Copyright © 2018 by Ella Fields

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, copied, resold or distributed in any form, or by any electronic or mechanical means, without permission in writing from the author, except for brief quotations within a review.

This book is a work of fiction.

Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental.

Table of Contents

TITLE PAGE

COPYRIGHT

AUTHOR'S NOTE

DEDICATION

EPIGRAPH

PROLOGUE

ONE

TWO

THREE

FOUR

FIVE

SIX

SEVEN

EIGHT

NINE

TEN

ELEVEN

TWELVE

THIRTEEN

FOURTEEN

FIFTEEN

SIXTEEN

SEVENTEEN

EIGHTEEN

NINETEEN

TWENTY

TWENTY-ONE

TWENTY-TWO

TWENTY-THREE

TWENTY-FOUR

TWENTY-FIVE

TWENTY-SIX

TWENTY-SEVEN

TWENTY-EIGHT

TWENTY-NINE

THIRTY

THIRTY-ONE

THIRTY-TWO

THIRTY-THREE

THIRTY-FOUR

THIRTY-FIVE

THIRTY-SIX

THIRTY-SEVEN

THIRTY-EIGHT

THIRTY-NINE

FORTY

FORTY-ONE

FORTY-TWO

FORTY-THREE

FORTY-FOUR

FORTY-FIVE

FORTY-SIX

FORTY-SEVEN

FORTY-EIGHT

FORTY-NINE

FIFTY

FIFTY-ONE

FIFTY-TWO

FIFTY-THREE

EPILOGUE

PREVIEW OF SUDDENLY FORBIDDEN

ONE

TWO

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

FIND ELLA HERE

This story has been waiting for me for quite some time.

I just needed the right characters.

As soon as Toby and Pippa walked onto the page in Suddenly Forbidden, I knew I’d found them.

The realization filled me with excitement but also a great amount of fear.

That fear was warranted. This story was hard.

There were times I wanted to give up, or completely rewrite the whole thing over and over again.

I guess that’s the gamble we writers take when we try to do justice in telling a story that’s very close to our hearts.

Anxiety, depression—any mental illness—you simply can’t lug them into a one-size-fits-all category.

This is in no way my story, but I have drawn from experiences in my life. And while I know this is a subject that affects so many of us, this story was based on my experience with ONE person. And I couldn’t be prouder of that person or the eye-opening journey these characters took me on.

For the strongest man I know.

Darkness can deliver monsters invisible to the naked eye.

Love can light up that darkness and suddenly those monsters have a face.

A name.

A shadow.

And a weakness.

And where there’s a weakness, there’s a chance for victory.

I didn’t know what time it was, but the sun had risen hours ago, and my dad was still in bed.

Mom said he sometimes got real tired on the weekends after spending a long week at work. He was a builder—he even built the very house we lived in—so I guess that made sense. Only, I didn’t think anyone should like to spend their days sleeping all the time. I couldn’t understand how you’d want to miss out on life in such a way.

Then again, I was only thirteen, and as my brother, Drew, would say, how the heck would I know?

“Pippa! Get your stupid makeup set off the table already.” Drew shoved the large pink case aside and almost sent it crashing to the floor. “Mom’s only told you a hundred times not to leave it out.”

Sniffing, I squared my shoulders as I marched to the table to fold the case closed. “What’s it to you anyway? It’s not bothering anyone.”

“Pippa,” Mom scolded gently, walking into the dining room and placing a bowl of fruit on the table. “You know what your dad’s like so just put it away. Please.” She stood with her hands on her hips, and the look in her eyes had my shoulders drooping.

“Kay.” It was always the same old. My dad couldn’t deal with too much mess. Something about it put him in a sour mood, which, in turn, made my mom look like she was sucking on a rotten tomato until he eventually snapped out of it.

After putting the makeup away in my closet, I spent the morning with my word search book. I’d gotten three for Christmas, and this one was more challenging than any I’d had before.

Mom knocked on my door after lunch, saying she had to run Drew to hockey practice. If she wasn’t going to be gone long, she often let me stay home. I liked that she could trust me. What I didn’t like was that my dad was sleeping when he could’ve been spending time with me.

I missed him. I missed him even though he was only down the hall.

Sighing, I closed the book and tossed my pencil on the bed, making my way downstairs to get a drink.

The cool water slid down my throat as I watched a flock of birds take flight from the old oak tree outside the kitchen window. After putting my glass in the sink, I poured a second one but hesitated when I climbed back upstairs to my parents’ room.

Chewing my lip for a moment, I glanced down at the water in the glass, which felt cold in my shaky palm. I could hear the fan whirring on the other side of the door even though it was the middle of winter.

I shook my head and rapped lightly on the door with my free hand. No response—not that I expected one. Slowly, I pushed the door open and peeked inside.

“Dad?” Again, no response.

Mom had made the bed neatly around him as though he was a part of the décor and would easily blend into the room. My parents’ floral duvet was pulled over his head, but he wasn’t snoring like he usually would if he was sound asleep.

“Dad?” I asked again, a little louder this time.

“Not now, Pip.” His voice was groggy, rough, but clear and loud enough to make me wince.

“I got you some water.”

“I said not now. Shit.” Shuffling ensued, and I watched as he rolled over to face the window with a view of the mountaintops in the distance.

On bad days, his shortness with us most definitely stung. Guilt pricked at my conscience. I didn’t think I could be like my mom. Almost fourteen or not, my patience was wearing thin.

Stepping over to the bed, I placed the water down on his nightstand.

My feet paused on the woven rug near the door on my way out. “You know, Mom’s taken Drew to practice. Again.”

Hockey was Drew and Dad’s thing. And I get that my dad had issues. As much as I didn’t understand them, I still knew that he did. But Drew never spoke up about it. Even though I knew it had to hurt him every time Dad got in a mood or didn’t want to wake up, leaving Drew to paint on a smile for Mom instead.

Dad made a huffing sound, and I spun around when I heard the bed creak under his weight.

“I’m just tired, baby girl. It’s been a long week. He understands.”

Gritting my teeth, I inhaled deeply through my nose and slowly let it out through the crack between my lips. It didn’t help. “Does he, though? You do know that sleep promotes sleep, right?” Yes, I’d looked it up. “Maybe if you got up and did something, you’d be able to stay awake.”

He mumbled what sounded like, “Jesus Christ,” then sighed. “Pip, come here.”

My brows furrowed as I watched him maneuver to a sitting position, the duvet falling around his t-shirt covered waist.

“That’s okay. Just wanted to check in on you.” I turned to go, swallowing thickly.

“Pippa, please. Sit down.”

Closing my eyes, I counted to three, then moved over to the bed, trying to sound aloof with my next words. “What’s up?”

“Look at me.”

I did, noticing the red lining his eyes and the three-day-old scruff that peppered his jaw. My dad was a big guy—healthy looking, strong, and at least six foot tall. Maybe more. He’d always seemed so giant to me, king-like, and growing up, I’d wanted nothing more than his approval, his smiling eyes on me.

But looking at him now, I didn’t know how to place this image with the one I was so used to seeing in my memories. Or perhaps, the one I wanted to see. The one I’d built up as a defense mechanism in my own mind.

Because really, I hated looking at him when he was like this.

“What?” I rasped, wanting to kick myself for sounding so vulnerable.

Patting the bed, he dipped his head toward my mom’s pillow.

Forcing a smile, I climbed onto their bed and propped my mom’s pillows up to lay back against them.

“You remind me not only of your mother but also of my dad,” he stated.

Thinking about Grandpa Henry, I scrunched my face. Grandpa had unruly gray hairs filling his nostrils that matched his overgrown eyebrows. “Grandpa sometimes doesn’t remember who we are.”

My dad chuckled. “Dementia. He can’t help that. But once upon a time …” He bopped me on the nose, and I tried not to let my eyes flare open too wide. “He was a stubborn, opinionated, and very strong-willed man.”

“Yeah?” I asked, getting sucked into the life that lit my dad’s eyes ablaze.

“Yeah.” Then those eyes turned sad as he stared at me for a minute. “Promise me something.”

Too scared to blink, for fear I’d lose his gaze on mine, I simply nodded.

“Promise me, no matter what, you’ll never lose that.” A smile lit his eyes again but didn’t lift his lips. “You’re going to keep growing, changing, and learning. But promise me, what’s in here”—he reached over, his large finger tapping at the rainbow in the center of my blue t-shirt—“will remain the same.”

His finger dropped to the sheets, and I finally blinked.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

“Why are you saying that?” I croaked, my chest filling with a steady amount of hope but also an odd feeling of trepidation.

His lip was tugged behind his teeth as he stared at me, his expression now unreadable. “Because life will happen. Happen with it, but … don’t let it change who you are.”

After that, he laid back down, stared at me a while, and then fell asleep again.

Later that night, I woke to the sound of tires crunching over the gravel drive outside. The one Dad had never gotten around to concreting.

Crawling over the bed, I tugged my curtains aside, my sleepy eyes squinting into the dark and struggling to focus. But there was no mistaking what I saw.

The taillights shone like red omens as my dad’s truck disappeared, speeding off down the street.

I barely suppressed a groan as I shoveled some more mint chocolate chip ice cream into my mouth.

“Are you like, open? Or are you maybe on a break?”

With my eyes bulging in mild surprise, I slowly set the small cup of ice cream down and swallowed. Holy shit, it burned, but I plastered on a closed-lipped smile and wiped my hands on my blue apron. “Yeah, no. We’re open.” Duh, I wanted to say but bit my tongue. “What can I get you?”

“Low-fat strawberry milkshake.” The brunette looked down at her phone, and I got to work on preparing her drink. “And you’ve got a little something on your chin.”

Refusing to feel embarrassed, I took her money, then handed over her change and drink, before wiping the ice cream from my chin as she walked out the door.

So sue me. I liked to use my free time wisely. Thursdays were usually busy at the ice-cream parlor where I worked, but tonight, she was only our third customer.

Light footfalls had me hiding my snack behind a stack of napkins as Tim, my boss, appeared.

“You go home now, Pippa.” His slight German accent accentuated his words.

I glanced at the clock—eight forty-five p.m.—then shrugged. He didn’t need to tell me twice.

“Thanks, see you next week.” After removing my apron, I retrieved my bag from the staff room and clocked out.

“You forgot your ice cream.”

Busted. I pivoted halfway to the door, marching back with a sheepish smile on my face.

His moustache tilted with his own smile as he handed me the cup of melting ice cream. As far as employers go, I knew I was pretty damn lucky.

Thanking him, I spooned some into my mouth as I shoved the door open with my butt.

The evening yawned and blinked, creating a soft breeze that shook the leaves from the trees and sent them scattering to the ground. Fall had arrived, taking with it any traces of the unbearable summer heat. It was unusual for the weather to cool this early in Gray Springs, but I wasn’t going to complain.

Boob sweat was no fucking joke. I loved winter.

My phoned buzzed in my purse, which was hanging haphazardly from the crook of my arm. Pausing on the sidewalk, I ignored the few people skirting around me as I looked from my ice cream to my purse.

It stopped ringing, so I kept eating as I meandered down the sidewalk.

When it started again, I groaned loudly and tossed the leftover ice cream into a nearby trashcan before pulling it out.

Drew.

“What?” I answered.

“Sheesh, what’s up your ass?”

“Gross. Don’t say shit like that. But if you must know, I ditched something very important to answer this call.” I huffed out a breath, grumbling, “So spit it out already.”

“Ew, you’re the gross one. Keep it PG, yeah?”

“Screw you and keeping it PG. And I was talking about food.”

Drew chuckled, and the sound of a door closing met my ears as his voice lowered. “All right so, um, I need twenty bucks.”

My feet stopped moving once more. At this rate, a ten-minute walk would take me all night. “Twenty bucks?”

“Okay, thirty would be better.”

Eyes widening, I hissed into the phone, “No, get your own damn money.”

“Mom cut my allowance off this week.”

“Why?” I started walking again, smiling at a girl from my calculus class.

“Pip, please.”

“Nuh-uh. Tell me what you did first.”

After some silence, he said, “I hooked up with Cindy from next door.”

Again, I stopped walking. But this was feet-stopping business. “The reverend’s daughter?” I tried to ask incredulously, but anyone could hear the amusement in my voice.

“Can you say it any louder?”

“I can if you want.” I scoffed. “Though no one here gives a crap.” I cleared my throat, trying to sound more like the big sister I should be. “Totally not cool. Keep it in your damn pants.”

“Yeah, whatever. Anyway, it’s not like that. I like her. But Mom found out and thinks I’m trying to mess with her. She thinks she’s all sweet and innocent. I won’t get my allowance back till I leave her alone.” He lowered his voice again. “And she’s really not that innocent. Though”—he paused—“she is sweet.”

“Too much information, turd head.” Sighing, I resumed walking. “Look, I sympathize with your plight. I really do. But no can do, buddy. I only work a few days a week.”

“Pippa, it’s just twenty bucks. Come on.”

“Get a job.”

He groaned. “With hockey and school, Mom said it’s too much to take on.”

“Then tell her to reinstate your allowance.”

We were at a stalemate because we both knew she wouldn’t. Oh, she would eventually. Our mom was firm but underneath, she was buttery soft and always ended up caving. She just liked to make us sweat it out a little first.

“Look, I gotta go.” I climbed the steps to my dorm, heading inside. “You could always ask Dad, you know.”

He made a disbelieving sound, and I almost tripped on the stairs from laughing. “Don’t even, Pip.”

“Just saying, I know he’d love to hear from you.”

Because he would. Despite leaving us the way he did all those years ago, he was always eager to talk to us.

“Yeah, I’m good. Thanks for nothing.”

He hung up, and I sighed once more, dumping my phone into my bag.

Standing in the hall outside, I took a minute to collect myself.

Our dad loved us, and I’d never doubted that for a second. But he had problems, and he let them make the decisions for him. That was what I had a problem with. We still talked every now and then, and he lived nearby, but I hardly ever saw him. Though, not for his lack of trying.

I guess you could say I harbored some resentment over him leaving us, sure. But Drew, he rarely spoke to Dad. And when he did, it only made him shut down even more. He could hide his feelings, but they were starting to become evident in his actions. You only had to look closely.

I could hear my roommate, Daisy, listening to music on her phone on the other side of the door. I smiled, grateful that for at least this past week, I hadn’t come home to find her crying into her pillow or staring at the walls.

