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I turn toward the sink and crank the hot water tap. Immediately, a steady stream of water pours from it. So I’m assuming that means it’s not an issue with the water supply for the whole building. I’m not a plumber, however, and I have no idea what could be wrong with the shower.

Sighing, I resign myself to going downstairs and telling someone about the issue.

After brushing my teeth, I change into jean shorts and a plain, light gray shirt, not feeling clean enough to wear a dress. Then I slap an old Red Sox cap on my head to hide my hair, because it really needs a wash. When I’m as presentable as I can get, I head downstairs to the lobby.

The assistant manager, Danny, is behind the front desk, but Brenden is there too, leaning sideways against it and chatting animatedly with him. I feel bad that I’m about to ruin his day. I suppose I could go over to Andrew’s place every day to shower, but that would be annoying for both of us. Plus if there’s an issue with my shower, there could be issues in other guest rooms too, and Brenden will need to know about it.

“Good morning, Riley!” Brenden greets me with a genuine smile when he sees me approaching.

“Hi,” I say nervously. “Do you have a minute? I have sort of a situation in my room.”

The happy expression on his face quickly falls. “What’s wrong?”

Tugging at the brim of my cap, I shift my gaze slightly over his shoulder. “When I tried to turn on the shower this morning, nothing came out.”

“Ah, shit,” Danny mutters. Then he grimaces when Brenden shoots him a dirty look. “Sorry. Let me find the number for the plumber.”

As Danny starts typing on the computer, Brenden turns his focus back to me. “I am so, so sorry for the inconvenience. I promise I’ll get this sorted out as quickly as possible. I would move you to another room right now, but I’m afraid we’re completely booked at the moment. But maybe I could offer one of the guests—”

“No, it’s okay,” I assure him. “I’m not going to demand another room. Hopefully, it’ll be an easy fix. It’s not an emergency yet.” With a small chuckle, I add, “That is unless I’m already starting to smell.”

Brenden laughs loudly, my joke seeming to put him more at ease, though it’s obvious he’s still stressed. “I’m gonna check it out and see what I can do first, while Danny gets a professional out here. But don’t expect any miracles from me. This isn’t my forte. My boyfriend’s the one who handles it when things break at my house. Come to think of it, I can probably get him out here faster than the plumber and see if he can help.”

“I’m sorry about this,” I offer, although I know it’s not in any way my fault. But apologizing for things that aren’t my fault is a habit I’ve picked up from being in the public eye for so long. From trying to be the country sweetheart all the time.

“Absolutely not,” he says, shaking his head furiously. “We’re the only ones who need to apologize. Now why don’t you go to the dining room to have breakfast—on us, of course—while I go up to your room and try to figure out what’s going on. Unless you’d prefer to be present while the staff is in your room.”

“Oh, no, that’s fine. Do whatever you need to do.” Tugging on my cap again, I add, “I hope I haven’t left things too messy.”

He smiles at me. “Nonsense. You’re here for an extended stay. We expect you to make yourself at home in the room.”

I nod, thinking about how Ihavestarted to feel at home here. Which is silly. This is an inn. It’s only meant for temporary visits. My home isback in Nashville. A house that’s much too big for me, sitting on seven acres.

But having all that space to myself can get lonely, even if my parents stop by a lot. There’s something nice about being here, around other people. If I get lonely up in my room, I can come downstairs, and even if I’m not talking to anyone, the feeling eases. And then when I’ve had enough, I can escape right back up to the room.

When Brenden leaves me, I do as he suggested and grab a table in the dining room. I eat breakfast slowly, killing time. But I haven’t gotten an update from him by the time I’m done, so then I head out onto the porch. There’s nothing for me to do out here but sit and think. I wish I had my guitar, but I don’t want to go upstairs and disturb anyone if they’re working on the shower.

Taking out my phone, I start scrolling social media, even though it’s a bad idea. And I remember why when I come across a post titled “Hidden Queer Coding in Riley Rowland’s Songs.” It has way too many slides, which I only briefly swipe through, curious and yet also not really wanting to know the “evidence” people have compiled in their quest to determine my sexuality.

I’ve learned from being in the industry long enough that people can twist anything a celebrity does or says to fit into whatever narrative they’re trying to push. But this is exactly the kind of thing I’m supposed to be ignoring right now. I can’t afford to send myself into another spiral like the one that led me to those bad decisions in that dive bar.

Right as I’m sliding my phone away, I notice a white van traveling slowly up the inn’s driveway. It pulls into the employee lot, and when it parks, I can read the words in faded black paint across the side.roscoe's plumbing service.

Guess I’m not getting back into my room any time soon. With a sigh, I push out of my seat and decide to go for a walk. I could call Andrew and ask him to come hang out with me, but I’m pretty sure he goes to a yogaclass right around this time today with Toby.

After I get tired of wandering the inn’s grounds, I head back inside. In the lobby, Brenden is talking to Danny, looking far more stressed than he did when I first found him this morning. Which probably means he doesn’t have good news for me.

“Riley, there you are.” His greeting isn’t quite as warm as before. “We were able to get the plumber out here right away, but I’m afraid it’s going to be a couple days before he can fix the problem. Whatever the problem is. Honestly, I didn’t understand half the words he was saying, but I guess he needs to order some parts with names that sound like sneezes, and I’ve been calling other inns in the area, checking for an open room I can get you into, but I haven’t had any luck so far. Everyone’s booked up. Which is good, right? Good for summer tourism, I mean. Not good for you, or for me, or—”

“Dude, breathe,” Danny says, thankfully cutting Brenden off before he passes out. His face was starting to turn red.

Brenden frowns. “Right. Well. What I’m trying to say is that I’m still working on finding a room for you.”

I’m about to tell him it’s fine, that I can live without a working shower for a couple days. I can grab a shower at Andrew’s when I need to. But then Addison walks by, heading down the hall. She stops as she spots us by the desk and changes course to come over.

It’s possible that Brenden’s obvious frantic state drew her in like an emergency beacon.

“What’s going on over here?” she asks, glancing cautiously between me and him.