Page 22 of Between the Lines

I shoot my best friend, Matt, a text.

Caden: Hey, is that apartment beside you still for rent?

I empty my beer and glance out at the pool in my backyard. How I’d love to just throw my phone in there.

Matt: No, man, sorry, someone moved in last week. You looking for something?

Caden: Just helping out an employee, need a short-term rental close to the shop.

She’ll need to walk, considering she has a car she doesn’t drive.

Matt: Damn . . . might be rough since it’s summer. All the good places are rented out, even my vacation rentals are booked solid til October.

He’s right.

Needing to clear my head, I drop my phone on the kitchen island, and step outside. I promptly strip down to my shorts and jump in the pool. The sun is blazing, but the water’s cool, and I float for a minute, wondering how the hell I’m going to fix this.

Then I look towards the back of the property, and my stomach does a little flip.

The new addition to my property sits untouched—a guesthouse I built for resale value. It’s clean and has a private entrance, a stone path to the driveway, and a fully stocked kitchen.

“Shit,” I groan, swimming up to the side of the pool. I run my hand through my wet locks and rest my elbows on the concrete, staring at the pristine white cottage.

She’s going to hate the idea. And she’ll have to get new tires so she can drive to work . . . but it might just be the only solution.

8

Fia

“What do you mean he invited you to live with him?” Halle’s voice echoes through the cafe.

Two students sit in the far back corner with headphones on, eyes in books. Country music blares through the speakers—thanks to Halle—yet my cheeks still burn hot as I turn away from her to wipe the espresso machine down with a damp cloth.

“Lower your voice,” I hiss, eyeing those students. Neither look up. “No one can know about this. I’m serious. You have to take this to the freaking grave.” I nearly growl.

She pretends to zip her lips, but her eyes sparkle with mischief.

I straighten, throwing the towel onto the butcher-block counter beside me. “And I never said he invited me to live with him. I said he has an empty property I can crash at, rent free, while my house is being repaired.”

Halle grabs my arm. “Start from the beginning. I’m begging you.”

She lives for the plot, and normally I don’t indulge, but she is the only person who knows that Caden is helping me, and I desperately need someone to talk to about this whole situation.

I pull her close in, half hidden behind the coffee grinder.

“Caden called me on my lunch break, and told me they found mold in the hallway ceiling—” Just saying it makes my skin crawl.

Halle’s eyes widen. “That’s incredibly dangerous, Fia! I saw a documentary about a family that got these mystery illnesses, and it turned out to be black mold and—”

I cut off Halle’s rambling with a groan.

“Halle! Not helpful.”

She zips her lips again.

“I know it’s dangerous,” I spit out, pulling on the tip of my long braid, “so clearly, I can’t live there.”

“What about Penny? She has a guest room, right?”