now that the seed has been planted, I’m going to have one hell of a time ripping the root of that plant from my mind any time soon.
Chapter 1
Waverly
Two Days Before New Year’s Eve
“What are you doing in here on a Wednesday?”
I finish hanging the gently used rain jacket on a hanger and then slide it onto the standing rack in front of me. “I have much more time on my hands these days, haven’t you noticed?”
“Bored?” Janet, the homeless shelter director, grins at me once I turn around to face her.
“Yeah, you could say that. I mean, I graduated from school finally, right? I was so ready to be done with homework, projects, and getting up early to attend classes. But now that I don’t have to, I have no idea what to do with myself.”
She chuckles and then picks up another stack of donated coats and sets them on the table for me to hang. “Well, you know we can always use your help around here.”
“That’s why I came. Plus, it keeps me out of the fridge at home. I find myself eating for no reason and then making trips to the grocery store for more food.” I think back to yesterday as I walked through the aisles and caught someone taking a picture of me. Apparently watching the sister of the owner of a hotel empire grocery shopping is extremely interesting and could bring in someone thousands of dollars. The photos the media will pay for these days are mind-boggling.
Janet shuffles around me and picks up another box of donated clothes, popping open the cardboard tabs and ruffling through them. “What about looking for a job? Wasn’t that on your list of things to do once you graduated?” She reaches out with a dark brown pea coat and I intercept it.
“I can’t do much until after the new year. My degree has to post and I want to add a few more things to my portfolio. Say, you don’t happen to have money in your budget to let me do the interior design on the shelter, do you?” I waggle my eyebrows at her. “I could really spruce up the place, give it some life.”
Janet peers around the room, taking in the dingy walls that used to be white but are more of a cream color now thanks to years of wear and tear. The place is clean and up to code, don’t get me wrong, but visual appeal is not a necessity at The Rescue Mission, the same place I’ve been volunteering since high school. “I’m gonna take a wild guess without even looking at the books and say no.”
I shrug and then grab a few hooded sweatshirts. “Worth a shot.”
“I know this is probably the last thing you want to hear right now, but try to enjoy this time. Once you start working, that’s all you do every day of your life until it’s time to retire.”
Rolling my eyes, I slide the last two coats on the rack and then spin around to face her again. “I know I should listen to you, being that you’re older and wiser and have known me for over eight years, but all the unknown about my life right now is making my anxiety spike through the roof.”
“You know what a good cure for that is? Orgasms.”
Laughter bubbles out of me at an alarming volume. “Ha! You’re funny.”
“What? You don’t agree? And remember, you don’t need
