Chapter 7
KYLIE
Lily and I agreed to meet at her apartment. We scheduled it for the end of work. The more I thought about it, the more I hoped it would also be my apartment soon.
When I told my parents, they barely hid their disappointment. I swore they would be happy if we all moved home and lived there forever. Shit, they’d buy a family compound if they could afford one.
Me to Sister Chat: Someone better move back home.
Kendra: Not it.
Kelsey: Ugh, I hope I don’t need to move back in.
Me: Girl, they won’t charge rent.
Kelsey: I want my independence.
Ugh. Kelsey would purposely choose the most difficult path to avoid taking an ounce of help from anyone else.
I followed the address to a gorgeous brownstone in Back Bay. Damn, Lily. No wonder you need a roommate now that Daddy isn’t paying the bill.
And then I hated myself for those thoughts. Despite receiving everything she’d ever needed from her parents, Lily always gave one hundred percent. Even though the apartment cost was at the top of my budget, I knew Lily was heavily subsidizing it, so I could afford it.
Kendra: Have you seen the apartment yet?
Me: Outside it now.
I sent a photo of the outside of the brownstone as I walked up the steps and rang the bell.
Kelsey: Nice! Good luck!
Good luck is right. I spent my lunch break researching the location and even planned out my morning coffee run. I confirmed that I could walk to work if I wanted to. I was excited, and the only thing that could ruin it was if there was an issue with the room.
I rang the bell, and Lily met me at the door, face flushed.
“Sorry, I was just moving the last of my things out of your room. I underestimated how much work it would take. Come on in.”
The apartment was on the first floor, with the kitchen and living room in an open floor plan.
The exposed brick added to the charm of the modern kitchen.
My big fear was that there wouldn’t be enough lighting in the apartment, which was one of the problems I had with where my sister lived. Small, cramped, and dark.
“Wow,” I said, and Lily smiled.
“You love it?”
“I think I do,” I said, as Lily showed me the bathroom, which not only had an old-fashioned clawfoot tub but also a frameless shower with a rain head.
When she opened the door to an empty bedroom, my heart fluttered with excitement. I had saved some money for a new bed, and the one on my Pinterest board would fit perfectly in front of the beautiful, exposed brick wall.
“And the closet is decent, not amazing, but decent for city standards,” Lily offered.
“I left almost everything I owned at Goodwill before I flew home. I don’t need much closet space. This is perfect, Lil. Are you sure you’re ready for a roommate?”
“Yeah. Besides, it will be nice to have the company,” she said. “Are we ready to celebrate yet?”
“We are! Shit, Lil, I love it.”
She pulled my hand to the kitchen, opened the cabinet next to the refrigerator, and picked out two delicate, crystal champagne flutes. She placed them on the island before reaching into the fridge for a bottle of champagne.
I took a quick peek at the brand. Yup, expensive. Lily might be what she thought of as broke, but anyone who could buy Dom Perignon on the off chance that there would be a reason to celebrate didn’t know the meaning of the word broke.
I was instantly transported back in time, when Lily and I were close friends and lived parallel lives, but had two very different experiences.
I remembered when she’d come back from Disney, excited and full of stories.
When I went with my family, I had expected to have private tours and fancy dinners, but instead, we brought a cooler with sandwiches.
While we had a great time, I shied away from sharing the differences, worried my friend would think less of me.
While we sipped champagne, Lily passed me the sublet agreement. The landlord would require me to sign it before I moved in. But everything else seemed to fall right into place.
“Ooh, I think I forgot the best part! We have laundry in the unit!”
I followed her to what looked like a closet door outside the bathroom, and she opened it to reveal the washer and dryer.
“Damn, that’s awesome.”
I had expected a basement machine, not something so convenient.
“I figured we could split the days. In college, my sorority assigned people to certain days to minimize people leaving their clothes in the washing machine until they stink. It worked out, but the best part was that it eliminated arguments.”
“I can do that,” I said.
We set the move-in date for the weekend. Between this and my date with Luc, I was anxious to get to the weekend.
Kelsey: Landed in Minnesota.
Me: How was Crew?
Kelsey: Better than expected!
Me: Okay. Be safe, have fun.
“Everything good?” Lily asked.
“Yeah, Kelsey and Crew flew out to Minnesota. She’s a guest of one of the pitchers for the Minutemen.”
“Wait, who?”
“Sam Drummond,” I said, leaving out the superstitious, good luck charm nonsense.
Lily looked down at her phone and tapped something into Google.
“Damn, Kelsey did good.”
“Well, we’re not sure what’s going on yet. But the man flew her and Crew out first class.”
Lily kept looking through the news stories, “He doesn’t throw off any red flags. I can ask Hawk what he thinks if you want?”
“Hawk?”
“Jonathan Crosby, his grandfather, is the owner of the Minutemen. He’s expected to take over the franchise when his grandfather steps aside.”
How could I be surrounded by so many people affiliated with the baseball team I grew up watching with my dad?
“It’s crazy. I know all these people live in Boston, but I forget we might run into them. But no, don’t say anything to Hawk. I wouldn’t want it to get back to Sam if he didn’t want something more with my sister. Don’t want him to think that she’s making this into a Cinderella story or anything.”
We polished off the bottle of champagne, and I called an Uber to take me back home.
It was late, but I figured I would try to catch the highlights of the Minutemen’s game, maybe even the last inning if I was lucky.
They had a late night followed by an afternoon game the next day.
The closer gave up the second home run of the game to Rodon, a hitter who had been hot going into this series, but they still managed the win.
I had turned off the television and was scrolling through my phone when I heard from Luc.
Luc: Did you catch the game?
Me: I did. Nice save for Colbert; but it’s too bad Rodon got that on him.
Luc: Good girl. I see you pay attention.
Me: I bleed for the Minutemen.
Luc: If I coached for the Bronx?
Me: New number. Who’s this?
Luc: Point taken.
Luc: I’m just happy you’re interested.
Huh. Why did that statement make me want to ask him if his wife was interested in the sport?
Whelp, Kylie, that’s what you get for internet stalking the woman.
You can’t erase the dozens of photos that popped up showing Luc staring at the woman like he wouldn’t be able to breathe if she left the goddamn room.
I’d never been jealous, but then again, the boys I had dated had never been too interesting. And that’s what they were, boys. Luc, age aside, was a man.
Me: I signed on a new apartment tonight.
Luc: Where?
Me: Back Bay, Commonwealth Ave.
I sent him the photo of the front of the brownstone.
Luc: Well, hello, neighbor.
Me: Are you nearby?
Luc: I’m in Back Bay, too. But I don’t know exactly where that is. It’s a brownstone. They’re classic and beautiful, but they all look the same.
Me: I’m going to go to bed. But thanks for checking in.
Thanks for checking in? I cringed the second I sent it.
Luc: Goodnight, beautiful girl.
Ooh, damn. Why did I like that so much?
Me: Thank you, sir.
Where the fuck did that come from? I read back through the text exchange, imagining his deep, gruff voice as he called me his good girl and called me beautiful. Damn.
Luc: You don’t know how happy you just made me.