Page 6

My brain understands what my mother told me. That this is Joshua.

I just can’t reconcile the two Joshuas in my mind. The Joshua who once asked me if girls farted. And the broad-shouldered man next door I’ve been gawking at since I first saw him.

I squeeze my eyes shut, hoping when I open them, I’ll feel better about this. But when I do, nothing changes. Joshua is still there. And, unfortunately, he’s still hot.

Really fucking hot.

“Are you okay, Wynter?” Mom asks, and I jerk my attention away from Joshua.

“Of course,” I answer quickly.

A bit too quickly, maybe.

“Are you sure?” she presses, giving me a knowing look.

“Of course,” I repeat, grabbing another plate and scrubbing it free of sauce and cheese. “I’m just…surprised is all. Joshua is…” I trail off, searching for the right word.

Older.

Grown.

Built.

Sexy.

But I don’t say any of those.

“Different,” I finally finish.

“What did you expect? He’s twenty-five now. Not ten.”

Twenty-five. Not ten.

It should make me feel better about checking him out. Except I’ve been checking out the kid I once babysat.

I turn back to the window, forcing myself to look anywhere but at Joshua. Instead, I focus on my dog, always a welcome distraction.

But I can’t find Gary anywhere.

No black-and-white blur.

No wagging tail.

Just an empty yard.

“Where’s Gary?” I murmur, turning off the water and pushing away from the sink.

“He’s not out there?” my mother calls after me.

“I don’t see him.”

I fling open the back door and step onto the deck, cold air biting my cheeks. I race down the steps and toward the side of the house. Thankfully, the gate is closed, but there’s no sign of my dog.

“Gary!” I call out, my pulse kicking up as I run through the backyard, scanning every corner. “Where are you, pal?”

I hurry back to the deck, crouching to see if he weaseled underneath to explore and got stuck.

Again, nothing.