Page 95 of The Boss I Can't Stand

To love.

Finn was a habit I was having a hard time breaking.

With Trey—and all the guys that came before—things had been simpler. We hadn’t been living together, and in many ways, it was easy to just pick up and carry on. But with Finn…I noticed his absence everywhere. I even missed Lord Meowington—that wrinkly little grump and his weird little striped sweaters.

“Here,” Ro said, handing me a pair of shoes branded with the Bowlarama logo as we headed down to our lane. “The reviews online were mediocre, but this place is actually kinda cute.”

It looked like it had been refurbished recently, the grime of a formerly rundown bowling alley hidden behind a swanky new bar and a variety of pool tables and arcade games. “I’m just glad you didn’t make me go back to the Gutter Ball.”

“I wouldn’t have done that to you,” Ro said, nudging my shoulder as we sat down at our lane, plugged our names into the screen, and started the game.

I managed a thin smile, glad that after all these years, she knew me well enough to know I’d never have enjoyed myself in the same place we’d had the wrap party—back when I’d actually been happy.

“I need a drink,” Ro said as her ball narrowly missed the pin she needed for a spare.

“Not sure that’s going to help your accuracy,” I teased.

“C’mon.” Ro pulled me over toward the bar where we indulged in cheap beer, sweet potato fries, and deep-fried pickles while Ro kept making eyes at the cute shoe attendant who’d helped us earlier.

“Knock it off,” I said, “or he’s going to come over here.”

“That’s the idea,” she said, smirking. “And if he does, you’re totally asking him if he has a brother.”

I sighed. I knew she was doing everything she could to cheer me up, but the truth was I wasn’t really having fun. Maybe it was too soon for bowling. Too soon for things that reminded me of Finn.

But then, whatdidn’tremind me of Finn?

“I know this is tough,” Ro said.

I blinked at her, drifting back to the conversation.

“But if you’re going to start putting yourself out there again, you have to keep showing up.”

Whether I was having a good time or not went unsaid. I sipped my beer and nodded. “I know. Thanks for putting up with me.”

“It’s you and me until the end, you know this. If you and Finn hadlasted, you would have found me moving myself into your swanky guest house one day.”

I chuckled. “You could have roomed with Lord Meowington.”

“I would have been fine with that. That cat probably has more square footage than I ever will.”

“He also has a sizable wardrobe.”

“Shut up!”

I laughed at that. “Yep. Very aughts yacht chic.”

I hummed softly, eager for the day when we could joke about Finn and his grumpy cat without it hurting.

“How’s the job going?” Ro asked, clearly trying to distract me.

I’d picked up a gig on a limited series thanks to a recommendation from X. I shrugged in response. “It’s fine, I guess. But you know me. A murder mystery isn’t really my thing.” There wasn’t a whole lot of imagination that went into coordinating those types of costumes. The hardest part of this job was sourcing the nineties-appropriate pieces.

“Any thoughts on after?” Ro wondered.

“Not yet.” I grabbed a fry. “I’ve got another Sultry Stitches order, so that’ll keep me busy. But I should probably start putting my feelers out for another long-term project. What about you?”

“Just remind me not to pick up another job on a horror flick,” she said, fighting off a shiver. “Ugh. I need to win the lottery so I can just keep directing my own indie projects.”