The Anatomy of Matchmaking by Evie Sterling EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Author: Evie Sterling
- Language: English
- Genre: Clean & Wholesome Romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
Maddison
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Present Day
“SO… THE RUMOR IS TRUE.” Roxie sits, bouncing the couch I’m sprawled
out on.
“Ugh…” I groan as I drag my gaze away from the television and then
roll to my side to make more room for her.
“This pullout couch. What is it, twenty years old? I think I can feel
every freaking box spring,” she says. “You look terrible,” she adds, not
helping.
“Hello, little sister dearest. It’s so nice to see you, too.”
She folds her legs up so she’s cross-legged and scrutinizes my face.
“Seriously, Maddison… What’s going on? We haven’t seen you for a year
and a half, and now you’re here. Your face is puffy, you have circles under
your eyes, and… what is this… ice cream? For breakfast?”
I cast an embarrassed eye to the coffee table at my side. The container
of double chocolate fudge swirl has a silver spoon poking over the brim.
My parents’ basement used to be a much-loved rec room when Roxie
and I both lived at home. But it’s clearly become more of a spill-over
storage area than an actual hangout spot over the past decade-plus, since
both of us little birdies flew the coop.
A pile of my mother’s second-string dresses are draped over a chair.
The exercise bike my dad bought one January, when he was in one of those
New Year Optimism streaks, is covered in a thick layer of dust.
The television is seriously outdated. A pile of cardboard boxes teeters to
its left. I’m not sure about the last time anyone vacuumed down here, but
based on the musty smell, it’s been a while.
“I drove home from LA to languish on an old couch and work my way
through a carton of ice cream because my life is going great,” I deadpan. I
don’t have the energy to even try to justify my behavior.
“It’s eleven a.m. Why aren’t you dressed?”
I glance down at my oversized T-shirt and faded striped pajama pants.
My threadbare hooded sweatshirt with the Stillwell Diner logo on the chest
is unzipped, and that might be a chocolate smudge covering the “S.”
All I can do is groan.
Then, with massive effort, I plant my palms behind me, making the
whole awful couch creak, and struggle up to sitting. “This is not my finest
moment. You don’t have to rub it in.”
“I’m not rubbing it in, I’m just trying to get the picture. Mom says you
left LA on Thursday and you’re going to stay here for a while…? She said
you had some bad luck but you don’t want to talk about it?”
“I didn’t want to talk about it with her and Dad last night, because I was
too tired. Driving across the country does that.”
“But you’ll tell me, right?” She reaches for the ice cream and works the
spoon into the melty mix. When she takes a bite, her eyes close. “Oh my
word. Okay, ice cream for breakfast isn’t such a bad idea. Why is this the
first time in my life I’ve done this?” She takes another scoop.
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