Grieving the loss of her best friend, a young woman’s life is turned upside down when she meets a grumpy stranger who swears he can help her live again, in this heartwarming, slow-burn romance by the author of Lenny’s a bit of a mess at the moment. Ever since cancer stole away her best friend, she has been completely lost. She’s avoiding her concerned parents, the apartment she shared with her best friend, and the ever-laminated “live again” list of things she’s promised to do to survive her grief. But maybe if she acts like she has it all together, no one will notice she’s falling apart. The only gigs she can handle right now are temporary babysitting jobs, and she just landed a great one, helping overworked, single mom Reese and her precocious daughter, Ainsley. The only catch: Ainsley’s uncle, Miles, always seems to be around, and is kind of. . .;a walking version of the grumpy cat meme. Worse – he seems to be able to see right through her. Surprisingly, Miles knows a lot about grief and he offers Lenny a proposition. He’ll help her complete everything on her “live again” list if she’ll help him connect with Ainsley and overcome his complicated relationship with Reese. Lenny doubts anything can fill the void her best friend has left behind, but between late night ferry rides, midnight ramen, and a well-placed shoulder whenever she needs it, Miles just won’t stop showing up for her. Turns out, sometimes your life has to end to find your new beginning.

Autorentext
Cara Bastone is the author of Ready or Not. She lives and writes in Brooklyn with her husband, sons, and an almost-goldendoodle. Her goal with her work is to find the swoon in ordinary love stories. She's been a fan of the romance genre since she found a grocery bag filled with her grandmother's old Harlequin Romances when she was in high school. She's a fangirl for pretzel sticks, long walks through Prospect Park, and love stories featuring men who aren't hobbled by their own masculinity.

Klappentext

**How do you find yourself after you lose the one you loved the most?

NATIONAL BESTSELLER • Grieving the loss of her best friend, a young woman’s life is turned upside down when she meets a grumpy stranger who swears he can help her live again, in this heartwarming, slow-burn romance by the author of Ready or Not.**

**A BEST BOOK OF THE YEAR: NPR, Elle, Library Journal, New York Public Library, *Seattle Times

Lenny’s a bit of a mess at the moment. Ever since cancer stole away her best friend, she has been completely lost. She’s avoiding her concerned parents, the apartment she shared with her best friend, and the ever-laminated “live again” list of things she’s promised to do to survive her grief. But maybe if she acts like she has it all together, no one will notice she’s falling apart.

The only gigs she can handle right now are temporary babysitting jobs, and she just landed a great one, helping overworked, single mom Reese and her precocious daughter, Ainsley. The only catch: Ainsley’s uncle, Miles, always seems to be around, and is kind of. . . a walking version of the grumpy cat meme. Worse – he seems to be able to see right through her.

Surprisingly, Miles knows a lot about grief and he offers Lenny a proposition. He’ll help her complete everything on her “live again” list if she’ll help him connect with Ainsley and overcome his complicated relationship with Reese. Lenny doubts anything can fill the void her best friend has left behind, but between late night ferry rides, midnight ramen, and a well-placed shoulder whenever she needs it, Miles just won’t stop showing up for her. Turns out, sometimes your life has to end to find your new beginning.

Leseprobe
Chapter One

This baby will not stop judging me.

The B train brakes and we all slide two inches to the side. Perched atop their mother’s lap, the straps of a bright red sunhat pinned under chubby cheeks, somber, unblinking eyes, the baby studies me, trying to decide if I have a soul.

I stick my tongue out and make my ears dance.

No reaction.

I pull my cheeks out to the sides and do rabbit teeth.

Not even a blink.

Finally, as the train is pulling into my stop, in a last-minute bid to be judged human, I use my ponytail as a mustache.

And there. Finally. I get one radiant, two-toothed smile.

Thank goodness. I guess there is a soul in this scraped-out husk of mine after all. I wave goodbye and bound up, off the train, and head west. It’s dog-breath hot out here and I can’t believe I’ve mustered up the energy for this.

But the thing about losing the person you love the most on earth is—somehow—you still have to do mundane things like tie your shoes and make enough money to continue to exist in this punishing world. So, I plod on. Toward yet another short-term nannying gig. Just to keep the Froot Loops on the table. Even though I’d really rather crawl into that trash can over there and emerge in about a decade.

Oh, look. I’m here. It’s a gigantic brick apartment building. The lobby is populated by a group of people who look so happy I wouldn’t be surprised if their lives suddenly turned into a musical. They mob the doorman with luggage, so I go up on tiptoes and shout to him where I’m headed.

“Ah. They’re expecting you,” he calls to me in an Eastern European accent. “Eight-eenth floor.”

By the time the elevator dings, I’m in a better mood. One of my former babysitting families recommended me to Reese so that I can help out with her kid while she’s out of town this weekend. Besides, here in the worst six months of my life, the only thing that’s brought me even a hint of happiness has been hanging out with the kids I babysit. I’m between jobs right now, so this new family is likely going to be the only spot of light in my life for a bit.

I ring the doorbell and ten seconds later, perfection personified answers the door. She’s got blond hair in a high ponytail and is decked out in head-to-toe Lululemon.

“Hi, I’m Reese.” She holds out her hand and smiles so toothily that I find myself grinning back.

“Lenny. Nice to meet you.”

“Thank you for agreeing on such short notice. My friend Harper usually helps out for stuff like this, but she’s busy during the days this weekend. She’s the one who will be staying overnight with Ainsley. Anyways, come in, please. Did you get my email?”

“I did,” I assure her. It was literally six and a half pages single-spaced and filled with so much loving detail on how to care for her daughter that it teared me up. I come inside and kick off my shoes, straightening them when I realize that all the other shoes are in perfect pairs. We’re in a roomy front hallway, painted a trendy mauve and lined with gigantic black-and-white photographs.

“So, Ainsley is back in the—” The doorbell rings again right after Reese closes the door, and she frowns. She pulls the door back open and her shoulders cinch about two inches upward when she sees who it is. “What’s up, Miles?”

There’s a man standing in the crack of the door that Reese has just opened, and I get the feeling he might have wedged his foot in there so she can’t close it.

He’s not good-looking, really. Low-grade sexy. He’s wearing a used-to-be-black hoodie stretched over two big shoulders and faded blue jeans. Viciously short dark hair and the kind of stubble you can’t ever shave away. Judging by that promising scowl, he’s the type who’d really en…