I was still smiling a little from that weird, chaotic, unexpected run-in with Maeve. She wasn’t at all what I thought she’d be like. When we first met, she seemed like the kind of girl who’d have a five-year plan stuck to her bathroom mirror. Calm, graceful, knew exactly what to say and when to say it. But today? She was a hot mess in a hoodie, stumbling over her words, dragging a girl who looked ready to strangle her through the store like a scene from some indie comedy.
And I liked it. That realness. That mess. Made her more interesting.
I reached the car and tapped at my pockets for the keys. Nothing. Checked around the cart, under it—still nothing. My chest tightened for a second. Then it hit me. I’d set the damn keys down near the counter when checking out. Groaned under my breath,