Coming to college and thinking you’re going to meet up with your childhood best friend, soul mate, and first love, only to find out he’d moved on would do that to a girl.

Daisy shut off the music as the door closed behind me, and I dumped my purse by my bed. “What’s crackin’? And if you say your heart, I will personally call Callum myself and ask him to take you out again.”

She’d finally gone out on a date last weekend, but the dude had yet to call her for a repeat.

Daisy scoffed, and I grabbed my pajamas and a fresh pair of panties. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Wouldn’t I?” I asked the drawer as I closed it, then turned around.

Her brown eyes narrowed, and I grinned, making her smile. She shook her head. “How was work?”

“Boring but delicious.”

Daisy’s laughter rang throughout the room, and my smile stretched wider at the sound. “You finish that paper yet?”

“Nope.” After kicking off my shoes and socks, I made my way to the door. “I’ve got until Monday, and it’s halfway done.”

She yawned, chucking her sketchpad down on her nightstand and flopping backward onto the bed. “I haven’t even started.”

That didn’t surprise me. I closed the door behind me and padded down the hall. It was quiet. Most girls followed the curfew rules, especially during the week. There were a few stragglers in the bathrooms, though, and I did my best to ignore them as I washed myself under the mediocre spray of the ancient showerhead.

Surprisingly, despite only having started at Gray Springs almost a month ago, I didn’t miss much about home. Sure, I missed my mom. Occasionally, I missed my snothead brother. But what I missed most of all? That would be a decent showerhead. One that I could remove, too.

Don’t judge. You didn’t know life until you experienced a removable showerhead.

“Renee, give it up already,” someone said as I shut the water off and grabbed my towel from the back of the stall door. “You know he likes playing with you.”

“And what, I should just watch as he moves on?” someone—I was guessing Renee—retorted.

The sink turned on then off, and I rubbed the towel over my body slowly, not wanting to listen, but … oh fine, I wanted to listen. Their fault for talking about it here. “He’s slept with how many people since you broke up?”

Renee made a scoffing sound. “Supposedly. This is different, though.”

The other girl was quiet for a moment, and I carefully wrapped the towel around my body. “How so? She’s probably just another girl to him.”

“Like you were?”

“Um, ouch. I told you I didn’t sleep with him.”

Footsteps sounded. “No, just sucked his dick, right?”

“You said you were over that. Besides, I was drunk as fuck.” I bit my lip to keep from laughing. “And Callum, he’s, you know, manipulative.”

Callum? The same guy Daisy went out with last weekend. Oh, how the plot thickens.

“I never said I was over it. I forgave you because you didn’t know any better and I have to share a dorm room with you. You may like him, but he only did it to get back at me.”

More silence as a snort bubbled in my throat. I crept forward, trying to see them through the crack of the door, but all I could see was brief flashes of hair. One of them was bottle blond. The other a redhead. I wondered which one was which until I heard the blonde chirp, “You can be such a bitch. Like that’s the only reason he’d want anything to do with me.”

The redhead laughed, a bitter sounding rasp as she walked to the door. “Well, you didn’t get anything out of it, did you?”

The blonde huffed and grumbled something that sounded like, “Fucking bitch,” under her breath before following her out.

Freedom at last. Not that I was sad to see them go. That was actually quite interesting.

I got dressed and brushed my teeth, pondering whether I should tell Daisy this newfound information.

Remembering the mess she’d been over Quinn, her ex, had me deciding against it, though. She was finally smiling again. And hell, Callum could be a douche, but I’d keep an eye on it. The main thing was, she was taking the right steps.

And after all she’d been through, I was just glad she was taking them.

I liked to consider myself a pretty laid-back guy.

Fuck it. Okay, so I most definitely wasn’t. But I said I liked to consider it because shit, that’d be nice. But some things—okay, a lot of things—got on my last fucking nerve.

Like when the Packers beat the Bears last weekend. Now that? Fuck. Yeah, that messed me up. Chalk it up to loving the game a bit too hard, but nevertheless, it happened.

And I’m still getting over it.

So when my dad said to me, “Chill. I can maybe talk to Coach, explain some things,” I almost lost my shit.

Chill. Wasn’t I already chill? I hadn’t gotten worked up. Yet. But in the eyes of my father, the guy who knew me best, I guess he had a point.

Still made my teeth grit and my fist clench around my phone as I shoved it between my shoulder and ear. At least let me almost explode before you tell me to chill. He should’ve known better.

“You can’t fix everything, Dad. I got myself into this mess, and I wanna get out of it the right way.”

His sigh was long and all-knowing. “Toby.”

“Dad,” I countered, flipping my teammate, Burrows, the bird as I slung my bag over my shoulder on my way out of the gym locker room.

“You might make it worse.”

“You could give me some credit. I’m trying to do the adult thing here.” I rummaged in my bag’s side pocket for my car keys. “You know, do stuff myself.”

“Did he say it was a definite no?”

“He hasn’t said anything yet. That’s what’s eating at me.”

I got into a brawl during the play-offs last season. Coach wasn’t sure whether I would keep my place on the team afterward, but I knew I was on probation. Which I hated but begrudgingly accepted.

Gray Springs had a strict no-bullshit policy. One strike and you’re out. Scholarship gone. Career potentially over.

I’d already heard the speech from Dad after it happened. Yes, I knew I wasn’t in high school anymore. Yes, I knew this was something to take seriously now. In all honesty, I just couldn’t help it.

I could get mad. Like anyone, I could get really fucking mad. But sometimes, well, it consumed me in a way that ruined things.

“Well, just wait it out.”

“I am.” I tried not to roll my eyes as I walked through the gym. “There isn’t much else you or I can do.”

“I could …”

“Dad,” I hissed. “I get it; you’re only trying to help. But fuck, I can’t let you bail me out every god damned time I mess up.”

He was quiet as I walked out into the late afternoon sunshine. “You played well in the preseason and last weekend.”

I knew I did. If he wasn’t working, Dad tried to attend as many games as he could. “Yeah, I did.” My chest ballooned with pride and a little more confidence.

“Right. Let’s hope he considers what a loss it’d be for the team then.” He let out an exasperated sound. “I’d say to call me if you need me, but I know you won’t.”

He was full of shit. I called my dad probably more than any other fucker on this campus called their parents. Well, besides Quinn. He was a straight-up mama’s boy, that one. I didn’t give him shit for it, though. If my mom had stuck around, I might’ve turned out the same. “I will. Just not about this.”

“Message received.” He laughed. “Stay out of trouble.”

Smiling, I hung up, tossing my phone and bag into the car.

“Yo, Hawthorne!” Paul’s voice boomed from behind me. I climbed into my Dodge as he jogged across the lot. “You hitting the party tonight?”

“The frat party?” I scrunched my nose, turning over the ignition. “Dunno. You?”

“Yeah. You should come. Burrows will buy.”

Taking a second, I thought about it. Some of the guys on the team were members, so it wouldn’t be completely shit. “Maybe.”

Paul tapped the roof when I moved to shut the door. “What’s the deal? I’m guessing you’re staying on the team?”

“For now, I suppose. He hasn’t really given me an answer, other than letting me play.”

“He’s a stubborn asshole like that.”

He was, but it worked. We’d already won both our preseason and starting game. Paul lifted his shirt, scratching at his stomach. “What?” I asked, wanting to get out of there. I needed something to eat, stat.

“You gonna see that Wendy chick again?”

Wendy? I tried to rack my brain for … oh. “The one I hooked up with at the start of the year?”

He shrugged. “Just thought I’d check.”

“You don’t need to worry about bro code with me, dude.” I laughed, shutting the door and winding the window down manually. Old car, loads of class, but the kind that made you work for it. “Have fun with that but watch your ass; she likes to keep her heels on.”

Paul grinned, flicking his hand at me before swaggering over to his truck.

I was still laughing as I pulled into the driveway of the townhouse I lived in just off campus. It had belonged to my uncle, who used to work as a history professor at Gray Springs. When he died, he left it to my dad in his will, who decided to keep it. At least until I finished college.

I lived here on my own freshman year, but this year, I offered for my friend and teammate Quinn to move in. I didn’t like the idea of cleaning up someone else’s mess, but I didn’t like the idea of only having me and my thoughts for company either. Quinn seemed like the safest option compared to my other friends, and so far, it was going all right.

After dumping my gear upstairs in my room, I ran back down to the kitchen, shaking off the laughter from my conversation with Paul. It wasn’t really all that funny. And I had nothing against getting serious with someone. I just … worried. Worried all the fucking time really. And I doubted anyone out there would be able to deal with that, or me, on a full-time basis.

In any case, I hadn’t found someone I wanted enough to saddle them with my bullshit.

Probably for the best, I surmised as I threw a packet of pasta onto the counter and filled a pot with water.

The fire was blazing even though it wasn’t cold enough for one. The beers were flowing, and the chicks were arriving in droves.

And I was bored as fuck.

“The guy looked like a fucking jackrabbit, pumping that shit like he was a born-again virgin,” Burrows cackled out, beer spilling over the rim of his cup.

“Get fucked. You serious?” Paul asked, leaning forward in his chair.

Burrows threw his arms out, spilling even more beer. “Yeah man, I swear to God. Let me show you.”

He dropped his cup on the grass and began dry humping the air like the idiot he was. After several thrusts, he made a strangled sound, then moaned in a high-pitched voice, “Oh, shit. That wasn’t supposed to happen yet.”

Everyone laughed, including myself.

“You were probably no different when you first got laid,” Quinn said from across the fire.

“True,” Burrows acquiesced. “I probably didn’t even last that long.” He shrugged, bending down to see if any of his beer was salvageable. “Difference is”—he straightened—“Gregson is a known motherfucking pussy chaser. Dude should have some serious stamina and at least a small shred of finesse.”

“The hell were you doing watching them anyway?” Quinn asked with a brow raised and a smirk on his face.

Burrows paused, then jerked a shoulder. “It was like a car wreck, man. Couldn’t look away. And hey, free porn is free porn.”

“You’re fucked,” I laughed out.

He jabbed a finger at me, swaggering over to likely rip on me next when Ray appeared behind him with a girl under each arm. One of them looked pissed as hell, trying to shove his arm off her. The other just looked confused.

“Ray, where the hell did you find them?” I asked, for the pure fact that they both looked like they were stunned stupid by their surroundings.

“They just walked on out here,” Ray replied. “My lucky night.”

Paul scoffed. “Yeah fucking right. Who are they?”

“Two freshman chicks,” Ray slurred. “I’m guessing so anyway. Haven’t seen these ones yet.”

The brunette finally shoved his arm off, and struck stupid, I couldn’t look away.

Paul asked what their names were, but I didn’t catch their responses. My eyes were too busy feasting on those long legs, the curves tastefully displayed beneath her dress, and the wild look in those green eyes.

Her. Who was she? Better yet, why the hell hadn’t I seen her before? Surely, I’d remember.

My dad said there are moments in your life that simply smack you upside the head. Sometimes, it was the universe trying to tell you something. Or sometimes, you’d just been a dipshit who’d walked into something. Or maybe, just maybe, you’d been hit with a dose of knowing.

Knowing, as he called it, was when you felt it. A shift in the air that sent a prickle over your skin or electricity dancing inside your gut.

Trust it, he’d said. It’s telling you something.

It was something I’d only ever experienced on the field, or that one time I slowed down on the highway near home for no reason, only to see a wreck just over the crest of the hill and manage to pull over in time.

Right now, I had no idea what those sensations were telling me, but fuck, I felt them. My stomach bubbled weirdly. As if I’d emptied a bottle of soda into it and it was still fizzing. My hands felt a little clammy around my beer, and I shivered as if the breeze that just washed over me was icy instead of cool.

It only intensified when her green eyes finally met mine. They flared slightly, and though it was dark out, I saw her chest rise with her quick intake of breath.

“Get your mouth off, Henderson. That blonde is the one Welsh has been trying to get with.”

Green eyes disconnected from mine at the sound of Ed’s voice.

“The fuck?” Paul spewed. “Welsh! Where are you, motherfucker?”

I didn’t know what I had to do to make it happen, but I knew I needed those eyes on me again. Knew it in a way that made my muscles tense as she surveyed the other guys and some of the girls around the fire.

“He’s inside. With Renee,” Quinn said.

Only when the blonde stepped forward did I finally look away. “Quinn?”

“Hey, Dais,” Quinn said, kind of sheepishly.

What the …? The gears in my head started turning.

“Oh, great. Let’s go, Daisy,” the brunette said, causing my gaze to land on her again. She tugged at Daisy’s hand, but the girl wouldn’t budge.

Huh. “You two know each other?” I asked, knowing full well they probably did.

“They used to,” the brunette said. “He’s now going out with her ex-best friend.” Daisy glared at her, and she shrugged. “Sorry. But it’s true.”

Taking the in, and because I’m nosy as fuck, I said, “No shit.” Looking over at Quinn, I whistled low. “You pull a swifty on this beautiful girl, Burnell?”

“Shut up, Toby. You don’t know shit.” Quinn’s jaw was clenched, but his eyes said it all. This was her. Despite having a girlfriend, the guy always looked like he was missing something.

I loved a good puzzle.

Chuckling, I swung my gaze back to the girls. “Oh, but I think I do. Want to join us, ladies?”

“No, we should probably go,” Daisy said, but my focus was stuck on her friend again.

“What’s your name?” I all but hurled the question at her.

“None of your concern.”

I smirked knowingly. Her voice said one thing while her eyes said another.

She grabbed Daisy and headed for the back door. I watched her hips sway slightly, ignoring the urge that had my blood pumping faster and whooshing in my ears. The urge to chase. To find out why this feeling disappeared when she stepped out of view.

Fuck me. I slouched back in my chair.

Maybe I needed to get laid. It’d been a week. Not that I couldn’t go longer than that, but I was unaccustomed to these feelings careening through me.

“She seems like a spitfire,” Burrows said, walking over to take a seat next to me with a fresh beer.

“Yeah,” I said absentmindedly; my eyes stuck on the last place I saw her.

My brain worked in messed-up ways, and I knew that. But I had to admit that this was weird even for me. I probably just really wanted to get beneath that dress of hers. Though I had a suspicion that one time might not be enough.

