After leaving Travis and his friends at the dance studio, I met Hannah at the hardware store so I could buy the paints for the mural.

“You know,” she said as I pushed the shopping cart up the aisle, “first comes love, then comes marriage, then comes Emma with a baby carriage. But nowhere in the song does it say, ‘First comes the guy stripping off his clothes in public.’ ”

“What the heck are you talking about? I’m not in love.” Lust, maybe.

Definitely lust.

She laughed. “Didn’t say you were. Yet. But hello, I’ve seen the guy. How can you not be interested?”

“Looks don’t mean everything,” I said, stopping in front of the paint I was searching for. “A guy might look hot but end up being a jerk.”

“So true.” Hannah was more than familiar with this type of man. She was the epitome of a jerk magnet. I was just the magnet for boring. “But let’s examine for a moment what we know about Travis. First—he didn’t have to but he’s helping you paint the mural at the youth center, and he’s doing it for free. Doesn’t sound like a jerk to me.”

“True, but—”

“Second—even though he didn’t have to, he and his teammates will be stripping in front of a bunch of horny women to raise money for charity.”

“Well, they’re not exactly stripping all the way. Their hockey team won’t allow it.”

She flicked her hand in the air as though batting away an annoying housefly. “That’s neither here nor there. He’s still doing it.”

“Also true.”

“And let’s not forget he could’ve just told his grandmother to bugger off about his love life. But instead of hurting her feelings, he’s pretending to date you so she’s happy for the time being. And he has to sacrifice sex for the next four and half weeks because of this.”

I snickered. “Yes—the poor baby. The mayor should erect a statue in Travis’s honor because of his sacrifice.” Yep, the pun had been intentional.

Hannah burst out laughing. “You know what you need?”

“Paints. And some paintbrushes.” I grabbed a paintbrush from the shelf. “Plus the rollers.”

“You need to get laid.” Of course she said this as a woman who looked to be a day short of one hundred years old approached us.

I flinched. “I don’t need to get laid,” I said, practically hissing the words, but low enough so the woman wouldn’t hear me.

Only I suspected I wasn’t all that successful. She turned to us with the same impish gleam in her eyes that I had seen with Fanny. “Everyone needs to get laid, young lady. Some of us just aren’t so lucky to get it anymore.”

“And there you have it,” Hannah said, the corners of her mouth twitching. “It’s official—you need to get laid. While you still can.”

“What do you mean while I still can? I’ve got plenty of time.”

“You got four and half weeks left with Travis. That will be gone before you know it, and then you’ll regret you waited so long.”

“Oh, please, there’ll be other guys after him.”

Hannah raised an eyebrow. “Really? Because I can’t remember the last time you actually went out with a guy.”

“That doesn’t mean I won’t go out with anyone after Travis and I end things.”

The woman listened avidly to our conversation, her head moving back and forth between us as we spoke. “Is your boyfriend moving away?” she asked.

“No,” I replied without thinking how that sounded. “It’s only a temporary thing.” Yes—because that had sounded so much better. I mentally groaned.

“Temporary? Is he not a very nice young man?”

Hannah chuckled. “No, I’d say he is a nice young man. At least so far he seems that way.”

“It’s complicated,” I added.

“What relationship isn’t complicated?” the elderly woman said. “And sometimes those are the best ones.”

“Not in this case.” And because the woman must’ve had magical powers, the words I’d never even told Hannah broke free. “I was in the same high school as him for a few months. He was supposed to be my project partner for one of our classes, but because he didn’t want to work with me, he got out of it and I had to do all the work myself.”

Was that cathartic—laying it all out to a stranger? Nope, not at all.

I wasn’t sure why I’d even said it. I had already made peace with what had happened.

“Why do you believe he didn’t wish to work with you?” the woman asked.

“Because I was living in foster care. And not a great one at that. I didn’t have fashionable or new clothes. Not like his friends at the time had. My clothes were falling apart and out of date. His girlfriend used to make fun of me and call me a homeless street bum.” And she still called me that after they broke up.

Did I need a violin to play along as I explained it to the woman and Hannah? No, it was all good. Kendra couldn’t hurt me anymore.

And really, when I thought about it, it all came down to Kendra, not Travis. Her words still cut deep. For years after, I’d felt undeserving…unworthy.

“Oh, honey,” the woman said, “I doubt he didn’t want to do the project with you because you were in foster care.”

“And I bet if that were the case now,” Hannah said, eyes glistening, “he wouldn’t still feel that way. Not with everything he’s doing to help you when it comes to the youth center.”

