The Only One (Wrench Kings #3)

Prologue

. . .

no way

“Yes, yes, that’s right, take it, take it like the good boy you are ,” she says, performing the scene with the perfect amount of realness and rasp.

And on that note, I turn off my audiobook and look around my now vacant apartment, the last of my things stacked in old Banker’s Boxes by the door. It only lasted six weeks, but it was a glorious six weeks.

I walked around naked.

I listened to my filthy books without EarPods, as loudly as I wanted.

I put my feet on the coffee table with shoes on.

I didn’t put my clothes in the hamper if I didn’t want.

And as fun as those things were, once the newness wore off, I started to miss my family.

Living on my own wasn’t really everything I dreamed it would be.

In fact, when mom called and told me that Art’s back took a turn and that she needs me back, I was happy .

Not because my step-dad’s back is getting worse because I hate that for him so much.

But… coming back to a home full of voices and warmth feels good .

As it turns out, the grass isn’t always greener. Shoes on the table and audiobooks on blast weren’t better than living with love.

I flick off the light and close the door.

When I get downstairs, I find Delilah in the doorway, ringing her hands in her apron. As the owner of the deli below my apartment, Delilah once lived upstairs, too. The funny thing is, she left because she got married and Goldie, the woman who lived up there after Delilah, left to get married, too.

I hand her the key before pulling her into a hug. “Thanks so much Delilah. Maybe I’ll be back one day but my family needs me home.”

She smiles, passing me a white bag from the stainless counter. “I know. Here’s some fresh muffins to take home.” She hugs me again, and as much as I love her, I won’t miss being bombarded with the smell of baked bread at all hours.

I peer into the bag, spotting coarse sugar sprinkled onto the tops of blueberry muffins, and my stomach growls.

Delilah shoots me a wink. “Who knows, maybe you’ll be getting married soon. You know everyone who stays in that apartment moves onto bigger and better.”

Smiling, I glance back up the stairs to make sure my boxes are still there and of course, they are. “Maybe,” I reply, not letting on to the fact I had that thought just a moment ago. “Well, I gotta grab the rest of my stuff and get to work. Thank you again. ”

“Of course,” she beams, waving me off with the tail of her white apron. “Go, I’ll see you later.”

“Bye, Delilah,” I call as I stomp back up the stairs, scooping up my boxes once I’m at the top. Smiling to myself, I trudge down and outside, stacking my things in my car.

Maybe the women who stayed in that apartment went onto meeting the man of their dreams but that’s not going to happen to me.

No way.