“I’m outta here.” Quinn got up, rubbing his face, then made a hasty exit to the door.

He seemed a little shell-shocked, and I kind of felt the same way. “Wait up, I’ll come with.”

“What the fuck? You guys are a bunch of pussies!” Ed yelled to our backs as we made our way inside.

The grass was rough and cool beneath my arms and legs. I moved them as if I were lying in the snow, trying to create a snow angel. It tickled, and I briefly wondered about all the bugs hiding below, deep in the earth, but I was too tired to move.

“What an adventure,” Daisy murmured next to me.

We’d gotten drunk in our dorm room, and somehow wound up here. Well, technically, we were at some party first. “Yup.”

Piercing blue eyes danced behind my closed lids. I opened them, and the blue dissipated at the memory of Callum walking downstairs with Renee. Maybe he was a douche then. “You okay about Callum?”

After only one date, I didn’t think she had any feelings for the guy, but still, it had to sting.

Daisy was slow to respond. “I think I’m too drunk to care.”

The clouds crept past the moon, and my limbs felt sluggish. I wondered how exactly we made the decision to come here, and when or how we might make it home. “Maybe we should sleep here.”

“I’m good with that,” Daisy said.

“I don’t think so.” A deep voice sounded from above us.

Quinn. Great. Just fucking great. No more vodka for us.

“What are you doing in the sky?” Daisy asked airily.

“Come on. I’ll take you home.”

That made me sit up. “Oh no, you won’t.” Shit, too fast. Everything twirled.

“Hawthorne!” Quinn called out. “You coming?”

When my vision righted itself, I looked up, colliding with blue once again. That Toby guy.

I blinked, thinking I might need a new brain and to most fucking definitely never touch vodka again.

Whose bright idea was that anyway?

Oh, right. Mine.

Toby extended his hand, and I scrunched my nose at it. “Yeah, no. I can get up myself, thank you.”

And I did, only for the world to spin again and my stupid legs to betray me, causing me to wobble. Hands landed on my waist to steady me. And call me drunk, crazy, or just plain stupid, but I swore my heart froze two seconds too long in my chest before resuming a fast staccato.

His whispered words drifted warmly over my cheek. “You’re welcome.”

My face was turning red. I knew it, yet I couldn’t help but look up.

My neck cricked back. The guy was tall, and the day’s stubble covered his strong, square jaw. His lips were thin, but his teeth were blinding white in the dark as he grinned down at me. Scowling, I met his gaze, ready to ream him out and push his hands off me. But it didn’t happen. His brows, dark brown and thick like his hair, lowered as he surveyed me like a hunter confused by its prey.

He wasn’t your typical type of sexy.

What he was, was beautiful. I’d heard the term stunning, but now I knew firsthand what it meant. For I was stunned, my next breath sitting deep within my lungs, refusing to budge.

“What’s your name?”

I blinked, almost wheezing as I asked, “Why does it matter?”

He chuckled, and the sound was all sorts of deep and delicious. “It matters a great deal.”

Swallowing harshly, I stepped back, tore my gaze from his, and collected Daisy from the asshole who was her ex-boyfriend.

Much to my dismay, they walked us back. How chivalrous of them, I snarked silently as they followed us. But I didn’t care enough to argue about it. My legs felt like two sticks of modeling clay, and I was looking forward to some serious one-on-one time with my pillow.

Toby’s gaze burning into my back had my fingers bunching. Tempted. I was so damn tempted, but I was too tired for sex. Plus, I wasn’t typically a one-night stand kind of girl. But for him, I knew I might just forget about that. So I sent him a glare over my shoulder.

“The keys,” Daisy said.

I snapped out of my thoughts as we stopped outside our dorm. “What?”

“When we went back in to get our shoes, I don’t know where I put them.”

Shit. I tried to think back to what we did.

We drank.

We laughed.

We had a staring contest.

Then we were out the door, only returning to grab shoes and cardigans.

We were real winners tonight.

“It’s late,” Toby said, and I watched as he peered inside the window on the door. “You could get in but not into your room. I’ve heard of people crashing on the couches in the common room when this happens.”

My stomach roiled. No way. I couldn’t do ancient, germ-infested couches. I wasn’t a prude, but I was, however, a little OCD about cleanliness.

“They can’t do that,” Quinn said. And despite him being an ass, I was grateful he saw the absurdity of the idea.

“Let’s go then,” Toby said with a shrug.

“What?” both Quinn and I asked in unison.

“They can stay at our place for one night. At least we know who’s jizzed on our couches.”

Again, my stomach roiled. Gurgling like it was a mini volcano. This drinking thing was such a bad idea. “I’m not sleeping on your semen-infested couch.” Feeling defiant and outraged by the mere suggestion, I stuck my hands on my hips, then wobbled slightly. Quinn grabbed my arm, and I shot him a thankful smile before remembering he was a heart destroyer.

Quinn sighed. “Well, shit.”

“Yep,” Daisy agreed, moving up the stairs to look inside. “Come on, it’s only a few hours until the sun comes up. We’ll survive.”

I grumbled, knowing we didn’t have much of a choice, and went to climb the steps.

“Wait,” Quinn said.

We turned around, and he ran a hand through his sandy blond hair. “Just stay at our place. He was joking. The couches are fine; his OCD wouldn’t let a crumb fall on them.” He jerked his thumb at Toby, who was leaning against the brick wall of the building. A knee bent, one foot resting over the bricks.

“Whatever,” Toby huffed, ducking his head a little.

My feet carried me closer to him. Observing him in his jeans and white band t-shirt with the slightly embarrassed look on his face, even in the dark, I started seeing him in a whole new, interesting light. “You’re a bit of a neat freak, are you?”

His head shot up, and he straightened from the wall, stepping closer. “I like to call it hygienic. Tidy.”

My breath quivered as I stared into his eyes. He stared back, a tiny smile playing on his lips.

“Pippa,” Daisy cut in. “What do you want to do?”

“Pippa?” Toby asked, not removing his eyes from mine. Damn it, Daisy. “Fuck, that would sound amazing rolling off my tongue when it’s between those beautiful legs of yours.”

Instantly, my thighs clenched, and the heat that’d settled into my stomach spread its burning flames, embers darting everywhere. I could even feel my face growing warm. Again.

Quinn laughed and said something, but the buzzing in my ears drowned it out. He slapped Toby on the back before he and Daisy started walking, but I was too distracted to chase after her.

When the shock of his words finally fled, I scowled. “So you’re a neat freak with a filthy mouth.”

Pieces of dark hair sprinkled onto his forehead as he dragged his hand through it lazily, thoughtfully, provokingly. As if he knew I was imagining my own hand touching it. “It’s about to get a whole lot filthier, I hope.”

He was serious. Trying for indifference, I scoffed, but he moved closer. I stepped back, skirting around him before he blocked me.

“Pippa.” He tsk’d. “Don’t tell me you’re not a fan of getting dirty in the best way possible. You’ll break my heart.”

Raising a brow, I retorted, “I’m not going to say any such thing.” Feeling bold, I stepped closer and whispered, “What I’m not a fan of, though, is a man who likes to talk a lot instead of doing a lot.”

I patted his chest, intending to walk away and catch up to Daisy, when his hand caught mine faster than lightning. “What about both?”

Inhaling a shaky breath, I stared at our hands on his chest. His was huge, warm, and dusted with dark hairs. Looking up, I asked what I already knew the answer to. “Both what?”

His smirk was adorable and sexy, making my heart flutter. Maybe I was drunker than I originally thought. “Can’t a guy talk a little while doing a lot?”

Oh, boy. I averted my gaze, pulling my hand free. “I’ve forgotten what we were even talking about,” I lied, walking down the sidewalk.

He didn’t walk beside me, but when I shot a quick look over my shoulder, he was smiling and clearly staring at my ass.

I felt his gaze as if I were standing too close to a bonfire. Part of me wanted to stop walking to see what would happen, how it would feel if he got too close again.

You don’t even know him. Keep walking.

It dawned on me then that we indeed didn’t know this guy. But Quinn did. And even though he’d broken her heart in a million different ways, Daisy obviously still trusted Quinn enough to follow him home.

The poor girl was still thinking with her hopeless heart, though. The thought had my pace speeding up until I caught up with Quinn and Daisy.

We left campus, crossing the street and walking up the driveway of a cream and white townhouse with two cars in the drive.

They walked inside, and Toby grabbed my hand at the door before I could do the same. “You don’t need to sleep on the couch. You can take my bed.”

I bit the inside of my cheek. “The couch will do just fine.”

His hand tightened around mine when I tried to walk into the house. A little tug pulled at my stomach, but I ignored it. “I didn’t mean for that.” His eyes softened, some of the intensity that filled them minutes ago fleeing. “You and Daisy can take my bed. It’s way more comfortable than the couch.”

Not knowing what to say because that was kind of sweet, I stumbled over my words. “Uh, that’s okay. Really, the couch is fine.”

Once again, I pulled my hand free of his, heading inside and finding Daisy already splayed out on the sectional in the dark living room.

The front door closed as I laid down, sinking into the soft cushions and suede fabric. Footfalls sounded on the stairs, and I squeezed my eyes closed, berating myself for the slight feeling of disappointment that came knocking on my chest.

I woke to the sound of doors opening and slamming closed, and feet slapping the tiles downstairs. I’m a light as fuck sleeper, and the yawn that howled out of me reminded me of how long it took me to fall asleep.

Hours.

My dick wouldn’t deflate, and I eventually had to rub one out. I felt a little sick for it but, ultimately, not enough not to do it.

Imagining all the wicked things I’d do to her body, imagining what she’d sound like when she came hard on my cock. Yeah, there was no way I was sleeping until I’d satiated the fantasies flying through my mind like a vivid dream.

Those plump lips and those playful green orbs. I wondered how they’d look as I slid myself between those lips. Would they hood? Or would they widen? Did she scream, or did she moan loudly? Maybe she made no sound at all. Fuck, maybe she was a heavy panter.

My dick was rock hard again, and I groaned, about to slide my hand inside my briefs when chatter from downstairs met my ears.

They were still here.

Getting up faster than I think I’d ever gotten out of bed before, I scooped my sweats up off the floor, hopping around the room as I shoved my legs inside.

After taking a long ass piss, I quickly brushed my teeth and grabbed a shirt, pulling it over my head as I ran downstairs.

Calm down, you fucker.

God damn. My heart was racing like crazy.

What if she didn’t want anything to do with the likes of me?

Slamming the brakes on my brain, I stopped outside the kitchen, looked at the coffee machine, and decided to make one. Look aloof and all that. Nothing out of the ordinary here.

Besides the drop-dead gorgeous spitfire residing in my living room, of course.

Once done, I took a sip, then cringed. Not only from it being too hot, but also because toothpaste and coffee are not a great combo.

Whatever.

I waltzed casually into the living room just as the reason for my semi raced out of it toward the downstairs bathroom.

Bedhead, smudged mascara, and her dress hanging haphazardly on her amazing figure … I didn’t care. I still wanted her. Perhaps even more, imagining that I could make her look much worse after I was through with her.

I turned to Daisy, raising a brow. “You guys got pretty hammered last night?”

She pinched her lips, looking paler than I remembered her being. Though, it was dark, and my attention was elsewhere. “Not really. We just don’t have much of a tolerance, I guess.”

I nodded, as that made sense. I didn’t know whether to be happy or disappointed they weren’t ones to frequent parties. Taking a seat on the arm of the couch, I said, “So that’d be a no to coffee?”

Daisy gave a faint smile. “No, thanks.”

It all came rushing back then, and I stared for a beat longer than what was probably appropriate, but damn. Where was Quinn? Dickhead was probably still sound asleep, all the while his ex-girlfriend sat here fidgeting on our couch. “So you’re the girl, hey.”

I was always too curious for my own damn good.

“I’m who?” she asked, averting her gaze.

“The one who makes him look like he’s in a faraway place sometimes,” I admitted because it was true. I knew it. Quinn knew it. Let’s all just know it already.

Before she could respond, the front door opened and slammed closed. Shit, didn’t I lock that? I scratched at my jaw, pondering over it as Alexis, Quinn’s girlfriend, strolled into the living room.

Evicted from my thoughts, I whistled slightly. “Well, damn. Didn’t predict this happening. At all.” I stood; he needed his ass down here, stat. “Burnell!” I called out, then muttered under my breath, my anxiety kicking up a notch as I placed my mug down and realized Pippa still hadn’t returned. Did she leave? There was a window in the bathroom …

“What are you doing here?” Alexis asked.

Fucking shit. “Daisy and her friend were at the party last night. They got locked out of their dorm, so they slept here on the couch.”

Alexis twisted her lips. “Her friend?”

Pippa returned. My back straightened.

“That’d be me.” She slid past Alexis before taking a seat on the couch.

Quinn finally arrived, pulling a shirt on. “Ah, hey …”

I zoned out, my attention on Pippa as her eyes bounced back and forth between Alexis and Quinn while she braided her hair. She didn’t have a tie, so she just let it flop down over one shoulder, resting over her breast in a brown, wavy rope.

I wanted to tug it. Feel it tickle my stomach as she slithered down my body to suck me off. Hell, I think I even wanted to sniff it. It was then that I realized yeah, I’d only just met her, but I was done making excuses. I had a new fixation, and for the first time since I could remember, I didn’t care if it was unhealthy or not.

Alexis said something that made me snort, and I apologized halfheartedly before grabbing my mug and moving over to take a seat next to Pippa.

She didn’t seem fazed by how close I was to her because her attention remained stuck on the others. Not gonna lie, I was mildly annoyed by that.

I wanted her fixated on me the way I was already fixated on her.

I snapped out of my muddled musings when Daisy said quietly, “I think we should go.”

No. No, no, no. No. “Seriously? And miss the fight?” Were they even fighting? I didn’t know. All I knew was that there was a good chance of it.

Pippa agreed with me, though. Thank God. “Yeah, just wait a minute.”

Daisy’s unease couldn’t be soothed, which was understandable. But I wasn’t ready to let Pippa walk out of my sight just yet. I put my mug on the coffee table. “I’ll walk you both back.”

They didn’t object, and we passed the tense couple, moving out into the midmorning sunshine.

Talk. I should’ve asked her something by now.

What do I ask her? Stay with me because I think I’m a little obsessed with you?

Yeah. That probably wouldn’t fly.

