Page 3 of The Exit Strategy

As though it’s that easy. But I nod because arguing with him right now is pointless. He’s had practice with this speech already—six months ago when I started a Wi-Fi war with Mr. Fissile next door for stealing my Internet. I named my networkMr. Fissile steals Wi-Fi and doesn’t pick up his dog’s poop.The asshole took me to court for slander and Hudson was forced to defend me.

Of all my guardian bros, Hudson’s the one who’ll use that shit against me.

“What’s happening now?” he asks.

“Grace is gaining followers,” Fen says. “Especially with the new video she posted of Junie…being Junie. Thankfully most of her comment sections are still filled with snake emojis. But I’m not going to lie—Grace is a good actress, and she’s going at this hard. She’s going to be a problem.”

So much for being my friend.

Fen continues filling Hudson in, but I zone out and watch the world roll by. No one has ever understood that I don’t get myself into these situations on purpose. I just don’t know how to be any other way.

It was easier when I didn’t have any friends. It was stupid to let Grace into my life in the first place. That’s an error in judgment I won’t make again. I should’ve just stuck to my books—fiction won’t betray you.

“What about Paul?” Hud asks. He’s watching me in the rearview.

“What about him?”

It’s at that moment that I realize I have no feelings about Paul. None. It’s like a stranger died. Sad but not painful. His betrayal stings, but I loved Grace like a sister. It’s probably why I’m so angry.

“Guess that answers how you felt about him.” Fen laughs.

The truth is, I thought I loved Paul. Now I know I didn’t.

Hud slows the car when the highway suddenly cuts down to two lanes, and we crawl from one stoplight to the next.

The groan I’ve barely contained since Boston finally breaks free.

“It’s not forever, Junie.” Hudson’s uncharacteristically gentle tone raises my hackles. “Cole needs help getting his accounting software in order, and you just need to lie low for a bit.”

“Two months, tops,” Fen agrees.

I start calculating how many minutes are in two months when I spot the welcome sign.

Welcome to Porchlight Cove—Where the lights are always on.Even Heartmark would reject that slogan for being too on the nose. But there it is, in all its cheerful yellow glory.

This is supposed to be my fresh start? Population 1,000 retirees and one very specific reason I’ve never, ever visited the Carolinas with my brother and the Berry Brigade of Merry Guardians.

Cole Whittaker.

I’ve always known where he was, which made it easy to avoid him. These assholes and our group chats keep me informed and up to date whether I want them to or not. And where Cole is concerned, I most certainly do not want.

My brother and his idiotic crew still feel responsible for me years after their duty ended.

They’re the reason I’m in this town, driving toward his life, about to take a job that will make Cole not only my first heartbreak but also my first boss straight out of my MBA program, and there’s pain attached to both those things.

My heart pinches before I can force the frost in my soul to freeze the hell over. Cole created his own little community here in Porchlight Cove when he built the homes of The Haven—a community within a community. The only comfort I get from knowing that we were so easily replaced is that Hudson let it slip that Cole built The Haven for young adults and families, but somehow ended up with a small retirement community instead.

Well, a retirement community, and now…me.

He’s only allowing it as a favor to my brother. And perhaps because they’re all a teensy bit worried that Boston has become a crime scene and my face is the chalk outlineafter Hudson had to extract me from the Brookline Bagelry yesterday because people were filming me.

Even Brookline, my little city surrounded by Boston on three sides, has turned against me.

They were probably expecting another meltdown, especially after finding out there was a freaking news crew set up outside of my house that not even the privacy wall could hide, but thankfully, I was still in shock from having my first-ever STI testing done thanks to my ex and now ex-best friend.

With less than $1,000 in my bank account and no business willing to touch me, I’m out of options.

Which is how I end up driving straight toward the one man I swore I’d never see again.