Page 15 of Baby, It’s You (Clairesville #1)

Hunter

I walk up to the apartment with the number that Dennis gave me and knock on the door. It swings open almost immediately and a petite, muscular girl stands in the doorway, looking extremely confused.

“Who are you?” she asks me, her arms crossing skeptically.

I clear my throat and stammer, “I’m Dennis’s cousin. He asked me to come grab his stuff from you. I’m letting him crash on my couch, temporarily…so here I am…to get it.” I rub at the back of my neck, feeling extremely awkward.

She smacks her hands down at her sides and lets out a huff of breath.

“This is actually insane. How does my boyfriend— ex- boyfriend,” she corrects herself, “of four years have a cousin that lives in the same town, and I had no idea?” She points her finger at me accusingly.

“That piece of shit never told me anything. He probably lived a double life the whole time.”

Not knowing how to respond, but feeling responsible for his bad actions, I say, “I’m sorry.

I haven’t talked to him in years, seriously.

” I continue, feeling like I need to explain myself, “I’m only letting him stay a few days.

I would just feel bad leaving him homeless when I have an extra room at my place. ” I shrug slightly.

“Let him be homeless. Play stupid games, win stupid prizes,” she deadpans. “Anyway, I’m Ivy.”

“Hun—” I reach forward and shake her hand, but she cuts me off before I can even finish saying my name.

“You’re super-hot. No wonder why Dennis never mentioned you.” She shakes my hand back.

I instantly flush. I always feel uncomfortable when I get complimented. Clearing my throat I respond, “Thank you,” and break eye contact. I just want to grab his stuff before it starts raining and I'm mentally counting down the seconds till this awkward exchange ends.

“I have the best idea,” she says, leaning forward. “How about we go to my room and get a little revenge on Dennis, eh?” She winks at me suggestively. Now I know I’m redder than a tomato. I just stand there in shock.

After a few seconds that feel like an eternity, Ivy starts laughing hysterically. She smacks me on the chest, playfully. “I’m kidding, relax! I would literally never hook up with someone related to Dennis. I’m not asking for bad karma in life.”

“Oh, okay.” I force a small chuckle in return, relieved that she was just messing with me.

She gives me quizzical look. “I do have a super-hot best friend, though. I should introduce you.” Then she taps her finger to her lips in thought.

I shift my weight from one foot to the other. “That’s kind but no, thank you. I’m not really dating right now.”

“Bummer.”

Trying to move this exchange along, I give her a small smile and say, “If I could just grab his stuff quickly, that would be great. I don't want to get caught in the rain with all of the boxes.”

“Yeah, of course! Let me get out of the way. Everything is in the corner next to the couch.” She motions behind her.

“Awesome, thanks,” I tell her.

“He should be the one thanking you,” she murmurs.

“If I had to stare at his stuff for one more day, I was going to list everything on Facebook Marketplace so I could get some money out of the breakup.” She begins laughing once more and I’m not sure if she's being serious or kidding about selling the stuff. I wouldn’t blame her, though.

Ivy steps aside to let me into the apartment and I walk to the corner that is jampacked with overflowing boxes of clothes and random items. There are two boxes that say “porn” in huge marker letters. I turn and look at her.

“Sorry,” she says, “I thought one of his loser poker player friends would be coming to grab the stuff, so I wanted to mess with them.”

“Gotcha.” I scratch my neck. “No problem.”

She continues, “I’m going to my room to shower. Just shut the front door for me when you're done.”

“Will do,” I say as she goes to her room and closes the door.

Avenged Sevenfold begins blasting a few seconds later.

I bet the upstairs neighbor loves her , I sarcastically think to myself.

She’s a little kooky, just leaving a man she doesn’t know alone in her living room.

I mean, I’m a decent guy, so she has nothing to worry about, but does she do this with everyone?

Is this how she ended up with someone like Dennis in the first place? She trusts easily, I’m assuming.

I lift the two boxes labeled “porn” and turn the writing so they face my stomach. Then I rush them to the back seat of my truck. I jog back to get the next few boxes, trying to beat the storm.

Fifteen minutes later, I finish loading everything, my back seat stuffed with boxes.

I wipe my sweaty forehead with my white tee and then reach down to grab my phone out of my pocket.

I don't feel it and I realize it must have fallen out while I was moving Dennis’s stuff.

I quickly walk back to the sidewalk and look up and down.

I notice it right next to the curb by the street and feel relieved the screen isn't cracked since I must have dropped it while moving the boxes.

As I reach down and pick it up, I hear someone cry out.

Shoving my phone in my pocket, I turn around.

I see woman about thirty feet down the sidewalk with a giant laundry basket that’s fallen over, clothes blowing down the street from a strong gust of wind.

I run over to help her and hear her sob as I get closer.

She has her back to me, and I grab a shirt and towel that are on the ground near my leg.

“Excuse me, miss. These are yours, I think,” I tell her and walk closer.

At that moment, she turns around and mumbles, “Thanks,” while reaching out her hand. I sharply intake a breath when we make eye contact. I feel like lightning has just struck me.

It’s Olive.