“Do they fight much?” Pippa asked as we left the house behind.

Shrugging, I tried to act aloof even though I felt anything but at the sound of her voice. “Not really,” I admitted. “Which is surprising. That chick is pretty high strung.”

Truth. I couldn’t deny that Alexis was hot as hell, but Quinn never seemed like the right fit for her. Now I understood why.

“He’s known her for a long time,” Daisy said, unable to hide the hint of sorrow in her voice.

Jesus. Poor chick. I didn’t know what to say, so I blurted the first thing that came to me. “So I guess he’d know how to handle her then.”

Pippa made a cute as fuck grunting sound. “She’s got a reason to be pissed, I guess. We aren’t just two random chicks sleeping on her boyfriend’s couch.”

She had that right. Some random chick, she was not.

Humming thoughtfully, I asked Daisy what I already knew to be true. “You and Quinn, you went out then?”

“A long time ago,” she said.

She and Pippa continued talking, but my mind turned to white noise, odd bits and pieces flying to the surface.

When we reached their dorm, I blinked.

Daisy thanked me, climbing the steps. I winked at her before turning to Pippa, who was biting her lip.

“Um, well, thanks.” She went to walk inside.

She couldn’t do that. Not yet. “Hey, come to our next game?”

Her brows scrunched, dark lashes curved below them. “You play football, too?” She looked like she was mentally kicking herself as her eyes surveyed me. I loved having them roam over me. “Of course, you do.”

“Is that a yes?” I moved closer, wanting to touch her and wondering if she’d let me.

As if knowing my intentions, she moved back a step. “It’s not a yes.”

“A maybe is as good as a yes, you know.”

She rolled those pretty eyes, and I grinned, making her shake her head. “I didn’t say maybe either.” She paused, then said, “I’ll think about it.”

“And me?”

Squinting, she laughed abruptly. Music to my fucking ears. “You come on a little strong. Has anyone ever told you that?”

That brought me up short, and I felt the smile wilt off my face. Right, I was acting like a dick. But I’d never done this shit before. Chicks either wanted me or I walked away.

What was I even doing?

Scratching the back of my head, I decided, fuck it. I’d made a big enough idiot out of myself. “Sorry. I guess I’ll see you round then.”

“Wait,” she called after me. I spun around, staring back at her with my stomach lurching.

Her hand was over her forehead, shielding her eyes from the sun. “I said I’d think about it.” I started to smile again, but she was quick to follow with, “But if I go, it’s not to watch you.”

She went inside, and I wasn’t sure if I should feel crushed or excited.

The professor droned on at the podium, and I stifled a yawn.

It was Wednesday, and I still felt hungover as fuck.

I was thinking about what to have for lunch when a person two rows down dropped his head, giving view to fiery red hair.

The girl from the bathroom. Renee.

College classes were weird. Some days, I thought I knew all the faces of the students who attended the same classes as me. And on others, I had to check I was in the right place.

My phone buzzed. It was on silent, but the vibration still had the dude sitting in front of me turning his head. I shrugged, pointing at the guy two seats over from me with my pen, as if to say, “Right? So annoying.”

He glared at that guy instead, who didn’t even notice. He was staring too intently at the professor who was now frantically moving from side to side of the electronic whiteboard, tapping at the equations with his ruler.

Biting back a laugh, I quickly reached down and powered my phone off, then tried to take more notes before the lesson ended.

As hard as I tried to stay rooted in the present, my mind curled backward.

The look on Toby’s face when I left him standing at the foot of the stairs outside my dorm had me puzzled. I didn’t want to be some notch on a guy’s bedpost. I’d done that before. I’d had boyfriends in high school, but nothing that ever lasted very long.

My most serious boyfriend, Sean, was the one who got the goods from me in the end. And even though I didn’t think I was in love with the guy, I liked him enough to feel fucking awful when he ended things.

So I kind of slept with some random guy at a party the first week of summer break before college. It didn’t make me feel better. And I realized, after waking up to an empty bed and an awkward conversation in the dude’s kitchen, it wasn’t for me.

I needed something that mattered, that set my heart racing like I’d been forced to run to the donut store before it closed.

I didn’t want mediocre, but looking at Daisy, at the way her expression warped and waned whenever she thought of Quinn, I had to wonder if I was crazy for wanting something that real too.

Because, just as most people who hadn’t had a taste of something rare and exquisite wanted, I wanted to fall in love someday. To ignore the consequences and let go when the right person came along.

The problem was, I didn’t know if a certain someone with a pair of imploring blue eyes was someone I should even consider.

He seemed like he was in the market for something I wasn’t looking to sell. Though his expressions, his mannerisms all told me something different. His confidence was a swelling balloon, inflating to dangerous levels until the tiniest jab sent air rushing out, leaving him to frantically grasp what was left with a reformed smile.

“All right, don’t forget, assignments are due next week. Don’t be late and don’t hesitate.” The professor chuckled at his own attempt at a joke. He was an oddball, old Schmidty.

I packed away my pen and notebook, shouldering my bag as I slid out of the row and moved up the stairs. Pausing at the door, I pulled my phone out and switched it on, finding a missed call from my dad.

The sound of giggling had my head rising, and someone nudged by me rather roughly. Fair enough, I was standing in the doorway like a noob but shit, calm down.

Walking outside the math building, I discovered the giggling culprit on the stairs with none other than Toby.

For some unknown reason, I paused, the hand holding my phone dropping to my side as I watched the girl reach out and playfully smack at his chest.

Tiny flames sailed down my spine at the sight, and I realized I was the one who needed to calm down. God, I didn’t even know if I liked the guy. Barely knew him, really. So I kept walking, hoping he didn’t notice me.

That hope died, but it was wrong to have in the first place, seeing as I wanted him to notice me. To follow me, to place his hand on my arm like he was, and to spin me around on the pebbled path. “Hey.”

“Hi,” I said, rather dumbly, trying to avoid his gaze.

“Been thinking of my offer?”

His hand fell from my arm, and I scuffed my ballet flat over the white pebbles. “Not really.”

“I don’t believe you,” he said quietly, and I looked up then. Right up into the sea blue of his eyes. “You see, I’ve been doing some thinking myself.”

Stunned, I merely blinked in response.

Chuckling huskily, he carried on, “I think …” He stepped closer. Close enough for me to get a whiff of his cologne, the aroma like spiced butter. “You’ve been thinking about it and more.”

“And more?” I laughed. “More what?”

Reaching out, he tucked some hair behind my ear, and surprisingly, I stood still and let him. His touch was feather soft, a screaming contradiction to the turbulent intensity of his eyes as he stared down at me. “You’ve been thinking about me. Probably just as much as I’ve been thinking about you.”

My breath was fleeting, and I couldn’t catch it as I tried to respond.

He didn’t give me a chance. “Come to a party tomorrow night. Just have a few drinks with me.”

“I’m not going out with you.”

“Who said anything about that?” He sank his hands into his pockets. “You can even show up yourself, but I’ll be there, and I’d like it if you were too.”

“Why do you want to see me again?” I couldn’t understand it; he didn’t know a thing about me.

His expression turned blank. “I’ve got no fucking idea. I just do.”

My phone rang in my palm, startling me. After winking, he gestured to it. “You get that. I’ll see you tomorrow. The street behind my place, number three.”

He strode away, and I stared after him, lifting my phone and answering the call without even checking who it was.

“Hey, baby girl.”

Fuck on a shit sundae.

“Hi, Dad.” I started walking toward the cafeteria, wanting a quick bite before my next class.

“I didn’t know if you’d be in class or not, but I thought I’d try to check in anyway.” He sounded wary as if he didn’t know what to say. That made two of us.

“Yeah,” I said croakily, then cleared my throat. “Just finished. Um, how are you?”

“Good, good,” he was quick to answer. There was a pause, and then his voice lowered. “Miss you guys.”

“We know.”

We did know. But we’d heard less from him since he met his new girlfriend in therapy. Felicity was like Voldemort in our house. You never whispered her name. My mom was liable to bake herself into a frenzy or worse, break out the wine and her Dirty Dancing DVD.

“Felicity has mentioned quite a few times that she’d like to meet you guys soon, but ah …” He coughed a little, and I wondered if he was smoking again. He had on and off when we were kids. “I didn’t know whether you guys would be okay with that or not.”

“That’s a definite no.” He was quiet then, and I sighed. “Look, Dad. I’m happy you’re doing well. But the rest of us? We’re still adjusting. It’s probably just not a smart idea right now.”

“Yeah, I figured.” A sigh left him. “Drew won’t even answer my calls lately.”

Drew used to, albeit grudgingly. He wanted to speak to our dad more than he was mad at him, but since we heard about Felicity, that started to change somewhat. When asked, he said he didn’t care. But I knew he did.

“Give him some time.” What else could I say? It wasn’t up to me to fix Dad’s mess for him. “I gotta go, kay? Take care.”

I hung up before he could reply, stuffing my phone into my bag and walking by a rowdy bunch of girls hanging outside the cafeteria.

Between Toby and that phone call, I needed more than a bite to eat.

I wanted a dozen donuts followed by a damn nap.

I arrived at practice fifteen minutes earlier than I needed to; after all, I wasn’t in the position to be flaking in any way. But it was clear I was still one of the last to show up.

Coach walked in at five to six, rubbing one eye and glaring at his clipboard with the other. “Hawthorne, a quick word?”

The blood in my veins froze, making my movements feel stiff, but I managed to close my locker. The room went silent, no one giving me shit. They knew the severity of the situation and wisely didn’t say a word.

The morning air was crisp, the grass still covered in dew as I followed Coach outside the gym.

“Right. I didn’t want to have to do this here, but I know how you can be.” At my narrowed brows, he shook his head. “Don’t give me that baloney. If I’d called you into my office, you might not have shown, or you’d come in tearing shit up.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence.” It stung. Mainly because he was probably right.

He gave me a look that said to shut up. My mouth snapped closed.

“I’m not gonna pussyfoot around it, so I’ll just tell it to you straight. Our offense would take a hit without you. You’ve been playing well, showing up, and doing the right thing.” A sigh left him as he studied me a beat. “But for how long? How long until something happens that sends you careening into another player’s fist?”

Swallowing, I shifted on the grass. “I’ve got it under control. I swear.”

He scrutinized me for a minute that seemed to drag into five. “You taking meds?”

Surprised, I stepped back. “What?”

“You heard me, boy. Are you taking any damn meds?”

I didn’t know what the right answer here would be, so I chose to go with honesty. “No.”

The expression on his face didn’t change as he asked, “Why?”

Why? How the hell could you explain to someone more than twice your age that you just didn’t want to without sounding like an immature, stubborn brat? That you didn’t like the way they made you feel, the way they affected everything? It seemed like any of those responses wouldn’t be good enough, so I asked something else. “Am I staying?”

The silence that followed pierced my ears; every limb in my body tense and preparing for some invisible threat.

“That’s up to you.” He lowered his voice. “We’ve all got demons, boy; some of us are just better at putting a damn leash on them. Find a way to control them, or you’re out.”

Relief rained over me, loosening my muscles and warming my blood. “I’m good. I’ll keep it together.”

Seemingly appeased—for now—he nodded. “Hit the weights. But be warned, Hawthorne. If I don’t think you’re in any state to play, you will be benched. Can you deal with that?”

I didn’t know if I could, but it seemed stupid to admit that, so I said, “Yeah, I get it.”

Back inside the gym, Quinn spotted me, asking quietly under his breath, “All good?” as Coach barked at Ed.

It wasn’t, not exactly. But it was the best I could hope for after the stunt I pulled at the play-offs. “All good.”

Laughter and music warred together, the air stale and suffocating. This place always smelled like moldy ass.

Why the hell didn’t they clean it?

Was that fucking cheese sitting on the counter? Surrounded by beer kegs and potato chips. Who leaves a block of fucking cheddar cheese out on the counter unwrapped?

I poked it quickly. Warm. Fuck me. What was wrong with some people?

I knew enough about myself to know it wasn’t the cheese that was bothering me, but that was still gross.

Rinsing my finger under the tap, I eyed the dirty dishes and inwardly cringed. Not my fucking problem.

Exhaustion pulled at the fraying layers of my mind.

Did Coach hate me? Maybe he just worried in his own hard-ass kind of way, but I didn’t know what to make of it.

Benched. I didn’t want to get benched. It was the equivalent of getting put in the damn naughty corner in preschool, in my opinion.

Perhaps he had it in for me.

My mother’s face flashed behind my eyes. She’d put me in the naughty corner a few times.

My dad always got me out. She’d called him too soft, saying I needed to know when I did something wrong.

I was eight.

And I think we had a cat. Sponge. Where did Sponge go?

No, wait. It wasn’t our cat. It belonged to the neighbors.

Mike walked into the kitchen and surveyed the drinks, then walked back out empty-handed. Mike wouldn’t get benched. Even if he did, he’d take it like the real man he thought he was. Fucking Goody-Two-Shoes. Who did he think he was anyway?

“Toby, hey.”

I grunted, ignoring whoever said that.

“Toby?”

I held up a hand because I was fucking busy, and she scoffed, “Whatever.”

Whoever she was walked away. Fuck, now I’d lost my train of thought.

What was I thinking? What am I thinking?

Frustration curled my fingers, sending vibrations up my arms as my fists clenched tightly.

I should go home. Yeah, I’m going home. I’m fucking tired anyway.

The music started back up. I raised my heavy head from where I’d been staring at the gray tiles and shook it.

Spying a bag of potato chips, I decided I was hungry. I found an unopened one and tugged it open, shoving a handful into my mouth and crunching down.

I had a headache the size of this damn house. I shouldn’t be drinking. Glancing around the kitchen, I skirted by a couple who bounced into the fridge.

Where are the painkillers?

“Yo, Tobester,” Ray slurred, punching me in the arm. “Fucking great run last weekend, dude.”

“Call me Tobester one more time, Ray, and I swear to God—”

“Hey,” Pippa said.

My frustration abated some as I glanced over at her, the fog clouding my mind dissipating somewhat.

Christ, I’d almost forgotten about inviting her here tonight, and I was about to leave. I wanted to leave. Maybe she’d come with me.

“Hey,” I said, trying to remember what I’d worn. Jeans, black. T-shirt, gray. Boots. Wait, what briefs had I put on? I always wore briefs. I fucking hated free balling.

