“James is solid. I’ve known him for ages … He’s best friends with my stepdad, Brian, but he’s also become my friend over the last few years, too. He’s very cool about my issues with the church and never makes me feel like a dick for being angry. As you can probably tell, because literally everyone can, he’s been in love with Dani for years. Years. Unrequited, but not in a slimy way. More like the ‘I’ll fix your leaky faucet and keep your business afloat and love you from afar’ kind of way.”

Meg snickers softly and leans in, and I try not to get too distracted by how mouthwatering she smells. “Can I tell you something? I don’t think it’s unrequited anymore. I’ve been watching Dani, and I get the impression that she’s crushing hard on my uncle. Did you see her face when I mentioned his handsome, bearded self?”

I sit back. “Actually. I did. You think?”

“I do. One hundred percent. So … you don’t think I’m making an unsafe or impulsive choice by moving in with a grown man who is practically a stranger?”

“Well, when you put it like that, it does sound a little shady. But no. I don’t. He’s not a stranger; he’s your dad’s brother. And maybe you never met your dad, but I promise I would never suggest you move in with the guy if I didn’t trust him with my life. I’d let my younger sisters move in with him, if that helps.”

Meg unleashes her smile full force, and I rise to my feet and pull my jacket off the back of my chair before I decide to do something embarrassing like forge her a promise ring out of staples and tack nails.

“See you tomorrow?” she asks.

“Tomorrow. If you happen to have any muffins left…”

“I’ll put one aside for the wrestler?”

I sling my backpack over my shoulders. “Nice try.”

She nods. “Right. Of course. I’ll be saving the last one for the personal trainer.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“And you are blushing. Get out of here, Micah.” Meg circles back around the counter right as a second customer walks in.

And I leave before I can be talked into staying all afternoon.

I’m on a run with Cash when everything goes to hell later that night. I’ve just managed my way to the top of the massively steep hill on Ridge Street, and my phone rings, interrupting my playlist. I tap my screen, assuming it’s my mom wondering if I’ll be eating with them, when I see a number I don’t recognize. I’m out of breath, so I let it go, but it starts up again almost immediately. By the third time through, I answer.

“This is Micah.”