Nash Brothers Box Set - Carrie Aarons Page 0,10

apartment? Your job? How’s Daniel?

Ryan and I lived together when I first moved to the Big Apple after college. We met at a spin class and fell in friendship love over organic avocado burgers. And now that I think about it, I kind of want to slap myself in the face for ever being that uppity. We shared an apartment for three years, until she moved in with her boyfriend, Daniel. He worked at a big Wall Street financial firm, and while I liked him okay, I couldn’t really understand what Ryan saw in him. She was a smart-as-hell coder at one of the biggest social media companies in the world, ran triathlons, and had lived in London for half of her childhood. Compared to her, Daniel was drier than gluten-free bread.

Ryan: Apartment is no more. Same with Daniel. He wanted to go to Florida for our summer vacation. I wanted to go to Madrid. It took me this long to see that the guy was dull as drywall. Who the hell wastes a year of their life for that?

Presley: Thank God, I don’t know how many more times I could point out to you that the man ironed his socks. Good riddance. So, Madrid it is, then?

Ryan: I leave in two weeks, can’t wait. My boss is going to let me work remotely for two months, so I’ll be there for a while. A tryst with a Latin lover sounds like exactly the right dose of medicine to heal my stupid heart. Care to join me?

Her life was so cool, and it made me jealous more than I wished to admit.

Presley: Gotta pass this time, love. Have to stay here to help Grandma out. You should come visit, though. You might get a hoot out of this place. Plus, I’m thinking about hosting a yoga class. They don’t have a studio here.

Ryan: Wait, you’re going to start your own class? That’s fucking awesome, Pres. Proud of you. Maybe I’ll journey to bumblefuck after my European tour. Gotta get back to work, can’t keep the masses from posting their most ridiculous inner thoughts. Love you.

Presley: Love you, more.

Sighing, I set my phone down on the counter and start the procedure for locking up. I don’t know why I’d randomly told her that I might start a yoga class. Keaton Nash had only told me about the library offerings less than half an hour ago. But the idea was flicking me in the forehead now, and wouldn’t go away, like an annoying little brother.

I’d obviously noticed in the month I’d lived here that Fawn Hill didn’t have a yoga studio, much less a gym. I’d been doing my practice on a yoga mat in Grandma’s basement, and that was getting pretty old. It wasn’t relaxing or soothing to move through sequences in a dank, moldy, unfinished room.

Maybe I’ll check into the library classes like Keaton had mentioned. The worst the person running them could say was no. But, if they said yes, this might be something I could do for myself. It might be the start of something.

And wasn’t it strange that the idea of building something here, of putting down roots in this small town, didn’t have me sprinting in the other direction?

7

Keaton

Sun rays peak out from behind the clouds as my feet hit the pavement.

I rounded the bend on the far end of the lake at Bloomsbury Park, running steadily around the mile-long track paved into the shores of the town’s only body of water. Sweat trickled from my brows … for the first week of June, it was humid and hot even at eight in the morning. My calves ached and the knee I’d hyperextended playing baseball in high school screamed at me. But I kept going. The burn in my lungs felt cathartic, and running is one of the only activities that takes me out of my own head.

My life might not look stressful, living in a small town as a single guy, but the responsibility on my shoulders was, at times, crushing. I ran my own veterinary practice. Aside from Dierdra answering the phones and keeping the schedule, and my accountant looking at my books every quarter, I did most everything else. I saw patients, operated, birthed farm animals, ordered supplies, ran our small social media presence, participated in community events, and volunteered at the county shelter twice a month.

And that was just my job. I was also the oldest child, and with Dad gone, the