I’ve been determined to make her my friend though, because, not to toot my own horn, but I’m friends with basically everyone in Mayweather. I can tell you most people’s birthdays, the names of their pets, and any serious allergies. The people in this town were here for me when I needed it most, willing to help a stranger take care of his small child, and I’ll always be grateful.

Addison’s renting a place right outside of Mayweather, but she works here, so she’s a part of the town.

“None of this is your fault. I won’t blame you,” I assure her. “I promise I’ll figure something out and everything will be fine.”

She looks doubtful, so I try to give her a confident smile, but I’m faking it, for sure. Fake it ‘til you make it has always kind of been my motto.

But what the heck am I going to do?

CHAPTER TWO

TRAVIS

As I scrape leftover food off a plate and into the trash, with the hum of diner patrons surrounding me, I take a moment to commiserate over the state of my life. Growing up, all I wanted to do was get out of this small, crazy-ass town. And that’s what I did. I went to college in Boston, found a job after I graduated, and got an apartment. Yet somehow, I still ended up back here, serving what feels like endless turkey clubs and stacks of pancakes and cleaning up after all these fools.

But I made this choice.

Reed’s Diner is a staple in town. My grandfather opened it and ran it until the day he died. And when I got that horrible phone call, I knew what I needed to do. My dad wasn’t going to step up and run this place, since he has his own career. Not to mention, his culinary skills begin and end with spaghetti and a jar of Ragu.

A sense of family obligation is what brought me home. But honestly, my job managing a group of customer service reps for an online retail giant was boring as hell. I don’t love having to deal with the public now, because customers can be majorly annoying sometimes, but I actually do enjoy cooking.

Most of my happiest memories took place in this diner with my grandfather teaching me how to do it. I was always closer with him than I was with my dad, and it would have killed me to let the diner go.

So here I am. I don’t really hate my life. But I gave up things to come back here—mainly the freedom to be fully myself—and some days that weighs on me.

The bell on the door jingles, making me sigh. Today is just one of those days.