Meet Me Halfway(39)

“Just something with an asshole guy at work.”

“What do you mean? What’d he do?”

“Decided he was entitled to something he wasn’t.” I flicked my wrist. Rob was definitely not something I wanted to get into right now. “It’s fine; it was taken care of.”

His jaw tightened. He wanted to ask more. So, I did what I did best. I wiped the pained expression from my face, morphed it into something calm, and changed the subject.

“Did you see the landlord when he came out today?”

His brow creased, “No, but I was at work for most of the morning. Why did he come out?”

I took a sip of my coffee, leaning over the counter and sliding my socked feet back and forth across the tile like an ice skater. “I’m honestly not sure. I’ve been sending in fix-it tickets for my dishwasher and patio door, and he’s never shown up.” I shrugged, looking up in time to catch his eyes darting back to my face from wherever they’d been.

“Then how do you know he was here?”

“He cleaned up my fence and yard.”

“Huh.” His expression shuttered, becoming suspiciously neutral.

“I’d thought maybe he’d done it while he was here fixing the dishwasher, but it doesn’t appear so.”

“What’s wrong with your dishwasher?”

I waved my hand, “No idea. I’ve watched a few how-to videos to try to fix it myself, but I always end up staring at it like a deer in headlights.” I laughed.

He set his mostly full mug on the bar, “I’ll take a look at it.”

“No, it’s fine. I wasn’t trying to guilt trip you into looking at it. Ignore me, I tend to ramble sometimes.”

“I don’t mind, I like fixing things.” He shrugged, a hint of a smirk gracing his lips almost faster than I could see, and I suddenly realized what his earlier look had meant.

My mouth felt uncomfortably dry as I asked, “The landlord didn’t stop by, did he?”

He didn’t answer, stepping around the bar and into the kitchen, stopping right in front of me. “Madison.”

I craned my neck back, “Garrett.”

“Let me take a look.”





Chapter Eleven





“Pull it farther over on your side.”

“I can’t, it’ll hang to the floor and block the doorway.”

“Well, it’s not going to stay up back here, the chair is too tall. The blanket will slip, the entire thing will crash on top of us, and one of us will choke on popcorn and die. What’s more important, a doorway or living?”

Standing on the arm of the couch, I stared at Layla incredulously. “We are not going to choke and die from a blanket falling on top of us.”

“Says you. This is thick, Grade A quilting. If it whacks you in the face during a scary scene, and you suck a kernel straight down your throat, I’m not performing the Heimlich on you.”

I could make out Jamie’s muffled giggles from underneath our makeshift tent. “Fine, you wretched woman.” I yanked on the blanket, evening it out across the couch and dining chair as best I could before hopping down. Adjusting the hoodie I’d come to wear every evening down over my leggings, I placed my hands on my hips and admired our creation.

Honestly, I was pretty damn proud of us. We didn’t own many blankets and our couch was as puny as it got—Garrett’s knees had practically touched his chest the night he’d played games with Jamie—but the fort was large enough for the three of us to crowd into. Whether it’d stay up after we let the dogs out of Layla’s room was another story.

“You better not be eating all the popcorn, dude face.” I leaned down, poking my head under the edge of the quilt, and searched for his face in the dark.

“I make no promises.”

Laughing, I raised up, walking over to our DVD player to start the movie. Most people would’ve thought our lack of a TV stand was trashy but having a television directly on the floor was incredibly convenient for movie parties.

Layla was spending the night at her boyfriend’s place, but when Jamie had asked her to build a tent and watch a movie with us, she hadn’t batted an eye. She’d called Rick and let him know she’d be late. I smiled at her, feeling lucky as hell to have her as a role model for my kid.

Cracking open the sodas I’d treated us to, we snuggled up on the floor, pillows strewn about everywhere. We shoved popcorn in our faces, likely all smearing butter across our chins, and watched a Halloween movie about a house trying to eat children. It was exactly what I needed to recover from the absolute hell this week.

It’d been three days since the debacles with Rob and Aaron, and I’d barely slept since. Work had gone fine, the supervisors on both sides of the company sitting down to make sure I was doing all right, yet I couldn’t lose the tension in my shoulders.

I kept waiting for Rob to appear somewhere to punish me. The idea was ridiculous, the reality being I’d probably never see him again, but my imagination wouldn’t listen.

And I hadn’t heard a peep from Aaron. No text, no call, no random car on the street. Nothing. I should be high off my relief, yet my stress level was the only thing that was high.

Although I’d never admit it out loud, I was struggling. I couldn’t get myself to focus on anything the way I needed to, but I also couldn’t relax. I was stuck in a vicious circle of losing, and honestly, I was a catastrophe waiting to happen.