By the time I stepped through my own front door, it was past midnight, and my feet were killing me. After detangling all of those bikes, my hands weren't doing much better.
My only hope for salvation was a long, hot bath with plenty of bubbles and the last of the Moscato I'd left chilling in the fridge.
I shut the door behind me and leaned against it with my eyes shut, willing my limbs not to give out. I was two seconds away from stripping off my sneakers and dragging myself upstairs when I caught a familiar scent – lavender bubble bath – my own, if I wasn't mistaken.
I opened my eyes just in time to see Tessa glide down the stairs, wrapped in a plush white robe that looked fresh from a luxury spa.
Her long blonde hair was twisted into a golden bun, her skin shimmered with flawless perfection, and even her robe was wrinkle-free. Reluctantly, I glanced down at myself. If my own skin shimmered at all, it was with sweat, despair, and bicycle grease.
AndIdidn't smell like lavender, that's for sure.
When she spotted me, she smiled, all fresh-faced and glowy. "Oh, hey! You're home late."
No kidding.And I would've been home even later if I'd had to return on foot. Thank goodness, I'd been able to borrow a bike from the shop. The distance wasn't quite a mile, but that was beside the point. Before I could stop myself, I'd already said, "And just imagine if I'd had to walk."
Her smile faltered. "Oh, gosh. You're still mad about the bike, huh?"
Sometime around noon, Tessa had texted me an apology for taking my bike without permission – claiming that she'd gotten it mixed up with the rental bike I'd loaned her almost a month ago.
Of course, this was a load of bunk.Ithadto be – because if she'd simply mixed them up, where was the loaner bike? I hadn't seen it this morning, or I would have ridden it to work.
Instead, I'd been forced to walk. And I would've been forced to walk back home, too, if not for the fact that I had dozens of rental bikes at my easy disposal.Did that make me lucky?
I wasn'tfeelinglucky. Not today, anyway.
To Tessa's question, I posed one of my own. "So, where's the bike I loaned you?" I probably should've asked by text. And I would have, except for the fact that I'd spent most of the day putting out fires bigger than a missing bike.But now? Yeah, I was worried.
If the bike was lost, it's not like I could afford to replace it.
She frowned. "Didn't you see my text?"
"I saw the one," I said, reaching into my pocket for my phone. "Was there more?"
"Yeah, but I'll just tell you," she said, pointing toward the rear of the house. "The loaner bike…it's in the back entryway."
I stopped in mid-reach. "Whythere?"
She gave a little wince. "Because that's where I left it yesterday."
I tried to think.This morning, had I checked out back?I couldn't remember either way. Then again, I shouldn't havehadto check because my own bike should've been exactly where I'd left it – right there on the front porch.
Tessa went on. "But I totally forgot that's where I put it, and it was dark this morning when I left for work." She hesitated. "Want to hear something funny?"
Not really. "Sure."
She let out a little laugh, like she knew how lame all of this sounded. "I didn't even realize I'd grabbed the wrong one until I went outside for lunch."
I bit back what Iwantedto say. Unlike Tessa,Iwould have realized, because for one thing, Tessa was like four inches taller than me.How had she not noticed?This, of course, assumed that she was telling the truth.
"Anyway…" Tessa continued. "Sorry for the mix-up."
Grudgingly, I said, "Don't worry about it."
Her voice softened. "It won't happen again, promise."
I wasn't quite sure I believed her.
This must've shown on my face because she quickly added, "Seriously, I'll set an alarm or tie a ribbon to the handlebars or something."