Pippa’s smile distracted me. She actually smiled at me. Displaying straight white teeth and a new glint in her eye. God, she was beautiful.

“What are you doing?” I blurted without thought.

Her smile dropped, and her friend Daisy appeared behind her. “You asked me to come.”

“I know,” I said.

Her frown was adorable, but I wanted to see her smile again. “You’re seriously beautiful.”

A shocked burst of laughter flew out of her. “Are you already drunk?”

I fucking wished. “Nah.” I sniffed, thinking I needed to find a way to get this back on track. I couldn’t go home yet, not when she was here. “Wanna come sit out back?”

She shrugged, and I followed her and Daisy outside.

Cynthia from my English lit class sidled up to me as I was walking over to grab the girls a beer. “Hey, did you take notes today?”

What kind of fucking question was that? “I did.”

I looked over at her when she said nothing, and her lips pursed as she pulled her blond hair over her shoulder, displaying fake tanned skin. I fucked her last year at a party right before Christmas break. Did she want another go? I glanced over at Pippa, found her watching me, and decided that although I wouldn’t touch Cynthia again, I wanted to play a little.

Moving closer, I let my arm brush Cynthia’s and heard her breath catch. “Beer?” I offered.

“Sure,” she practically whispered.

I gave her one of the already poured cups, her fingers caressing mine as she took her time taking it from me. Meeting my gaze with a sly smile, she said, “Thanks.”

“No worries,” I mumbled, suddenly losing my taste for being here again.

Warm breath smacked into my ear as she stood on her toes and whispered, “We could go upstairs to drink these?”

Clearing my throat, I forced out a light chuckle. “Not tonight, sweetheart.”

After pouring another beer, I lifted it in goodbye before taking them over to where the girls were sitting. I handed Pippa hers, unable to meet her gaze after that little stunt.

Knowing I really shouldn’t drink any more, I offered the other one to Daisy. “Beer?”

Her tone was dry as she muttered, “Why not?”

Didn’t know what was up her butt, but her tone made me laugh a little as I took a seat beside Pippa.

Burnell sat across the fire pit with Alexis sprawled all over him like a badly knitted blanket. That was probably what was eating at Daisy.

Sighing, I slouched back in my chair, my head still pounding. I hated days like today.

One thing. One thing was all it took to set my mind into a chaotic free fall. And no matter how hard I tried, I just couldn’t control it or set it right again a lot of the time.

Pippa’s presence next to me felt soothing. Without even touching her, I managed to relax a little. After some time, she made a huffing sound, and I glanced over in time to see her look away from me. Had I pissed her off? Her hair looked nice like that. It was out, but it looked like she hadn’t done anything to it. The brown waves spilled over her shoulders and back, drawing my gaze to her skin.

“You really are beautiful,” I said more to myself than to her.

“So you said.” She sighed, then took a sip of her beer. I continued to study her; the way her throat bobbed when she took a huge sip and how her eyes fluttered closed briefly.

Christ. My dick was so hard.

“Hawthorne, get over here,” Burrows said, walking outside with a case of beer. Grateful for the opportunity to calm the situation in my pants, I got up to help him put them in the cooler near the keg.

Burrows asked me about what Coach had said, and I gave him a vague answer. Not like he gave a shit anyway.

“Man, we were betting you’d get into it with the fullback from Wintergreen.”

“Nope. On my best behavior now.” I glanced around the yard in search of Pippa. She was staring at me, and my toes curled inside my socks.

I took a step toward her when Burrows continued. “If any dickhead needs a punch to the face, it’s that one. I swear he’s fucking the ref or some bullshit. That penalty was a damn joke.”

“What?” I coughed.

He cracked a beer open before saying, “Oh, yeah. Total scumbag. His dad’s loaded, though, so even if he’s not sucking him off during halftime, Daddy’s paying someone off.”

“Yeah, right.” I highly doubted that was the case but chose to humor him as I watched Pippa talk to some girl.

Burrows crapped on about the game tomorrow night, and the pounding in my head only intensified. For once, I didn’t want to talk about football. My skin itched. The music wasn’t nearly as loud out here as it was inside, but combined with the voices and the laughter, it was starting to make my ears ring.

I just wanted out of there.

“Look man, I’m out. Tired as hell.”

“You gonna be all right to play tomorrow?” His raised eyebrow told me he was either concerned or looking to rile me up.

“Don’t ask stupid questions.” I forced a grin. “Later.” I made my way back over to where I’d left Pippa, thinking of some bullshit excuse to tell her for why I was bailing. Ideally, I’d love it if she came with me, but I knew the chances of that happening were slim to none.

I pulled up short halfway across the yard when I realized she wasn’t there.

Burnell came staggering out from the side of the house, rubbing his head and looking dazed. “You seen Pippa?”

He glanced at me, then looked back at where he’d come from. “I think she and Daisy just left.”

Shit.

“I don’t know if I should,” I said, but I was already looking for something to wear.

“You’ve never been to a game, though; you might like it.”

A snort escaped me. “Doubtful. Sports and me are like milk and juice.” I turned and jabbed my brush at Daisy. “We don’t play nice together.”

“You get a stomachache too?”

“Duh.”

Daisy shoved her boots on, then took her glasses off to clean the lenses with the hem of her dress. “Makes sense when you think about it.”

This girl. I loved her the minute I saw her standing in the corner of our dorm room with an awkward smile on her face. She was my person. I knew it the same day I’d met her, but good Lord, she could be sillier than me. And that was saying something.

“Anyway.” I sighed, chucking my brush onto my dresser and tugging an orange dress off the hanger. Team spirit and all. “If I fall asleep, I’m blaming you.”

“You won’t fall asleep.” Daisy grabbed her purse, chucking her phone inside it. “Too noisy.”

Smiling, I did up the buttons resting over my cleavage. Couldn’t give too much away. “Ready?”

“Yeah,” she said, looking around the room. “Let’s do this before I change my mind.”

It was obvious something had happened between her and Quinn at the party last night. She’d decided not to talk, though, and I didn’t push it. I didn’t feel like talking about it, either. My own dilemma, that is. If you could even call it that. Or him that, rather.

Way to get a girl interested, then drop her like a hot tamale.

“Why are we going again?” I asked, grabbing my own purse as we made our way to the door.

“Nothing better to do, and besides, I’m hungry.”

I knew she wanted to see Quinn but let it go. I was the friend, not the parent.

We grabbed some snacks from the cafeteria before making our way to the stadium on the far side of campus. Daisy said buying food there would cost a fortune. And I lived week to week, so I appreciated cheap.

Cars overflowed the parking lot, littering the streets in and outside campus. A few people were standing around talking while stragglers hurried inside. “Are we late?” I asked, just as a huge round of cheering ensued.

“Umm,” Daisy said. “Yeah, I think so.”

I shrugged, not really caring too much in this instance. We made our way past the ticket booths and up the stairs to our seats in the middle of the stands.

The noise was deafening. Each time someone scored a touchdown, I braced myself, waiting for the assholes behind us to lose their shit.

“I can’t see them,” Daisy said. “Who’s who?”

The Tomahawks looked small from our vantage point. Like little garden gnomes dressed in burnt orange and gray with helmets on. I found Quinn a moment later, wincing as he went down. “That was Quinn.”

“What?” Daisy squinted at the illuminated field. “Oh.”

I didn’t know which position Toby played, but I found him after halftime, thanks to the removal of his helmet for a minute. Number eleven.

I finished my soda, popping some mints into my mouth afterward.

My eyes watered at the burn, but I sucked anyway before chucking a few more in. Something about that kind of freshness just appealed to me. Weird, yes. I didn’t really care, though. As far as addictions go, it could be worse.

Afterward, we waited for everyone else to file out, then followed, ending up in the parking lot. Daisy wanted to wait for Callum since he was the one who’d given her tickets. I wished we didn’t have to.

The reason for that walked out the doors a few minutes later, shaking his damp hair and tossing his water bottle into his bag before slinging it over his shoulder. His hair looked black when it was wet, which only made his eyes glow more severely. It felt like the wind had been knocked out of me when they landed on me.

Nerves erupted. After the way he’d acted the night before, I didn’t quite know what to expect, and that concerned me more than it excited me.

A huge, devious grin overtook his face, making my heart jolt. Stopping right in front of me, he wrapped a thick finger around a strand of my hair and tugged. “Hey, Pip.” Flutters assaulted my stomach, but I was too damn confused to give in to the feeling. “Feel like putting me out of my misery?”

So maybe my first thoughts of him were correct after all. I felt my shoulders droop. Trying to play it off, I rolled my eyes. “Not tonight. And don’t call me Pip.”

His bottom lip disappeared inside his mouth, eyes studying mine. “Ah, another night then?”

Callum approached Daisy, and Toby stepped forward, caging me against the car behind me.

“Nice dress,” he commented with a smile that’d melt my baby blue lace panties. But I averted my gaze, staring at a bead of water clinging to the tan skin of his neck. “I’ve pissed you off.”

“Perceptive,” I deadpanned, looking up again.

Dark brows folded over his eyes. “I’m sorry.” His voice was soft, sincere. “I honestly didn’t mean to. Where’d you go last night?”

“Home.” I tried to move away, but it was impossible. He was swallowing up all my oxygen, and I was worried that if I didn’t stop him, I’d suffocate in ways I never knew existed.

He let go of my hair, placing a hand on my waist.

Humming, he surveyed my chest, eyes skating up slowly, so slowly, to meet mine. “I was worried.”

“It didn’t seem like it.” I couldn’t help my catty tone, not at the memory of that girl’s lips near his ear and her hand touching his. It bothered me, and I couldn’t hide that, so I didn’t even try.

“Would you forgive me if I told you I was having a really, really shitty day yesterday?” His lips rubbed together, and I didn’t know where to direct my eyes. To his or let them roam the vast beauty of his face.

“I don’t know,” I whispered.

Leaning in, he said quietly, “If it happens again, I give you my blessing to curse me out, leave, and maybe even slap me, but …”

“But?” I breathed, unable to form coherent thoughts, let alone sentences, with his scent invading my nostrils and his warmth colliding with mine.

“But I’ll need your number, so that way, when I need to make it up to you, I can hound you with sexts, but mainly …”

“Mainly?” Oh, fucking hell. I was doomed.

“Mainly so I know you’re okay.”

Snap, crackle, and fucking pop. I melted into the cool metal of the car behind me, speechless.

“Do we have a deal?” He was already tugging my purse from my shoulder and fishing my phone out before I could protest.

But I didn’t want to. He entered his number, calling himself before putting my phone away and giving my purse back.

“I never said we had a deal.” I took my purse and slung it back over my shoulder.

He smirked, jabbing me in the cheek and making me laugh. “But you didn’t say we didn’t, either.”

“I’m going to head home,” Daisy cut in. “You coming?”

I looked over at Daisy, who was now alone, then back at Toby and nodded. “Later, Tobes.”

I slid by him, linking my arm through Daisy’s.

“Hey! You can’t call me that.”

Smiling over my shoulder, I called out, “Then don’t call me Pip!”

Back in our dorm, I listened to Daisy snoring softly. Unsure of what it was exactly that kept me up longer than usual.

Perhaps, it was the knowledge he had my number. Well, I had his too. I could text him. But looking back on our first meetings, I was struggling to piece it all together, to decide what to do.

To piece him together.

Never mind that he was kind of intense. That didn’t deter me. It was the hot and cold behavior that wasn’t charming me at all. Really, he could’ve just had a bad day. We were all human, right? No matter how much you wanted something or someone, a shitty day was a shitty day.

But despite all that, something inside me lurched in protest when I thought of not giving him a chance.

Maybe it was a gut feeling, or maybe it was a warning.

Or perhaps, a feeling of regret over something that hadn’t even happened yet.

Either way, I knew I hadn’t seen the last of Toby.

Which made me fall asleep with a smile on my face like some sort of cheeseball.

Monday arrived without a peep from Toby.

As I made plans to leave the library, I repeatedly told myself to stop thinking about it, to forget about the whole crazy thing, and that I was stupid for wasting time thinking and worr—

My phone pinged with a text.

Toby: Hey …

Before I could open and read it, a call came through.

I almost screamed with frustration, barely concealing it as I hit answer. “Yes, Mother?”

“Well, hello to you too. What’s the weather like there?”

I shouldered my bag and lumbered down the steps to the bottom level. “Probably not much different from what it is at home.”

Willowmina, my hometown, was small compared to Gray Springs and the surrounding county. The drive here took just under three hours. I wanted out, but I didn’t want too far out. Mom still had a hard time wondering why I didn’t plan bigger. She forgot that if I had gone someplace farther away, she would’ve likely had a conniption.

“Your sass knows no bounds.” She paused, and I heard her swallow. Walking by the scowling librarian, I pulled the phone away from my ear and glanced at the time. It was just after four, so she was having her late afternoon tea. “Anyway, I called for a reason, you know.”

“What reason other than you love me could there be?” I added an extra dose of sugar to my voice, making her laugh. Which in turn made me smile. That is, until I saw the jet black haired girl walk inside the library.

Alexis. The boyfriend-stealing shithead. Meeting her icy gaze, I flipped her off with a huge smile and walked past, not giving a damn about the look of outrage on her face. Call me immature, I didn’t care. She deserved more than that.

“What are you doing?” my mother asked with her knowing tone.

Sixth fucking sense, I swear. “Ah, walking out of the library.”

She hummed. “You’re being careful? It’ll start getting dark earlier soon. You’ll need to be more organized and head indoors beforehand.”

The breeze whipped some of my hair into my face, causing several strands to stick to my lip balm. I sputtered and blew a breath out, knocking them away. “Yeah, I heard a new student is actually a mafia boss’s son.” She coughed, and I cringed. “Too far?”

“Don’t play an old woman like that.”

I scoffed. “You’re not old. Don’t even start that again.”

“Oh, but I am,” she cried, and I just knew she was staring at her reflection somewhere in the house, looking for any gray hairs she hadn’t covered with dye. “I’ll be forty-three next spring.”

“Yeah, ancient.” I refrained from rolling my eyes, walking down the path toward my dorm.

“Pippa,” she scolded, but she was laughing. “I’ll swat your behind next time I see you, and don’t you even try to turn that into something sexual. Christ,” she muttered. “No wonder I’ve got gray hair. The sass I put up with.”

