“Go ahead and ask your question,” I say, holding back a smile.

“That guy who came to class. The lawyer. What’s up with him?”

She doesn’t have enough time for this story. Besides, I wouldn’t share too much about Dean anyway. “His name’s Dean, and he’s just a friend.”

It’s the best answer I can give her, but it doesn’t sound right to my ears. I suppose I’m still getting used to the idea of putting our relationship in that specific box.

I’ll get there, though. Slowly. Surely. Eventually.

“That’s a shame,” Layla says.

My eyes go wide. “Watch it, Ms. Young.”

She giggles and holds up her hands. “He’s a cutie. I’m just sayin’.”

He’s so much more than that, but yeah, she has a point. Thinking about Dean isn’t part of my getting-unstuck plan, though. “When would you like to get started on tutoring?”

“I’m ready when you are,” she says. “How about this weekend?”

“Ooh, sorry. I’m heading to Vegas to celebrate my roommate’s birthday.”

Layla drops her shoulders, then tilts her head as she gazes at me dubiously. “Are you going to be a shady mentor?”

“What?” I say, grinning. “No. I just have plans, that’s all. I’ll be at your disposal any other weekend.”

She gives me a toothy grin. “I’m just kidding. I know you won’t let me down.”

She’s right. I won’t.

It feels good not to be floundering anymore.

Chapter Thirty

Dean

I wake up to someone sprinkling water on my face and jump up from the couch as though an intruder’s on the scene. I’m ready to rush the person—until I realize it’s Max.

“You’re so damn slow,” he says, chuckling.

“And you’re a creepy stalker,” I say as I massage my chest and take stock of my surroundings. The sun’s setting, and my place looks like trash. “How the hell did you get in here?”

“Mr. Donatelli in three oh seven let me in downstairs. He’s seen us together enough times to know where I was headed.”

“That doesn’t explain how you entered my unit.”

He stalks my way and glowers at me. “Your damn door was open. So what the hell’s going on?”

I step back and give him an honest answer. “I don’t even know.”

It’s been a few days since I officially became unemployed. A few days of not knowing how to get my life plan back on track. A few days of mostly wishing Solange were here. Thankfully, my mother’s settling into her new apartment in Delaware.

As I watch Max rifle through my fridge, I realize he’s wearing athletic gear, which means I must have missed our standing basketball meetup. “Shit. I’m sorry I didn’t show.”