CHAPTER SIX
A few weeks later, it was Kendall’s birthday. We’d spent a lot of time together since our evening at the pizzeria. Our affection for one another was increasing the same way water levels do when the spring thaw finally comes after a long, harsh winter.
For his birthday I made him a giant rice crispy treat topped with chocolate peanut butter. Kendall was in Portland visiting a friend and flying home that night. I had a lot to do that day so I rushed over, walked up the narrow, creaky backstairs of his building and let myself in. That old building was so romantic. I grew up in roach infested apartments and only saw places like this in movies. I took pleasure in the feeling of walking up the stairs, the wood worn from decades of people making their way home, and wrapping my hand around the old knob, placing the hefty key into the lock and opening the door.
Without closing the door behind me, I left the treat on the counter of his kitchen along with a note and headed back out, l…