“We already talked about this. No dating or hooking up. We’re roommates, remember?” I remind him of our earlier conversation.

“We could be roommates that fuck. I’m sure we wouldn’t be the first.” He cracks a smile and I still struggle to master when he’s joking, or serious.

“I think we’ll make really good friends,” I counter and he falls back into his chair, completely exasperated from my consistent decline of his seduction tactics.

“Friend-zoned. That’s the kiss of death for every guy.” Then he props his elbows on the table. “But I’ll take what I can get.”

We sit at the table and I watch the small kids whine to their parents while Rob’s eyes float across the ice cream shop. I pinpoint the exact moment I lose his attention. A blonde saunters in, with her skirt so short her ass cheeks are hanging out. She flips her hair like some eighties shampoo commercial and catches Rob’s eyes glued on her. His focus makes her swing her ass more than before and I swear she purposely drops her keys on the ground just so she can bend over.

“Well she doesn’t desire attention does she?” I glance down at my pajama pants and flip flops, suddenly self-conscious about my attire.

He glances my way. “Oh don’t worry, you naturally catch a guy’s attention, friend.” A part of me wishes he’s staring at the girl because he wants me to be jealous, but I’m not convinced that’s the reason for his unwavering eyes on her. “You don’t mind if I go over there, do you?” he asks, and even though I want to dump my ice cream sundae over his head, I smile.

“Not at all.” He deserts his milkshake on the table as he swaggers over to the blonde currently in front of the refrigerator case perusing the milk and ice cream.

Pulling out my phone to act as though I couldn’t care less that Rob is probably asking little Miss Bimbo on a date, I’m unable to stop myself from glancing their way. She paws at his biceps, her fingers grazing along his tattoos. His black T-shirt fits tight along his shoulders, displaying the lean muscles I’ve been admiring. He tucks his hands in his pockets as he leans against the case. My reaction to the whole unfolding scene in front of me isn’t anger, but definitely not indifference either.

When he grabs his phone out of his pocket, typing something, she giggles and flips her hair again before his foot pushes off the refrigeration case. Like it’s his signature move, he inches closer, whispering in her ear, making her lean into him. You have to be fucking kidding me. Rob’s hands never brush her, but she captured his sole attention during the whole exchange. For some odd reason it hurt that he never even glanced my way.

He steps away from her and I quickly divert my focus to my phone, as though I didn’t just witness him getting a girl’s phone number. “You ready?” he asks, picking up his milkshake and taking a sip.

My sundae is now more of a soup and I muster up a dumb face. “Oh, you’re ready?” I stand up and throw away my ice cream. “Sure, I have to study anyway.” Without turning back around, I exit out the door and straight to his car.

He follows me to the passenger side but I twist around. “That’s okay, I’ve got it. Thank you.” He purses his lips and then back steps away.

“Alright then.” He elongates the ‘n’ and retreats back to his side of the car.

After he climbs in the car, the music starts blaring and I pretend to enjoy it when I’m really just happy for the reprieve. I have no reason to be mad; Rob never pretended to be someone he wasn’t. I told him I didn’t want to date him, or sleep with him. Did I really expect him to not date while I live in the room next door? No, but maybe I just hoped he could refrain in my presence. Unrealistic I remind myself, a leopard doesn’t change his spots and I’ve witnessed my dad pick up random woman my whole life. It goes with the persona.

MY HANDS WRAP tight around the steering wheel and I stretch my stiff muscles from being confined in my Mustang. I love my car and even more with the additions I’ve added, but my legs ache to get free. If I’m honest, it’s not just the two-hour ride to have lunch with my mom; my insides are churning with the picture of crossing over that town line. That Welcome to Mill River sign with the shot of downtown splashed across it that makes everyone think it’s a warm and cozy town can just hold off forever in my opinion. My mom’s the only reason I come back. Ever since she reached out to me while I was on tour with Krypto, I’ve matched her effort in healing our relationship.

She wanted to cook for me, like she always does, but I was not about to pile more on her; I told her we’d meet at a restaurant. When she threw out Market Place, canceling was on the tip of my tongue, but I didn’t. So, here I sit in the parking lot, staring at the red checkered logo, trying to gain the nerve to walk in there. To not allow the memories of us together in the booth in the corner. The first time I held her hand, the first time I kissed her, and the first time I told her I loved her. It all happened in that round circular booth by the window. After the accident, I never returned. When a sharp pain nails my chest, I question why I agreed to this. I should have told my mom I’m not ready for this huge step. My counselor thinks it’s time though, so I agreed.

A loud tap beats on my window and I startle in my seat. Fear strikes inside of me immediately and I’m about to rush out of my car, ready to defend myself. Then I catch my mom’s smiling face staring in.

“Come on,” she mouths through the window. My nerves diminish slightly with her here. She was my bodyguard after the accident, constantly defending me.

I’m not even completely out of the car before her arms squeeze tight around me. As lame as it is, her arms still bring a sense of safety to me. “I’ve missed you,” she utters in my ear.

“I’ve missed you, too.” It’s been over a year since she wore the genuine smile that lights up her face and witnessing her happy makes me content.

“Come on, you need food. Are you eating up there?” She pinches my stomach and I sidestep her.

“I feed myself plenty, believe me.” She studies me for a second and conflict pierces in her matching blue eyes.

“Staying away from temptations?”

I shake my head, wrapping my arm around her shoulders and swaying her thin body into me. “You can’t wait until we get into the restaurant first? Maybe some food in my stomach?” Her own arms tighten around me, bringing guilt because she’s as worried as I was last year. My drinking habit spiraled out of control during the Krypto tour, and I almost got wheeled out on a gurney. Hell, I was one bottle away from a body bag. “Sorry, just a little frustrated lately.” If I was honest with my mom, I’d tell her about Paige and how I’m twisted in knots, how I don’t know which way is up. How much I want to trust Paige, but my fears strangle me.

“Let’s get you a burger and then maybe you’ll trust your mom a little and let her in.” I nod, gripping her shoulder tighter. Witnessing her transformation in the past year implies to me, it’s possible. Maybe one day I’ll reach half of where she’s soared.

When we step inside Market Place, the smell of cinnamon rolls constricts in my throat. Carly never left here without one in her stomach. I joked with her that one day she’d be fat from how many she ate. Grief grips my stomach, recalling back her classic phrase.

“One day, Robbie, you’ll miss it.” I gripped her tighter, telling her she’s not going anywhere. I can picture her hazel eyes staring up at mine pouring with love. “No, but if something ever happens to me, you’ll miss my love for cinnamon rolls. You’ll miss my legs wrapped around you on your bike. You’ll miss me sneaking sips of your pop.”