“I love you, too. Anyway, better go and feed myself before I waste away to nothing.”

Her gasp was loud. “Do I need to come down there?”

Yes, I wanted to say. I missed my mom like crazy. “No, you know I like food too much to let such a thing happen.”

“Do you need money? That’s why I called. I’ll put some in your account next week. You’ll need to buy some more winter clothes.”

“I’m fine, Mom.” I stopped at the vending machine in the common room, digging around in my purse for change. “I have more than enough clothes.”

Her hum of disapproval had me imagining her pursed lips. I didn’t need any, though. And although we weren’t struggling financially, my mom didn’t like taking money from my dad if she didn’t have to. He sent checks, tried to deposit the money into her account, and had even showed up with it a few times, which didn’t end well. She rarely ever accepted.

In case it wasn’t obvious, Mom hadn’t let go, but I couldn’t blame her. Dad was the love of her life, and they’d been together since college. The strange thing was, we all knew he hadn’t quite let go either.

Instead, he simply decided to remove himself.

We said goodbye, and I took my soda and chips upstairs to our room. Setting up camp on my bed with my laptop, I got comfortable to watch reruns of Gilmore Girls.

The ringing of my phone sent my head flying up, causing my arm to fling the leftover chip bag to the floor. Fuck a duck.

Glancing over at Daisy’s bed, I saw she was sound asleep with her sketchpad lying open beside her. I switched on the lamp, scanning the floor and bed for crumbs and sweeping them up. No one liked to step on crumbs or sleep on them, thank you very much.

My phone rang again, and I jumped, quickly hitting answer to keep from waking Daisy.

“Hello?” I whisper-hissed, causing Daisy to mumble something in her sleep.

“I was starting to wonder if I had the right number.”

Toby.

It was only then I remembered the unread text message he’d sent earlier. “Hang on a sec.”

Dumping the chip bag in the trash, I quickly padded out into the hall. “Sorry. Christ, what time is it?”

I went to check my phone when he said, “Just after ten. Were you asleep?”

“I must’ve passed out by accident.” I sniffed my shirt, realizing I still hadn’t even showered. Ugh.

Toby was silent for a few seconds. “You didn’t get my message?”

Sinking to the floor, I leaned back against the wall and pulled my knees to my chest. “I did, but my mom called at the same time it came through.”

“So you forgot about me then,” he said with a soft laugh, but my brows furrowed, sensing he was maybe a little butt-hurt over it.

“I did but not on purpose.” Pulling the phone away from my ear, I opened the text message. “All it says is, Hey, what’s doing?” I told him, returning the phone to my ear.

“Yeah,” he cleared his throat. “So?”

“What’s doing?” I laughed, then slapped a hand over my mouth to smother it as I glanced down the dark, silent hallway.

He chuckled. “Okay, so I’m a little out of practice with this stuff.”

That intrigued me. “How so?”

Silence again, then, “Just … I don’t know. I can’t explain it without making myself sound like a dick.”

I rolled my eyes. “Right. You normally just text to say, hey, wanna fuck?”

A groan left him, traveling into my ear and sweeping through my body to hit me between the legs. “Did you want to?”

Laughing at his audacity, I said, “I like the way you don’t beat around the bush.”

“I’m a straight shooter. My aim is impeccable.” His voice turned huskier. “It’d honestly make my whole year to cover those tits with my—”

“Okay, buddy. Slow it down.” My cheeks were burning, my thighs clenching.

“Sorry. I’m not well versed in the romance department, but I’m hoping you’ll at least give me a trial.”

“A trial?”

“Yes,” he said.

“I don’t want romance. I just want someone to open the salsa jar and to maybe lift my bed high enough for me to vacuum beneath it.”

I could’ve swore he whined. “Are you sure you don’t want to come over?”

Sucking back laughter, I said, “I’m sure.”

“We don’t have to fuck. We can just hang out.”

“It’s after ten, like you said.” I bit my lip, staring down at the old carpet. “I need to sleep soon.”

“Sleep here.”

Wow. This guy. “I find it hard to believe that you’d only want to sleep.”

“Believe it. I just … I want to see you.”

Temptation warred with caution. “You don’t even know me.”

“I know you like mints. I know you like cleanliness. You cringe whenever you drink beer. Your hair looks better naturally wavy. You’re hesitant to trust. You’re a loyal friend, and you’re beautiful as fuck. I also know you’re interested in me, too.”

I was kind of stunned. Not to mention flattered. “Is that what this is? You’re just curious about me? Because let me assure you, I’m not that exciting. I do word searches and crosswords for fun.”

“I beg to differ.” His laugh was delicious, wicked, and genuine. “And I think I bypassed curious the night I met you.”

I had to admit, I didn’t see him coming, or the way he was making me feel. And although his behavior and weird fascination with bedding me was … odd, he was right. I was interested in him, too. So I took advantage of what he was offering. “Well, Toby. What position do you play?”

“Wide receiver.”

“Middle name?”

“Liam.”

“Favorite movie?”

“Too many to name.”

With a light guffaw, I said, “Cop-out. Okay, where are you from?”

“Glibson.”

Close by then. “How often do you speak to your mom?” My own said you could tell a lot about a guy by the relationship they had with their parents.

“Never,” he deadpanned.

Shit. Sensitive topic barricade up. “Um, your dad then?”

“At least twice a week.”

I liked that. “Favorite color?”

Laughter and rustling met my ears. “Okay, as much as I love that you’re proving me right. Let’s leave some things a mystery.”

“Why?” I asked. “I like to be aware of things. All the things. It’s just part of how I’m wired.”

A loud breath blew into the phone. “I like that. But let me ask about you. Preferably while in my bed.”

“Nice try.”

Needing a shower and sleep, I went to stand.

“Are you close with your mom?”

Lowering to the floor again, I sighed. “Yeah, pretty close.”

“I can imagine that actually.”

“Do you imagine stuff a lot?”

He coughed. “Oh, you don’t even wanna go there, sweetheart.”

Sweetheart? My nose crinkled. “Don’t call me sweetheart.”

“Then Pip it is.” I huffed, and he laughed. “Or Pip-squeak.”

“No, never pip-squeak.”

“Interesting. Favorite movie?”

“Anchorman.”

“What’s your last name?”

“James.”

“Middle name?”

I smiled, enjoying his eagerness. “You haven’t earned the right to know that yet.”

“Fine. Favorite book?”

Book? Curious indeed. “Persuasion.”

“An Austen fan.”

“You’ve read it?” That surprised me in a good way.

“Um, no. But I do know a classic when I hear one.”

I yawned. “I’ve gotta go. I still need to …” I stopped right there, knowing I’d get another sexual innuendo.

“To what?” His voice sounded less groggy now.

“Bed. I need to go to bed.”

Quiet fell. “Sure, okay. What time does your last class finish tomorrow?”

Standing, I looked down the hall to the bathroom, wondering if I should bother washing my hair. “Two. English lit.”

“I’ll meet you.”

That was all he said before hanging up, leaving me to stare dumbly at the screen of my phone.

James. Pippa James.

Anchorman, Persuasion, loves her mom … shit, I didn’t ask about her dad. Idiot. I made a mental note to ask her about him.

Green. Green eyes, brown hair, mint lover, sass talker, sweet cheeked, and mine.

Not yours.

Not yet. Soon, maybe. No, no maybe about it. She’d be mine.

Had she had sex before? Christ, she probably wasn’t a virgin. I cringed at the thought.

She was on Instagram. She didn’t use it much, but she used it more than Facebook. She hardly ever posted there, which was a relief. I fucking loathed Facebook. Not that Instagram was much better, but I could deal. Everyone had their somethings.

No Twitter. Another bonus. The fuck was tweeting anyway?

So I knew I was stalking. I knew it and didn’t really care. I couldn’t stop this, and I didn’t think I wanted to. No, I definitely didn’t want to.

“Hawthorne!”

Seven hours. I’d see her in exactly seven hours. I wondered what she’d wear. What the fuck would I wear? Why did I give a shit? I gave plenty of shit, sure. But never about what girls thought of my wardrobe choices.

She was different somehow. Didn’t know why. Just knew it. Like an uppercut to the jaw. Smacked the fuck out.

She’d hardly touched me, yet she’d hit me harder than I’d ever been hit before.

“Hawthorne! Get over here now before I send recruits to drag your ass in.”

I shook my head, glancing at Coach across the field. God damn. Everyone else was gone. How long had I been doing laps out here on my own?

Something soured in my gut, and I decreased my pace to a slow jog until I stopped in front of Coach. Blowing out heavy breaths, I started stretching. “Sorry, lost track of time.”

The look on his face would’ve sent my heart racing had it not already been. Any faster and it’d probably give out. “You doing okay?”

“Fine.” Swallowing and stretching my hamstrings, I lied, “Just felt like I could go a little longer.”

“Class is already starting. I only realized you were still out here thanks to Mike.”

Fucking Mike. The guy wouldn’t have told Coach Lawson to be a dick, but still, didn’t he realize I was skating on razor-thin ice here? The good news was, less time until I saw Pippa than I realized.

“Won’t do it again. Better hit the showers real quick.” I didn’t look at Coach, and he didn’t say anything else as I raced off the field for the gym.

Once under the hot stream of water, I let out a sigh that seemed to rattle my bones. As though they were made of toothpicks and would collapse with too heavy an inhalation. Hearing my heartbeat in my ears, and my blood rushing throughout my veins, I remembered the way Pippa said the words, wanna fuck?

Everyone was long gone, but I glanced around to make sure before wrapping a hand around myself. I pictured her on her back, spread out before me, her hair spilling over the sheets and pillows of my bed. Groaning quietly, I squeezed and pumped faster, thinking about how she’d pant.

She was a panter and a curser, I’d bet. I just fucking knew it. I’d make her watch as I played with her. Make her wait as I ate her. And then … only after I’d tortured her and she couldn’t take anymore, I’d slide between her legs. Sans condom. I’d feel her heat around me, tightening, twitching, and her soft cries and breathy exhalations filling the room and my mouth.

My free hand slapped against the white tile as I pumped ribbons of white milk from my cock. With my chest heaving, I watched as they fell into the water pooling around my ankles before swirling into the drain.

My mind instantly quieted, I finished showering and got dressed.

I skipped biology. Didn’t matter. I’d catch up from Quinn’s notes.

The problem with that was I was half an hour early, and still, I sat on the bench outside the English building and waited.

My feet bounced, and to distract myself, I pulled out my phone and played Words with Friends. My dad was online. Oh well. Hopefully, he didn’t know my schedule.

I laughed then because who was I kidding. He knew.

He started a game with me and didn’t say a word, though.

Some days, I felt like the luckiest kid alive. My dad was an accountant and also the one person who might’ve known me better than myself. A fact I both loathed and appreciated at the same time.

“Stale,” her voice came from behind me.

My chest constricted, and I sent a quick goodbye message to my dad before tucking my phone away.

Pippa took a seat next to me. She was wearing jeans, dark blue with tears in the knees, and a red Coca-Cola t-shirt. Her hair was up today, piled into a high ponytail at the very top of her head, falling to her shoulders like a brown soda fountain.

“You play?” I turned, mirroring the way she sat, straddling the bench.

She put her bag down and pulled out her phone, flashing me a quick glance at the apps. Most of them were word search games or similar. I smiled but held back the urge to take her phone and search it. Too invasive, yes. Yet the urge was strong.

When she leaned in closer, inspecting me with a frown, I got a whiff of her perfume. Or maybe it was her shampoo. She was about to say something when I blurted, “Is that peppermint?”

Her blush was faint, but it was there. “Yeah, I like mint.”

“I know. I mean your …” I waved at her hair, feeling kind of embarrassed.

“Hair, yes.” A tiny laugh slipped out of her, and then she snorted, making me grin. “Um, tea tree mint shampoo.”

Tea tree mint.

“You already finished class for the day?”

Blinking, I blew out a breath. Focus, asshole. “Yeah, I already have. Wanna go somewhere?”

Watching as she glanced around, I waited for her gaze to return to me. When it did, she shrugged, tossing her bag to the grass. “Nah, here’s good.”

“Here’s good,” I whispered, and she tilted her head, studying me.

“You okay?”

“More than okay.” I smiled genuinely, reaching out to tug on a lock of her hair. “Are you okay?” I asked to be a smartass.

Her smile was like a kick to the chest, her lips curving higher on one side. “More than okay.”

I did wonder, though. “Do you have some kind of aversion to hanging out at my place?”

Her pinched lips were adorable. “No. But I do have an aversion to assholes who break my friend’s heart.”

Shit. Yeah, right. I scratched my brow. “For what it’s worth, he really is a good guy.”

Her button nose scrunched, and I reached over to grab it, making her laugh as she batted my hand away. I caught her wrist, dragging her closer to me until our knees touched and I could make out four faint freckles across her nose.

Her eyes widened, her dark lashes dipping as her gaze darted from mine to my mouth and back again. My stomach tightened with how much I wanted to kiss her. Kissing wasn’t usually my favorite part of foreplay. I preferred a woman’s lips around my shaft. But Pippa’s, those two pink plump lips—they needed to say hello to mine like yesterday.

“Let me touch your lips with mine.”

Surprisingly, she didn’t protest, just exhaled a light breath that ghosted over my lips and chin. Her breath was minty, and I leaned forward slowly, giving her a chance to back away while praying to every god that ever existed she wouldn’t.

Her lashes fluttered even more, and my hand found her cheek, my thumb running over the curve gently, memorizing it. “Why am I letting this happen?” she asked, our lips a hairsbreadth apart.

“Because it’s supposed to.”

She closed the gap, her hands lifting to my hair at the same time her lips landed on mine.

It was sensory explosion, and my eyes shut. Even though I was dying to watch her, I couldn’t fucking handle it.

At the soft whisper of her bottom lip against my top one, shadows that once danced behind my eyelids fled, making way for rainbows of blinding light.

My other hand moved, gripping the side of her head as I parted her lips with mine, craving the velvety feel of her tongue. My dick throbbed as her tongue slid across mine.

She was soft, hesitant, and I wanted to let her explore, but my urge to devour her took over, making my teeth catch her lip to drag it inside my mouth. “Since when did kissing become so fucking good?” I mumbled into her parted lips.

