Evie: or a hot enby
June: All nonbinary people are hot
Evie: So so true. Avery, we need updates
I shook my head. It was too early in the day for this level of ridiculousness, but I was used to it.
Supposedly, the house across the street from me had been rented by a mystery man a couple days ago. No one had seen him yet, so I had no idea what he looked like or if he was even real.
I stepped out the front door and regretted it. It was summer and the heat was a sweltering, looming pressure on my body.The sun wasn’t even blazing yet, but sweat sprouted on my skin like a damn sprinkler.
My little house sat on a quiet street that was a four-block walk to the studio. Normally, I’d take that walk, but today I was opting for my ‘67 Ford truck that’d belonged to my grandfather instead.
I side eyed the house across the street as nonchalantly as I possibly could. There was no movement. No mysterious neighbor. Just a pretty sports car in the driveway that was nothing more than a pink ribbon on a pig.
Whoever my neighbor was, I knew one thing alone by seeing that car. They wereannoying.
Haven’t seen him yet . . .
June: Are we sure he’s not dead?
Evie: You should barge in and find out
Y’all have lost your damn minds, absolutely not
June: Oh come on. Stir up a little trouble for once, Avery
Evie: You deserve some fun with a hot stranger blowing through town.
June: Get your freak on. We know you are one. And it’s been too long
This is what I got for telling those two everything. They knew I was kinky, and liked to remind me of that anytime someone interesting (meaning not from here) visited Whynot.
As if I’d ever sleep with my temporary neighbor, let alone let them spank me or pull my hair. Those sort of acts with someone required trust. They requiredconnection.
I shook my head as I climbed into the truck. As messy as I was at times, I still was a rule follower through and through. It was annoying, honestly, because I wished I could be the girl that would go knock on a strange man’s door.
But nope, not me. I was a good girl who minded her business.
Mostof the time.
CHAPTER TWO
Avery
Wednesdays were adult art class days.
The class was usually full of seniors, and occasionally a wine mom or two. Sometimes, June would stop in if business was slow at her flower shop and drape herself over one of my stools while she drank coffee and complained about the heat. Other times, Evie would bring me a piece of her famous pie for breakfast. On the rare occasion, I got both of them yapping up a storm.
This morning, however, I hoped I didn’t find either of them there. I loved themso,somuch, but I was still quite literally blue, and their snickers would send me over the edge.
Plus, the mystery neighbor was still . . . a mystery.
The tires screeched as I slammed on the brakes, and the truck tilted as I pulled halfway onto the curb behind the studio. I hopped out, keys jangling, and jogged to the back door of the studio, using my full bodyweight to barge it open.
Another alarm went off in my pocket. I threw all my things on a chair against the wall and swiped to turn it off as I headed through the hallway to the front of the studio.
Whynot Paint was split into three spaces. The front was the gallery and shop with my art for sale, along with some piecesfrom other local artists, and a showcase shelf for up-and-coming students in my youth classes.
