Southern Storms (Compass 1)

“Yes,” I agreed, referring to Lars and the way he’d treated me the previous day. “I’m just sorry I lost your landscaper.”

“Whatever. It’s not a big deal. I’m sure someone else will come along. What matters most is that you’re okay. Do you need me to come home? I can come home. I can come home if you need me.”

“I am one hundred percent sure you’re not needed back in town.” I laughed.

“Really? Because Bora Bora is a complete bore. All we do is sunbathe and drink fruity drinks.”

“Gosh, what a hard, hard life.”

“You’re telling me. Plus there’s this guy who’s been following me around telling me he loves me nonstop and catering to my every want and need.”

I cocked an eyebrow as if she could see me. “You mean…your husband?”

“Husband.” She sighed, shaking her head back and forth. “What a freaking weird word. I have a husband.” She giggled, sounding smitten as ever.

“You sure do. You got a good one. Be thankful for that…there’s a lot of terrible fish in the sea.”

“Speaking of terrible fish…have you heard from your squid?”

My chest tightened, and I pulled my hair into a messy bun. “I haven’t.”

“Well, that’s good, right? Not hearing from him is a good thing.”

Maybe. Still, a part of me felt odd about not hearing from him at all. I tried my best not to think about it. The more I thought about it, the more I thought about my past, and that was hard for me. I wasn’t good at dealing with my past. It was too hard for me to face.

“Yeah, it’s good. Side note,” I said, shifting the conversation, “if you are interested in knowing, my neighbors are the most nosy people in the world.”

“Oh gosh, that’s great to know. I bet they are having a field day with you.”

“The biggest of field days. I’m kind of surprised a fruit pie or loaf of bread hasn’t shown up today.”

“It’s still early—I’m sure it’s on its way,” she joked. “What else is the town like? Is it the Southern Stars Hollow of our dreams?” Yoana asked, her voice filled with hope. “Are there bake sales and town parades because it’s Tuesday? Is there a Luke’s Diner? Oh my gosh, please tell me there’s a Luke’s Diner.”

I laughed. “I still haven’t walked around the town, actually, but you do have the cutest quirky neighbor. Oh, and fair warning—the town asshole owns the woods behind your property. I wouldn’t wander them if I were you. He’s the opposite of a people person.”

“Ohhh, interesting. Is he a Luke type of antisocial or a Jess antisocial?”

If there was anything Yoana and I were professionals at, it was talking in Gilmore Girls references.

“Jess. Totally a Jess.”

“Is he hot? Oh gosh, please tell me he’s hot.”

Oh, was Mr. Personality a fine specimen of an asshole. If grumpy smolders could kill, I would’ve been dead ten times over by now. It was as if someone took Damon from The Vampire Diaries, tossed in a little Hook from Once Upon A Time, and voila! Mr. Personality was born. If brooding was an Olympic sport, he’d take gold.

“That’s not the point,” I said, trying my hardest to shake off his obvious sex appeal because I was still on a mission to hate him—even if he did hang out with the elderly in his free time and save me from people like Lars. That didn’t cancel out his shortness with me or his moody personality.

“It is the point, Kennedy. It’s okay to find the town asshole sexy.”

And I did. It was just that Yoana didn’t need to know that fact—nor did anyone else—because it had no relevance to anything. Was Mr. Personality drop-dead gorgeous with locks of dark brown hair that fell in front of his face in the sexiest of ways? Yes. Had his deep eyes of mystery entranced me for a moment in time? Sure, yeah, whatever. Time stood still, blah blah, blah. That didn’t change the fact that he was lacking people skills. No amount of full lips or chiseled jawlines could change that fact.

His good looks and mysterious nature simply made looking away a bit more difficult.

“If you keep talking, I’m going to hang up the phone,” I joked, standing to walk into the bathroom.

“Fine, fine, but what do you mean you haven’t been into town yet? Don’t tell me you’ve been antisocial. You have to get out! Explore. Meet new people.”

“Trust me, I don’t have to meet new people. They have a way of coming straight to my front porch.”

“You need to get out, Kennedy. It will be good for you.”

“But your house is so big and comfy,” I playfully teased, trying to shift the direction the conversation was going. I could tell by Yoana’s sigh that she was worried. I knew it was because she was concerned about my mental health, which had been suffering majorly throughout the past few months. She wanted me to be okay, which I understood completely. I wanted that, too. These things just took time. I had to heal on my own terms—even when the rest of the world wanted me to get over it sooner than later.