Her laugh was more of a gusty breath, and I inhaled it, shivers coasting down my spine when her nails ran along my scalp.

A piercing whistle had Pippa freezing. “Get it, Hawthorne!”

Growling low in my chest when she pulled away, I stared death at Ed as he walked by with his arm slung around some chick’s shoulders. He rotated his hips, and I flipped him off before grabbing Pippa around the waist and hauling her closer until she was almost straddling me.

“Toby.” She pushed at my chest, then her hands stopped and began rubbing as her eyes clouded over. “Shit, you’re like fucking concrete.”

Grinning would’ve made me look like a conceited dick, but fuck, I couldn’t hold it back. She slapped my chest, and I said, “Say it again.”

“Fucking?” she said without pause.

Pushing on her hips, I held her down, making sure she felt what that did to me. Her head ducked, and the bashful look on her face made my heart feel weird. Like someone had brushed a furry blanket across its exterior, making it hum in contentment.

More pieces clicked together then. She might’ve played a hard game, but it was all a pretense to hide her lack of confidence in that department.

A department I hoped with everything in me we could explore soon.

“More,” I said, tipping her chin up to meet my eyes.

The connection shot fire through my overheated veins, and even though I wanted her lips on mine again, I couldn’t move if I tried.

“More what?”

“Don’t play coy,” I said, a strange husk to my voice.

“You know what?” She leaned forward, and without breaking eye contact, she touched her nose to mine. “I think you should buy me something to eat first. I’ve gotta work in an hour.”

“Then more?” Wait … “What? Work?”

“Yeah, that thing people do to earn money.”

I squeezed her hips. “Smartass. Where do you work?” I couldn’t help it. I didn’t like the idea of something intruding on my time with her.

“The ice-cream parlor.”

I heaved out a dramatic sigh. “Okay. Food. Then more?”

She pecked me. Pecked me like she was a fucking bird teasing a lion. “Maybe.”

Grateful that I got to spend more time with her at least, I let her attempt to pull me up from the bench, her laughter filling unknown cracks inside me as she tried.

She didn’t know, and how could she?

I wanted it all. And this lion wasn’t usually a patient one. That was, not unless he knew he’d win in the end.

“What are you majoring in?” His fingers twirled with mine on the table after we’d finished our burgers. He liked to touch. Constantly. But I was fine with that. Especially seeing as it distracted me from looking at his lips, or from touching my own.

My thumb itched to trace the memory while my lips grew dry with wanting more.

When our banana split arrived, I grabbed a spoon with my free hand, which was my left. I was right handed, so it wasn’t smooth sailing.

Toby laughed, reaching over to swipe some ice cream from my chin with his thumb. Sucking it from his thick digit, he raised his brows, and I realized I’d been caught staring. Not caring, I tilted a shoulder and scooped some more ice cream onto the spoon. He took it from me, delivering it to his mouth.

“I don’t know.” I sighed. “Isn’t that predictable?”

His lips tugged side to side as he no doubt swished the creamy goodness around his mouth. I watched, transfixed. Never before had I wished to become a dessert. I guess there was a first time for everything.

“Not predictable at all. That’s the beauty of it.”

I could see his logic. Kind of. “What about you?” I was about to ask what his backup plan was but knew that might not be a smart thing to do with a football player.

“If I don’t get drafted, you mean?”

I nodded, and he poked me between my eyes. “Never be afraid to ask me something.”

Ha. “You might regret saying that.”

“Doubtful. You can ask. Doesn’t mean I’ll answer, but you can always ask.”

“So?” I said. “What will you do if you don’t get drafted?”

He mulled it over for a long minute as though he’d never thought much about the possibility before. Picking up the spoon again, he lifted it to my mouth, watching intently as my lips wrapped around it. “Those who can’t do, teach, right?” I scowled, pushing the spoon away. He chuckled lightly. “What?”

“That’s an awesome attitude right there, Tobes.”

“Not an attitude. Just stating what I believe to be true.”

Looking at him long and hard, I watched as he shoveled more ice cream into his mouth. I was starting to think he wasn’t exactly the happy-go-lucky guy I’d met almost two weeks ago.

There was more to him, which I liked—despite the cynical attitude. I wasn’t about to run out of there as if he’d started a fire I didn’t want to be around. He was entitled to his opinions. Jaded as they might be.

I had plenty of my own, so I wasn’t one to judge too harshly.

“Teaching then,” I went on. Or tried to. The spoon came at my mouth, and I reluctantly opened, ignoring the heated look in his eyes. “Trying to shut me up?”

He brought the spoon to his mouth, sucking the residue off and holding every part of me captive. “I could listen to you talk about dog shit and do it with a smile on my face. So no, I just have no idea what I’d do.” He shrugged, dragging his eyes over the few customers seated near us in the diner. “I really don’t.”

That maybe should’ve alarmed me. Everyone needed a backup plan. Again, I couldn’t talk. I had no idea what I was doing, but I wasn’t pegging all my hopes and dreams on one thing.

“Do most athletes create a backup plan? There’s gotta be something else you might be interested in.”

His expression turned unreadable, but after a long second, he smiled. “Oh, plenty of other things I’m interested in.”

He grabbed my hand, bringing my fingers to his mouth and nipping the tip of my pointer finger. Laughing, I tried to yank it free, but he pulled me to him, murmuring, “I’m interested in you. Very interested.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“A million oh yeahs. In case you haven’t noticed.”

I could feel my cheeks tint. Then his lips were on mine and ridding any and all of my thoughts.

Pulling away, he asked, “What are you interested in?”

I blew a piece of hair out of my face, slumping against the back of the booth. “That’s a hard one.” He narrowed his eyes, and I grinned. “I’m not inflating that ego of yours. You already know why I’m sitting here.”

Scratching the bridge of his slightly crooked nose, he asked, “No really, what can you see yourself doing?”

Still staring at his nose, I blinked a few times, trying to think about it. “I really don’t know. Nursing, maybe. Helping people in some way. Other than that, I have no idea. I just know that I can’t see myself sitting stagnant in an office.” His finger traced over the top of mine, his gaze steady on my face. “I need to be doing something. Not only to keep busy but also something worthwhile.”

He didn’t blink for half a minute, his stare dropping to our hands as his finger curled around mine. “Whatever you do, you’re going to make it your bitch.”

“Yeah?”

Releasing my finger, he dipped his into the ice cream. “A million oh yeahs.”

A laugh rumbled out from deep in my stomach as he smeared ice cream over my lips before shutting me up with his mouth.

Toby: Come over?

A smile was quick to arrive as I read his text.

Remembering the way he watched me at the diner, the way his eyes surveyed my every move, made me feel both hot and cold. Like I couldn’t control my body temperature.

Kissing Toby felt like more than kissing. It felt like I was being burned, slowly incinerated until I thought I’d burst.

He’d texted me since, asking to see me again, and even joined me in a Words with Friends game. Yesterday, I caved, allowing him to walk me home from the library. He’d been in a team meeting while texting me to say he was bored. We met after, and he walked me home. I didn’t let him come in, and he didn’t fight me on it, just kissed me senseless before walking into the fading sunlight.

It was past time to admit that yes, I liked him. Liked him in a way that made my stomach tremble and my heart quake with uncertainty. Liked him in a way that made me reconsider the word like.

It felt too insignificant a word.

Another message came through.

Toby: Your read receipts are on. Just sayin’.

Laughing, I typed out a reply.

Me: I was thinking about it.

Toby: Too much thinking isn’t good for you. Trust me. Bring Daisy if it helps. We’ll watch a movie.

Frowning yet still smiling, I contemplated it. Only for a second, though. Trying to stop Toby Hawthorne from getting what he wanted felt like a game of cat and mouse. We could race around in circles, but we knew the result would still be the same.

Especially when I wanted to see him.

Really, really wanted to.

Looking over at Daisy, who was studying, I asked, “Wanna come to the townhouse?”

The look on her face when she glanced at me was comical. “As in Quinn and Toby’s townhouse?”

I bounced my head from side to side, cringing a little. “Yeah, that one.”

She squinted. “You really must like him to ask that of me.”

“You don’t have to.”

I tossed a pillow at her, and she gasped. “You’re asking me to be a third wheel.”

“Quinn will be there.”

“Your argument isn’t getting any more convincing.”

I knew she and Quinn still had some serious tension. The kind that was bound to bubble and explode at any moment, and maybe that was why she hesitated. I didn’t like what the dude had done, but I wanted to see Toby, and I knew Quinn, in some fucked up way, would want to see Daisy.

Still, if she got hurt again … no, I couldn’t do that to her. “Never mind. It was a stupid idea.”

I started typing out a response to Toby when Daisy sighed. “You’re not going to go over there without me, are you?”

I would, but I’d prefer not to. I was worried I’d do something I might not be ready for. “I think I might.”

She scratched her cheek. “Maybe Quinn won’t even be home.”

“Want me to ask?”

“Yeah,” she said. I quickly typed out a text, hitting send as soon as she said, “Wait, no. Because Toby might tell him we asked and then—”

“Too late.”

She groaned, diving down onto her pillow. “Why, why, why.”

“You really don’t have to come. And hey, give me my pillow back.”

Grabbing it, she shoved it under her head.

“Oh, hell no.” I got up, tugging it back and putting it on my bed as she laughed.

My phone pinged.

Toby: Don’t think he’s home.

Me: See you soon.

“He said he’s not home.” I tossed my phone into my purse and looked for my bra.

Unless he cleaned before our arrival, Toby was true to his word about being a neat freak.

Inspecting the living room for the second time, this time completely sober, I found it bare of anything except for an entertainment unit, a huge flat screen, and the large brown suede sectional.

No pictures. Though, there were a few black throw cushions and coasters on the coffee table.

“Um, so Quinn is home,” Toby said, rubbing a hand over his brow as he followed us into the room.

Daisy turned to me with a look that had me wincing. “Sorry.”

Her shoulders slumped, and she folded herself into the couch with her sketch pad.

Feeling bad, I looked at Toby, finding his eyes already on me. My pulse skittered, and I blurted, “Are we watching a movie?”

Taking a step closer, he curled a strand of hair behind my ear, causing goose bumps to rise from the feather-soft touch. “Yeah,” he said. “We can watch a movie.”

I sat on the couch as he got it ready. “Back in a sec.” He left the room, returning a few minutes later with a bowl of popcorn.

Quinn showed himself a moment later, sitting down quietly beside Daisy.

“Hey, asshole.”

Despite my comment and the tension between them, it thankfully wasn’t awkward. Though I probably wouldn’t even be aware if it was.

I had no idea what we were watching. I was too busy tossing popcorn into my mouth as Toby played with my hair.

I felt relaxed. Sleepy even. Like I could drop my head to his shoulder and pass out in an instant.

I didn’t find that strange. What I found strange was feeling like I could be anywhere in the world, and I’d still feel this content, this at peace, so long as he was beside me.

When things started getting too violent on screen, Daisy went outside, and Quinn had disappeared to take a call.

“Thank fuck,” Toby said, then he was turning my chin and planting his lips on mine.

Slightly startled, I gasped into his mouth. He used it to his advantage, sliding his tongue between my lips to meet mine.

And just like the last time he kissed me, my heart skidded to a halt, then raced, pounding so hard I thought the whole world could hear it.

The almost empty bowl of popcorn fell, and my arms found their way around his neck, nails and fingertips skating down his nape and making him groan.

Footsteps sounded, then disappeared, but we didn’t stop. He pressed me closer, encouraging me without words to climb onto his lap. As soon as I did, his hands climbed up my shirt, and I dissolved into his hard body, feeling him between my spread thighs.

The rough pads of his fingers floated slowly down my spine. So deliciously slow. When they met my hips, he squeezed, then started rocking me over him.

Teeth nipped at my lower lip, and my hands became greedy, running through his thick, dark hair. Peeking my eyes open, I found him watching me and squirmed at the storm surging in his eyes. “I don’t think I’ve dry humped since the eleventh grade.”

A hoarse laugh sputtered out of me. “Me neither.”

He frowned, clearly displeased by what I said. I cut off anything else he was about to say by sinking my tongue inside his mouth.

His arms became vices around me, my breasts pressing into his chest as our tongues and teeth got rougher, deeper, hungrier.

“More,” he murmured, sucking my lip hard.

My body was agreeing, but my head said to wake up. Daisy was here. Probably stuck somewhere with an ex-boyfriend who she was still very much in love with.

I couldn’t do that to her. Bringing her here was already bad enough.

Loosening my grip on his hair, I kissed him softly, whispering into his ear, “Not yet.”

His growl was dark and caused my hands to tremble.

Time to go.

Pushing off him, I righted my shirt then began picking pieces of popcorn up from the floor. “Pip-squeak,” he said, laughter coating his voice.

“Don’t call me that.” I kept cleaning, picking tiny kernel pieces from the carpet.

Fingers under my chin had my eyes snapping upward, colliding with amused blue ones. “Leave it.”

Wrinkling my nose, I shook my head and kept going. “Almost done.”

His hand grabbed mine, pulling me to my feet. “Come on. You better go.”

Something panged in my chest. “Okay then.”

Grabbing my cheeks, he slid his thumbs over them. “Because if you don’t, I’ll drag you upstairs. Or to the laundry room or bathroom. I’m not picky.” Most likely feeling the heat infusing my cheeks, he chuckled, pecking me on the nose. “I’ll walk you ladies back.”

We collected a confused looking Daisy from Quinn and walked back to campus. He didn’t say much as we walked, but he held my hand the whole way, fingers laced with mine.

And that simple touch felt more important than any conversation we could’ve had at that point.

An hour after we’d returned home, I came back from the bathroom to find Daisy already asleep and a sheet of paper resting on my pillow.

After locking the door, I climbed under the covers and stared down at the portrait she’d drawn of Toby and me. My finger traced it, trying to find space between our connected bodies where we sat against each other on his couch with the bowl of popcorn on my lap.

There was none.

And that simple, noticeable fact had me feeling lightheaded with happiness.

The steam from the shower fogged the mirrors.

I wrapped a towel around my waist before running a hand over the condensation. Swiping my damp palm over the coarse fabric of the towel, I stared at my reflection for a moment before opening the cabinet.

Three pill bottles stared back at me, ranging from antipsychotics to antidepressants. A film of dust layered the caps and packaging.

Heaving out a weary breath, I grabbed my deodorant and slammed the cabinet shut.

