The Off Limits Rule (It Happened in Nashville #1) - Sarah Adams Page 0,2

it’s just not quite enough to help me get ahead of bills and debt. Brent is not a bad guy or anything, and he’s even offered to pay extra to help give me a financial cushion, but for some reason, I’d rather start wearing tennis shoes without socks and selling them to creepy people on eBay who want them extra sweaty before I take money from Brent. He’s always had too much emotional pull in my life. At one point, I might have held out hope, dreamed of us actually becoming a family one day—but not anymore. Those dreams have long since evaporated, and now, any time he texts me after midnight saying something like Why don’t we ever get together, just the two of us?, I know better than to respond.

Also, don’t ask how I know about the sweaty shoes thing.

Drew gives me a soft smile and really doesn’t have to say anything because we have that sibling telepathy thing that lets me see inside his head. He speaks anyway. “You’d do the same for me.”

“Yeah. Of course I would.” But I’d never need to because Drew has his life together all of the time.

He pulls me in for a hug and kisses the top of my head. “I’m sorry you’re bummed, but I’m glad you’re home and you and that idiot broke up.”

“He wasn’t an idiot!” And just like that, I’m annoyed and want to wiggle out of his arms, but he doesn’t let me—just holds me tighter.

“Yeah, he was. You just need some space from him to see it.”

“No, Andrew, he just wasn’t smooth and super cool like you, and that’s why you didn’t like him. But he wasn’t an idiot.”

I really don’t know why I’m defending Tim so much. I wasn’t in love with him or anything. In fact, that’s why we broke up. There was no spark, and we were basically friends who kissed (and not all that often). I’d never even introduced him to Levi because somewhere in the back of my mind I always knew our relationship wasn’t going anywhere. I’m a little ashamed to admit it, but I only dated him because he was there and available. I was new to Atlanta, having taken an open position at a new salon, and he was one of my first clients. We hit it off, started dating (if you can even call it that since we barely saw each other due to me not having any friends or family around to help babysit), and, for a few months, fell into a comfortable pattern of going out on Saturday nights when I could afford to hire the fifteen-year-old down the street. She had a more active dating life than me, though, so I had to book her weeks out and pay her a fortune.

Then, the roommate I moved to Atlanta with got engaged to her boyfriend and asked to break our lease agreement early so she could move in with him. I, being a woman deeply afraid of confrontation, agreed wholeheartedly before remembering that I didn’t trust anyone else to live with me and my son. I tried to make it work financially on my own for a while, but then the burden just got too heavy. I was two months behind on rent, and then I lost my job at the salon because I continued to cancel on too many clients. Did I mention it’s super hard to be a single parent without a nearby support system? Turns out, most bosses really don’t give a crap about your child at home with a stomach bug, unable to go into daycare that day. They really only care that you didn’t show up to work and earn them the money they were counting on.

So, I got fired, and then the next week, Tim and I broke up, and then I got the official eviction notice from my landlord. I didn’t need any time to think about what to do. I called Drew and told him to come get me, and then I cut Atlanta off like a bad split end.

Now, I feel depressed, but not because I miss Tim. I’m depressed because I don’t miss Tim and my life feels like way more of a mess than it should at age twenty-nine. It’s like I’m mourning something I hoped could happen but didn’t.

“No,” says Drew, “I didn’t like him because when I came to visit and we three went to dinner, he said he was cold