Page 32 of Small Town Sizzle

“No,” she agrees, tilting her head thoughtfully. “But not because they didn’t want to. Because you were there, and both of them know you’d kill them for making a scene.”

I roll my eyes. Neither of those men is interested in me. Or rather, I can’t have either of those men interested in me. I’m not ready for anything, even if Garrett McAllister just made my entire body heat up from that kiss.

Leti just giggles and pops another kernel into her mouth. “Fine, fine. But for real, how are you not seeing this? TJ and Garrett? Both are totally into you.”

“It doesn’t matter. I’m not dating. I’m not ready.”

Leti stares at me like I just declared the Earth flat. I need to just deny everything. I’m having a hard time wrapping my head around Garrett kissing me and the way my body is still on fire from it. I need a moment to think rationally, and my friend is not helping with that.

“Have you seen Garrett with George? The dog practically tries to crawl into his lap every time he shows up—that’s like, a big deal. And don’t even get me started on the way he looks at you.”

“He doesn’t—” I start, but she cuts me off, standing and tossing her now-empty popcorn bag into the trash.

“I saw that kiss.”

I suck in a breath. Dang it. I was hoping no one else saw that, especially not how he practically sprinted away from me after it.

“Maya Greene, speechless, what do you know about that?” she says softly with a giggle. “Miracles do happen, George.”

I roll my eyes again and start toward my office. I let out a groan and shake my head. Garrett did kiss me, so he is attracted to me in some way, but I absolutely cannot be attracted to him.

I am not ready to date. I’m especially not ready to date a man who’s working in the same building as me, it would make things too awkward.

I walk into the office and close the door behind me, George padding along faithfully beside me. I immediately sink into my chair, letting my head fall back.

I can’t ignore the knot in my stomach, the way my thoughts keep drifting back to Garrett. To the way, his voice softened when he said my name earlier. To the glint in his eyes when he pulled away from kissing me. To the way his presence seems to take up more space than it should, making it impossible to think straight.

I glance at George, who’s settled at my feet, looking up at me with his big, trusting eyes. “What do you think, huh?” I ask him. “Am I losing it?”

George huffs, laying his head on his paws, clearly uninterested in my existential crisis.

I lean back in my chair, running a hand through my hair. I press my fingers to my temples, trying to rub the thoughts away. This is stupid. Ridiculous. I have more important things to worry about than Garrett McAllister and whatever weird tension exists between us.

He dated my sister, for goodness’ sake; that’s weird and makes him off limits.

My eyes scan around the room and fall on the box, sitting there like it always does, mocking me from the chair by the window. A plain, nondescript cardboard box, its corners slightly crumpled from being shuffled from one place to another in my office. It’s been a year since I took it from my sister’s house—no return address, no note, just my name scrawled across the top in her loopy handwriting.

“If anything ever happens to me, don’t let Mom and Dad find my journals or my laptop,”Megan teased one day.“But…in my bedroom closet, stashed in the back is a box for you. There’s another box for Alex. And letters for mom and dad.”

“Megs, why would you tell me this? Is…are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” she giggled airily. “It’s part of my recovery and…I don’t know. I’ve lost so many friends and I just want to be prepared, you know? Carson didn’t leave you anything, Maya, and I don’t want to do the same.”

I held up my hand to stop her, tears rolling down my cheeks. “Okay, okay, I get it.”

“I think it’ll give you closure.”

I stare at that box as if she’s going to jump out of it sometimes, as if it’ll just disappear and all be a dream. Every time I look at it, guilt churns in my stomach. I know I should open it. I need to open it. But not today. Opening that box means that my sister is really gone. Right now, I can trick my brain into believing that she’ll walk through that door any minute and tell me that it was all some sick joke. I’m not ready to say goodbye, and I don’t know that I ever will be. I glance at my cluttered desk, a tower of grant applications teetering dangerously close to my coffee cup. There’s too much to do. Saturday nights at the youth center don’t plan themselves.

With a sigh, I pull my focus back to my laptop. The karaoke fundraiser lineup needs finalizing, and I still have to double-check the sound system. At least Alex and Mason promised tocome early to help set up. They’re lifesavers, those two. If not for them, I’d probably be buried under paperwork and poorly executed ideas by now.

It was so much easier when Megs and Greta were here to help me with things.

The kids have been buzzing about karaoke night all week. It’s supposed to be fun, but the stakes feel higher than that. We need this fundraiser to do well. If we can bring in enough money, it’ll mean more programs, better equipment, and maybe even the summer trip we’ve been dreaming about for the kids who can’t afford camp.

By the time the first parents and kids stream through the double doors, the youth center is almost unrecognizable on Saturday night. String lights twinkle along the walls, a DIY disco ball Mason rigged up sparkles from the ceiling, and the stage glows under soft pink and blue lights.

“This is amazing,” Alex says, standing beside me with a clipboard in hand. His face is serious, but I can see the excitement bubbling under his calm exterior. “Did you see Mason’s setup? He managed to get a fog machine.”

---