Chapter 15
#SISTERLYADVICE
ADRIAN
I stood outside Sullivan Hardware, debating whether to go in.
The smart thing would’ve been to text Maddox to leave my keys in the rental so I could avoid another awkward encounter where I’d inevitably say something stupid about feelings or staying or any of the hundred other things Maddox clearly didn’t want to hear.
But avoiding him felt like admitting defeat. And if there was one thing five years of building a social media career had taught me, it was that sometimes you had to push through the awkward to get what you wanted.
I still wanted, needed, this project to be successful. I definitely still wanted to spend time with Maddox. And, obviously, I wanted my damned rental car back.
The bell jingled as I pushed inside. Maya appeared from behind a tower of snow shovels, took one look at my face, and winced.
“Oof. That bad, huh?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, attempting to project more confidence than I felt. “I just need my car keys.”
Maya studied me with the kind of knowing look that was unsettling on someone who wasn’t even eighteen. “He left two hours ago. But he took his own truck. He left your keys here and your car out back.”
I leaned against the counter, suddenly exhausted. “He owes me a date.”
Her face lit up. “Hell yeah. Finally!”
“Not like that. I made a bet with him about…” I suddenly realized it might be inappropriate to discuss thirsty comments with a minor. “Anyway, I won. He lost. So now he has to plan a romantic date for the two of us. For my social media.”
Maya’s eyes lit up. “Oh, this is perfect. He’s going to have to actually put effort into being romantic.”
“Knowing him, he’ll probably try to wiggle out of it,” I muttered.
“Oh no, he won’t.” Maya’s expression turned calculating. “Maddox takes bets seriously. Always has. The question is…” She drummed her fingers on the counter. “What would actually be romantic to you?”
I blinked before narrowing my eyes. “If you’re thinking about planning this for him, think again. It’s not about what I think is romantic but about what he does.”
“Listen, my brother’s going to panic about this. He’ll probably overthink the hell out of it and grumble about everything else being too cheesy.” Maya leaned forward. “So what would actually make you happy? Like, forget what you think you’re supposed to want. What would feel special to you?”
Before I could answer that, actually, dinner and a movie with Maddox sounded pretty nice to me, the bell jingled, and Mrs. Hoffman bustled in, shaking snow from her coat.
“Adrian! Perfect timing. I was just wondering how you’re settling in. This weather certainly takes some getting used to, doesn’t it?”
“It’s… definitely unpredictable,” I admitted. “Takes some adjusting.”
Maya caught Mrs. Hoffman’s eye and made some kind of subtle gesture. Mrs. Hoffman’s expression sharpened with interest.
“I imagine everything about Legacy is an adjustment for someone used to city life,” Mrs. Hoffman continued, but now it felt like she was fishing for something. “What’s been the biggest surprise for you? Good or bad?”
I thought about it. “Honestly? How quiet it is. Not just the noise level, but… I don’t know how to explain it. In LA, I feel like I’m always on, even when I’m alone. Here, sometimes I catch myself just… being.”
Maya and Mrs. Hoffman exchanged a meaningful look. Whatever it was they weren’t saying, I felt like I was being managed silently, and I knew why.
I rolled my eyes. “Whatever the two of you are up to, give it a rest, okay? Maddox isn’t interested in me like that.”
Maya pursed her lips. “Maddox says he isn’t interested. But those videos say something completely different.”
Mrs. Hoffman nodded. “You two have such wonderful chemistry. And poor Maddox has been alone for far too long.”
“Like I said, he’s not interested,” I repeated, shrugging as if I wasn’t as bothered by it as I truly was. “And honestly, it’s probably smart of him. It’s not like he’d ever leave Legacy.”
“Absolutely not!” Mrs. Hoffman insisted, while at the same time Maya said, “Why not?”
I didn’t want to have this conversation. It was ridiculous. Maddox and I were… well, we were nothing. There wasn’t a true path to happiness between us, so what was the point in talking about it?
“And I’m not made for small towns,” I concluded, smiling in an attempt to lighten the conversation. “I’m made for mani-pedis, mimosa brunches, and same-day Prime shipping, which—by the way—you cannot get in Legacy, Montana. Had I known that—”
“Don’t be ridiculous!” The vehemence in Mrs. Hoffman’s voice made me jump. She stepped closer, her expression softening. “Do you hear yourself? Imagine if Maya had just described herself that way.”
I firmed my jaw. “I would have been surprised, but I might have invited her to LA.”
