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Me:Well, I owe you something now that you’re going to join the dating chaos. What do you want?

The three dots start and stop so many times that I’ve lost count.

Kenzie:If you like what I do when I organize your house, tell people. A growing business will help me forget the fact that I’m actually dating.

I sit there and marvel. It's rare for people to pass up money or expensive gifts, especially from a professional athlete like me. That just adds to the positive column for Kenzie.

Me:Okay, but what else? There’s got to be something I can do.

I finish my drink and put it in the dishwasher. My mother comes into the kitchen and says, “Are you leaving already?”

With a nod, I say, “Yeah, I’ve got a long day tomorrow.”

“Take this box of leftovers. You know your sisters won’t eat them and I’d hate for them to go bad.”

I lean over and give her a kiss on the cheek. “Thanks, Mom. Okay, tell the family bye for me.”

My mom waits at the door as I walk down to my car. “Let me know if your dating plans change. I’ve got a list of young women you’d be perfect for.”

Shaking my head, I get into the car and breathe. It’s hard for a mother to see past the bias of her child, especially in seeing compatible traits in the opposite sex.

Kenzie:We’ve already agreed that if it doesn’t work out with the others, we’ll go on a fun date. That’s enough…

Me:Dates are usually fun.

Kenzie:Not in my experience.

Me:Then both sides have been doing it wrong. I’ll plan on it.

As I drive home, I wonder what a “fun” date would consist of for Kenzie. I’d need a lot more to go on if I’m going to be breaking any of her preconceived notions.

But we’ll have to get through the dates we’re matched with first.

18

KENZIE

Working for Trey is already hard and I’m only on day two. Well, technically day one, since the last time consisted of a twenty-minute tour.

The guy looks so dang good every time he appears, whether it's with a sweaty t-shirt or a good-looking polo shirt. And here I am in my joggers and t-shirt, hoping to make some good progress on this job without ruining any of my good clothes. The sooner I finish, the faster I can move on without getting attached.

The start date for Trey’s house wasn’t supposed to be until later in the week, but the dumpster at my dad’s won’t be emptied until tomorrow and my brother’s truck is in the shop. I’d rather not move the bags a second time, even if I get an arm workout in. A huge part of the hoard cleaning is mental gymnastics and I figured I could see a bigger difference today while working at Trey’s.

It doesn’t hurt that our texting session from the day before made me laugh several times.So that could be part of the reason I’m here.

I start with cleaning out all the cabinets in the kitchen. I’m not the tallest girl in the world and have to use one of the bar stools to see the top shelves. Once that’s done, I pull over the few boxes against the wall near the kitchen table.

The first is full of clothing. Wrong place to be storing these, Trey.

The next one has a few plates and several plastic cups. I place those on the bottom shelf of the cupboard next to the sink. The plates go on the lowest shelf by the stove. The most logical places to need the dinnerware in a pinch.

The two forks in his one drawer are part of a four-piece set I find in a smaller box, along with a few canned goods.

“How long has he lived here?” I say out loud when I’ve put all the boxes away. It looks more like Mother Hubbard lives here than a professional athlete.

“Four and a half weeks,” a voice says, and I whirl around to see Trey grinning at me from the doorway. At least he’s fully clothed right now. “You don’t like my selection of food?”

I open the fridge and see only protein drinks and a small bag of carrots. “I’m thinking you’re either not much of a cook or you’re Bugs Bunny.”