Fisher: I’ll call my family and tell them it was a lie. That I just wanted to be alone with you.

I rolled my eyes at the last text. He wasn’t going to tell his Angie-loving family that he wanted to be alone with me.

My phone rang. I didn’t want to answer it, knowing it was him. But when I spared a quick glance at the screen, I realized it wasn’t him. It was Christina, my only friend from public school who kept in touch with me.

“Heyyy!”

“Hey, Reese! What’s up with you? It’s been forever.”

“I know. It has. Where are you? Last I heard you’d moved to South Carolina.”

“We did, but my sister’s getting married in a week, so I’m staying with her to help her survive the chaos.”

“Amelia’s getting married? Wow!”

“Yes. And she’s getting married in Colorado Springs. And I heard you’re in Denver. I’m in Denver for the weekend. We have to get together.”

“Yeah, I’d love that. I have no plans … well …” I thought about Arnie’s concert.

“If you’re going to say you have plans with a guy, that’s cool. My boyfriend’s with me. We should all go out.”

“It’s … um … actually, I was invited to a concert tomorrow night. Local band. I know the lead singer. His brother is my landlord and my boss.”

“Oh … that sounds perfect. Where? When?”

“I’m not sure yet. Can I text you the info in the morning?”

“Absolutely. Gah! I can’t wait to see you!”

“Me too. I’m so glad you called. We’ll talk in the morning.”

“Sounds great. Bye.”

I pressed End and groaned because I didn’t have Arnie’s number. I didn’t know the time or location of the concert. After a quick internet search for “Arnie Mann band in Denver,” I found everything I needed and quickly texted Christina before going to bed early and praying the naked fisherman stayed out of my dreams.

The next morning, I dressed and headed out for a walk. Fisher’s truck was gone. It didn’t surprise me. Hailey told me it wasn’t unusual for him to work on Saturdays.

After my walk and breakfast, I grabbed my crossword puzzle sketch pad and sat on the screened-in porch. After an hour or so, the roar of an approaching lawnmower grew louder. I looked up to shirtless Fisher mowing the lawn. He didn’t see me at first. And I liked that. Even if I wasn’t sure I liked him anymore, I liked things about him.

His body.

The concentrated look on his scruffy face when he was focused on a task, especially if it involved tools.

In the middle of me contemplating the things I did like about him, Fisher glanced up and our gazes met. He paused for a moment then continued mowing.

Weed eating.