“Nonsense. You would have told her that people can change. That they can even compromise. You might have reminded her that there may be chapters in your life where you try new things. Maybe you think you aren’t made for small towns because you’ve never lived in a small town.
” Her face softened. “Don’t knock it till you try it. ”
“I have no need to try it,” I said, memories of my own hometown hurling themselves at me unhelpfully. It hadn’t been a small town like Legacy, but it had been small-minded and stifling.
The older woman eyed me. “Well, that’s a shame because I think you’d love it here, and I damned well know we’d love to have you.”
“She’s right,” Maya added. “You’re pretty fun. And I like that you’re different, too.”
Her words surprised me. I didn’t feel different.
I felt like every other guy trying his best to make a living on social media while in constant struggle with his body image, personal relationships, and current state of relevancy.
“Guys like me are a dime a dozen where I live,” I huffed. “I’m hardly different.”
Mrs. Hoffman pointed behind me at the wall of the hardware store, where a collection of framed photos hung in mismatched frames. One of them was of a younger Maddox Sullivan, bright-eyed and grinning with a man I assumed was his father. There was a lightness in his expression I rarely saw in him.
I remembered his nightmare, about the sheer amount of stress he was under. He was such a stubborn fucker he refused to let anyone help him.
Mrs. Hoffman noticed me staring at the photo of Maddox.
“Something about you is different to him. You’ve got his antennae up unlike anything we’ve seen in years.
Half of Legacy thinks you’re the best thing that’s happened to Maddox since…
well, since before his parents died. And you make him different, too.
Lighter. Like he remembers how to laugh. ”
It was surprising to hear her say that. He seemed so care-worn and tired to me. Sad. Lonely. Walled up and defensive. If there was any way I could make him laugh, make him feel lighter, I’d do it in a heartbeat.
If he’d let me.
Maya crossed her arms over her chest, nodding emphatically. “She’s right. You should see him when he’s editing your videos. He gets this little smile on his face, like he’s seeing something no one else can see.”
“Until he remembers he’s supposed to be miserable and shuts down again,” I murmured.
Mrs. Hoffman patted my arm sympathetically. “He’s been hurt. Badly. Not just by that awful Michael person, but by life itself. When you’ve lost as much as he has, it becomes easier to push people away than risk losing them.”
The bell jingled again, and Sadie from the Pinecone breezed in, her apron dusted with flour.
“Maya, honey, do you have any of those small screws for cabinet hinges? I have a cabinet door that has it out for me—” She stopped short when she saw me.
“Adrian! Hey! I was just telling Margie Peterson how much the breakfast crowd has been talking about you and Maddox. Ever since that video of the two of you bickering over breakfast went viral, we’ve been packed every morning with people hoping to catch a glimpse of you guys being adorable over coffee. ”
“They’re having relationship troubles,” Mrs. Hoffman informed her in a stage whisper.
“We’re not in a—” I tried before Sadie cut me off.
“Oh no. What happened? Did someone say something stupid? Please tell me it wasn’t Ned Harwick. That man has the social skills of a rusty nail.”
“It was Maddox,” Maya said bluntly. “Being an emotionally inaccessible disaster as usual.”
“Typical.” Sadie shook her head. “I swear, sometimes I want to shake him. Here he’s got this gorgeous, successful man who’s clearly crazy about him, and he’s probably sabotaging it because he’s scared.”
I felt heat rise in my cheeks. “Who said I was crazy about him?”
All three women turned to stare at me with varying degrees of disbelief.
“Hey, I know!” I said with a giant fake smile. “Let’s change the subject! Sadie, what’s your favorite part about living in a small town? Mrs. Hoffman was trying to tell me it’s possible to survive without delivery sushi, but I’m not sure I believe her.”
Thankfully, they allowed me to shift the topic, each sharing their thoughts on sushi and delivery food in general.
“If we had delivery sushi, though,” Sadie continued, “I might not have had a chance to try Hazel Marian’s ginger and almond salad, which I’m now obsessed with. She and her wife made it for me one night after a long day at work. To die for.”
Maya nodded eagerly. “Have you had Avery’s chicken scallopini? She made it for Maddox for his birthday, and I craved it for like three months. No matter how many times I’ve tried to recreate it, it’s never as good as when she makes it.”
They exchanged a few more stories of home-cooked meals before Mrs. Hoffman asked me what my favorite was.
“No one cooks for me, so I’m not sure,” I said, only realizing how pathetic that sounded after the words left my mouth.
Mrs. Hoffman’s smile dropped a little. “What about meals your mom made when you were growing up? Or your dad?”