I smiled softly. “I know.” And I did.

“Can I ask how you ended up in the system?” the woman asked.

“My mother got bored of being my mom. She walked away one day and never came back.”

“And your father?”

I shrugged. “Never knew him. Other than his accidental sperm donation, he wasn’t in the picture and my mom never talked about him. It was like he never really existed.”

I glanced behind me, almost expecting to find a comfy leather couch. Attention ladies and gentlemen. We have free psychotherapy in aisle five.

Did I want to run and hide from the truth? Yes—but somehow telling a complete stranger my dark secrets felt good. I had never shared them with anyone before, not even with Hannah.

“How many foster homes did you live in?”

“Seven.”

“Boyfriends? Other than your current one, how many have you had?”

I glanced at Hannah and almost laughed at her please-don’t-let-her-ask-me-these-questions expression.

“A serious one back in college. Since then, I’ve been dating guys but I haven’t met the right one yet.”

“And how did it end with the boy back in college?”

That’s right, everyone—Dr. Lovejoy was a fraud.

Fortunately, the elderly woman had no idea about my alter ego. What did Hannah think about it, given both our love lives sucked? She got a huge kick out of it.

“I gave him my V-card…I mean my virginity. He couldn’t get away quick enough after that.” Even Olympic sprinters couldn’t move that fast.

The woman’s eyes were free of sympathy—always a bonus. Instead, understanding lit them from within. Only I had no clue what she understood.

“You said you’ve dated other men. Is it usually just one date or more than one?”

“Depends on the guy.”

“They rarely last more than three dates,” Hannah piped in. Her expression then morphed into an Oops-didn’t-mean-to-do-that look.

I nodded at the woman’s questioning gaze. Yes, it’s true.

“Friends? Other than…” She indicated to Hannah.

“Hannah’s my best friend. We lived in foster care together when we were seventeen. And I have a few other friends.” Like Kate.

“Are you close or are they friendly acquaintances you hang out with from time to time?”

“I guess more like the latter. We’re all busy, so we don’t get together as much as we would like.” That was one of the joys of owning your own business. No time.

“Seems to me that you have a fear of being abandoned again like your father and mother did to you. Like your ex-boyfriend did to you. Which means you tend to avoid long-term relationships. Other than with Hannah, you don’t let yourself get too close to people.”

I shook my head. “That’s not true. I don’t fear being abandoned, I don’t avoid getting close to people, and I do want a long-term relationship.”

Hannah’s expression said the opposite. She agreed with the woman.

And here you’ve been judging Travis and his fear of commitment when you’re no better than he is, a know-it-all voice in my head pointed out.

Denial twisted inside me. I pushed it aside.

“Are you telling me I’ll never have a boyfriend again?” Wow, talk about depressing. Maybe it was time to do a little research. I had always longed for a big chubby cat. Could you be a crazy cat lady with only one cat? Or did you need an army of them to qualify for the title?

“But you already have a boyfriend, dear,” the woman said.

“Only for four and half more weeks.”

“Because it’s complicated?”

I nodded. “Very complicated.” I didn’t want to imagine what she would think if she found out I was just Travis’s fake girlfriend. “So what can I do to fix me? I don’t suppose I’ll get lucky and there’s a pill I can take?” Or maybe my fairy godmother would finally pay me a visit and make everything better.

No, I didn’t believe that would happen either.

Or maybe this woman was my fairy godmother. But instead of saying, “Bibbity bobbity boo,” the modern-day version just doled out advice.

“You might consider therapy.”

My heart sank in my chest, knowing I would never do that. For one, I didn’t have time.

And what if someone found out Dr. Lovejoy yearned to fall in love but was afraid of being dumped again? Because with my track record, it was bound to happen. It wasn’t like there was a twelve-step program for people like me.

“You’ll have to learn to trust that people who care about you won’t hurt you like you’ve been hurt in the past,” the woman said. “And that will take a very special young man to earn that trust—because it won’t be easy.”

Which meant after Travis was no longer in my life, there would be no more chances to get laid.

Yeah, yeah—I know. That wasn’t exactly what she meant. But the reality? I didn’t do one-night stands. And given how my body was currently on strike when it came to orgasms and Alejandro, I was seriously screwed—and not in the good way.

I thanked the woman for her advice. After she left us, Hannah and I found the paint and supplies I needed. Neither of us spoke much—both deep in thought about what the woman had told us.

At least that’s what I assumed Hannah was dwelling on, due to her sudden subdued self.

What else was I thinking about?

Travis. This afternoon. Shirtless.