I hadn’t thought about taking those pills since I arrived here at Gray Springs. So why I was even looking at them now was beyond me.

I brushed, flossed, and shaved before heading to my room to dress and grab my gym bag.

Dawn was peeking through the wooden slats of the venetian blinds. My bones felt brittle. My head heavy as I stared at my freshly made bed with too much longing.

Not now.

I dragged myself downstairs where I found Quinn already preparing a protein shake in the kitchen. “Don’t worry, I’ll clean the blender afterward.”

I grunted, for once not really giving a shit.

He poured the creamy contents into two travel cups, glancing at me when done. “You okay?”

“Yeah, fine.” I took the cup, sliding it across the counter and putting the cap on. “Thanks, we’d better go.”

I started walking out of the kitchen. It was five forty a.m., and we needed to get our asses moving.

“Seriously,” Quinn said, “you look really tired.”

I was, but I didn’t tell him that. “Dude, shouldn’t I be the one asking you this shit?” Spinning, I caught his gaze and plastered on a grin. “I mean, what are you going to do about your predicament?”

By the way his jaw clenched, he knew exactly what I was talking about. “I’ll … I don’t know. I’m trying to figure it out.”

He’d been quieter since Daisy came over with Pippa. “Well, I wouldn’t take too long if I were you.”

“Noted,” he said dryly.

Guilt gnawed tiny teeth into my gut over distracting him with his own problems, but I ignored it.

If one thing could be said about Quinn, it was that he was good to his very core. That he was in a situation like this, stuck between two girls, had to be doing a number on him. There was no easy way out of that fucked-up triangle.

Physiology should’ve interested me, and in fact, I’d chosen the course with good intentions. Those good intentions fled within the first week of the semester, and now I was dutifully taking notes yet fucking bored out of my damn mind.

I liked learning. In fact, if it weren’t for growing up with a football in my hand eighty percent of the time, I’d probably have been dubbed the stupid title of nerd.

“Toby,” someone whispered beside me.

“Hmm?” I asked, not taking my eyes from the intricate sketch I was doodling. A pair of puffy, kiss-swollen lips.

Soft giggling met my ear, and my eyes shot over, finding Tina. “You free tonight?”

“Don’t you have a boyfriend?” Never mind the fact I was very much not interested. I mean, Tina was gorgeous and all, but she always bragged about her Brown-attending, fraternity-loving boyfriend whenever she had the chance.

Her teeth punctured her lip, and I frowned, shifting back in my seat. “Things aren’t, you know, going so great.”

“So the logical thing would be to make things worse, right?”

Her scowl was a little funny, but I bit my tongue. “No need to be an ass. God.” She shook her head, her honey-colored hair not even moving. “I thought you were nice.” I inspected it a little more, realizing why. Hairspray. Why use hairspray when you’re only going to class?

It smelled funny, felt sticky, and it was fucking flammable.

Blinking, I tried to shut my brain up. “I’m not trying to be an ass. Just merely trying to help you out here by stating the obvious.”

Her smile should’ve made me feel relieved I hadn’t offended her, but it didn’t. After a quick glance at the professor, who was almost yelling at his desk of notes, she whispered, “I think maybe I need a reminder that there are good guys out there. Ones who don’t keep you hanging on while they’re doing whatever they want two states away.”

Oh, fuck no. I wasn’t her friend. I’d barely said two words to her before, but I could see clear as day exactly what’d happen. We’d fuck, she’d cry, then she’d use me as a therapist, telling me all about her and her boyfriend’s issues. No fucking thank you.

Besides, the only person I wanted inside of was Pippa. Strange occurrence, but nevertheless, it was true. “I’m taken.”

Forget the fact I wasn’t exactly sure it was true. It felt true. And so I promptly turned my head back to the screen, picking up my pen as my mind cleared, and my chest filled with something indescribable. Pride? No, happiness.

I was happy. Something I didn’t expect to feel after waking up as low as I did this morning. And no little honey-haired lady with too much hairspray would take that from me.

“You’re joking, right?” Tina said as we packed away our notebooks twenty minutes later.

“About what?” I asked, trying to find my black pen. I could’ve sworn it was here a minute ago. I looked around the aisle, spying it on the floor and bending over.

Something smacked my ass. My hand gripped the pen, the plastic creaking as I straightened and saw Ed climb over the row of seats. “Sup. Tina, right?”

“Right. Hi,” she said.

“Did you for real just smack my ass?” I tossed my pen into my backpack with my notebook.

Grinning, Ed shrugged. “You coming to the Bean Stream tonight?”

“The coffee joint?” I shouldered my bag. “Why would I?”

“Open mic night. Robbo’s playing. Apparently, he’s the next Ed Sheeran.” Ed waggled his brows at Tina. “My name’s Ed, too. Eat your heart out.”

“No shit?” My eyes widened. “I think I’ll still pass.”

Tina still hadn’t moved, her eyes huge, jumping back and forth between us.

“Did you know he’s got a girlfriend now?” Tina blurted at Ed.

Not that it was any of his business, but I didn’t deny or confirm. I just shrugged and skirted past them, Tina’s hairspray and perfume filling my nostrils and making me want to sneeze.

“Wait a damn minute,” Ed said. “You’re dating that brunette now?”

Stopping on the stairs, I looked back. “Trying to. And hey, Tina’s looking for some fun.”

Her face turned beet red, and I barely suppressed my laughter as Ed eyed her up and down.

That’ll teach her to butt her perky little nose into other people’s business.

Outside, the sun tried to overcome the shade created by the gray clouds as I made my way to the other side of campus.

My thoughts traveled faster than my feet now that I’d made a statement about Pippa. I thought about how I might tell my dad about her. Was it too soon?

Would he be happy? No, don’t be stupid. He’d be ecstatic.

But technically, was she even mine?

My throat closed a little, and I stopped beside a maple tree outside the English building, watching the students file out as my mind ran rampant.

Nothing ever really belonged to you. People had a way of leaving or letting you down. Here one day, gone the next.

My heartrate climbed higher, my hands starting to itch.

What had I done?

Had I set myself up for disappointment or, worse, heartbreak?

What have you done?

A body collided with mine, arms looping around my neck. It took me a delayed heartbeat to register that smell. Minty and fresh. Pippa.

My arms locked around her waist, and I stared down at her as she pulled back to look up at me. Her eyes glittered, her cheeks stretched wide with her happiness. “Hi.”

The shadows fled, and I smiled back. “Hey.”

The professor excused himself to talk with a colleague who’d entered the lecture hall.

“Hello.” I kept looking forward, unaware if whoever said that was talking to me and not really caring.

“Psst,” they hissed, followed by something landing on my desk.

A bobby pin.

Finally, I turned, locking eyes with another pair of green ones. Renee. “May I help you?”

I had no beef with the girl, but I had no patience for any drama she might want to cause.

“You’re friends with the blonde?” Yep. Here we go, I thought. I raised one brow, and she half rolled her eyes. “No need to get defensive. I’m just asking some questions here.”

That and her sugary sweet tone pulled my spine straight. “Correction. You’ve asked a question. One that has to do with my friend.” Eyeing her expensive sweater, I huffed quietly. Designer, presumably. The trust fund types were easy to spot at times. No wonder she and Callum had been a thing. I bet they once wore matching Rolexes with one another’s names engraved on them.

That was before she was caught sleeping beside Mike O’Rourke, Callum’s once upon a time friend, and effectively ruined that perfect happily ever after. Oh yeah, Daisy told me all about it.

“So you’ll have to understand if I’m a little reluctant to allow you to ask any more.”

Renee’s gaze was sharp, measuring. Then she smiled, and I was almost blown backward into the seat in front of mine by the vibrancy of it. She leaned forward. “I can respect that. But honestly, I just need to know one thing.”

Sighing, I blew some hair from my face. “Spit it out then.”

Her laugh was airy. “Are they a thing? She and Callum?”

I didn’t want to tell this girl anything. Not after what she’d done to a guy who I thought was pretty decent. Despite Callum and Daisy only being friends, a part of me wished she could move on with him.

Renee’s eyes narrowed, and I recognized the barely veiled desperation lurking in them. She still loved the guy.

Fuckleberry. “Listen and listen carefully, and I’m only telling you this because you are not to start any funny crap with her.” I exhaled heavily. “She’s not interested in him … not like that.”

That appeased her enough to lean back in her seat. She glanced away a second before looking back. Obviously realizing I’d only said she’s not interested. But how the heck was I supposed to know that about Callum? He seemed interested in Daisy, sure. Yet I didn’t know the guy well enough to talk about his intentions, so I wouldn’t.

She gave me a brief smile accompanied by a nod before looking down at her pens lined up in front of her.

Grabbing her bobby pin, I placed it on her desk before turning around. I didn’t know why I felt kind of bad. It wasn’t my job to give this girl any morsel of hope. She’d have to find it on her own.

The professor returned. “Now, who can tell me the difference between the equation listed here, and the one we studied last week?”

The following night, I was tugging on a gray sweater dress while Daisy grumbled behind me. “We’re just friends. You and Toby should go out on your own.”

I wouldn’t take no for an answer. I’d been hanging out with Toby in some way for most of the week. Ever since we’d watched a movie at his place last weekend.

Daisy needed to get out, and I wanted to see Toby—win-win, in my opinion. “Let’s go already.” I checked my purse, then grabbed a tin of mints from my dresser and tossed them inside it.

Daisy groaned but hauled herself off her bed, tugging on her cardigan and fixing her hair.

I called a cab as we headed downstairs.

Neither of us had cars here. And I could’ve asked Toby to pick me up, but I wanted to make sure I could convince Daisy to come with us.

I’d left my old Corolla at home. Mom had bought it for me when I’d gotten my license, and I’d shared it with Drew when he got his. But I knew she’d have to ask Dad for the money to buy Drew a car if I took it with me to college.

And I knew enough about the campus before arriving to know I probably wouldn’t need it.

Daisy was silent as she climbed into the back seat with me. “Seriously, what’s up? Do you really not want to go?”

She’d gotten home in a weird mood last night. And although she’d thought I was asleep, I still heard her. She’d stopped crying over Quinn and Alexis weeks ago. Last night, I heard the tears return even as she tried to muffle them with her pillow.

“It’s not that … I mean”—she sighed, staring out the window at the blurring old buildings on campus—“I like Callum. I just, ugh, never mind.”

I got it, though. She liked Callum, but she loved Quinn.

Taking her hand, I squeezed it quickly, and she squeezed back.

The arcade was noisy and kind of dark. I hadn’t been to one since middle school, so I was excited when Toby had suggested it the night before. But when his eyes met mine before we stepped inside, I just wanted to steal him and hide away.

Preferably in a bedroom somewhere.

I tried to focus on the puck zooming across the table and failed. I missed, narrowing my eyes at Toby who was trying not to gloat. “You said you were the queen of air hockey.”

Growling under my breath, I smacked the puck toward him, which he effortlessly pushed back toward me. I managed to hit it before it got anywhere near the goal, almost sliding across the table on my stomach.

Toby laughed, and I wanted to growl some more, yet the sound of that deep laugh did things to me, so I couldn’t.

We’d lost Daisy and Callum near the hoops, but I figured she’d come find me if she needed me.

“Kiss me,” Toby whispered as we walked over to the kiosk.

Leaning up on my toes, I pressed my lips to his quickly. Toby made an irritated sound when I lowered to the ground and grabbed my hand. Pulling me to an alcove behind the race car driving games, he pushed me up against the wall.

“You get a sexy as fuck look in your eyes when you get competitive.” He nipped my neck, and my head dropped to the side as his teeth and tongue traveled higher.

“Yeah?” I asked, trying to stay in the present and not float away on the flutters invading my body.

“Mmm,” he hummed, licking my chin before finally, finally, finding my lips. They hovered, and my stomach flipped with sweet anticipation.

“More,” I said, my chest heaving against his.

Large hands grabbed mine, pinning them above my head. “Your wish is my command.”

His tongue diving inside my mouth cut off my laughter as it searched for mine.

I offered it to him, and his groan set my heart racing faster as it vibrated down my throat.

He tasted like spearmint and the soda we’d drank earlier. I felt ravenous, my teeth taking his lip and sucking, my hands trying to pull free of his to touch him.

“More?” he asked throatily, stealing his lip back and grinding his erection into my stomach.

Without a moment’s hesitation, I nodded.

We raced out of the arcade, and I glanced back quickly, finding Daisy laughing with Callum near the skill testers.

Knowing he’d take her home, I picked up my pace until we reached Toby’s car farther down the street.

He held the door open for me but grabbed me by the hips to devour my mouth once more before letting me climb in.

I felt breathless. Weightless and heated. Like I could fly away or combust at any moment.

The drive back to his place only took five minutes as he sped along back streets and navigated the slow flow of traffic, but it felt like an hour. His eyes constantly flew over to meet mine, and his grip on the steering wheel mirrored the way my hands clenched beneath my thighs.

Toby parked haphazardly, making me laugh again. I climbed out, almost forgetting about my purse laying in the foot well.

His hand shook slightly as he slid the key into the lock and pushed the door open. He didn’t let me move past him, grabbing me around the waist and slamming the door closed, the keys and my purse dropping to the entryway floor.

The ting resounded, but our breathing was louder as our hands pushed and shoved clothing off our bodies while our mouths tried to stay fused.

We thankfully made it to the top of the stairs before we collapsed. Toby fell over me before rising and yanking my panties down my legs.

“Holy fuck,” he breathed, running shaky hands over my thighs. “Later. I’ll explore later.”

I agreed and undid my bra. It didn’t make it to the floor, though; it just hung from me as he nuzzled his face between my breasts and shoved his briefs over his ass.

I didn’t get to see him, but if what I felt nudging at my entrance was any indication, I didn’t need to in order to know he was very well endowed.

Holy cracker jack.

“Pill?” he asked, pulling back and pushing a finger inside me. I groaned out a quiet, “Yes.”

Removing his finger, he aligned himself.

“Clean?” I asked.

“Of course. Never been bare before.”

His wet finger dragged over my lower lip. It should’ve grossed me out to have my own bodily fluids meet my mouth. Should’ve. But it really didn’t. It only made me feel more desperate.

Those blue eyes stared, his jaw slack before his mouth replaced his finger and he eased himself inside.

It wasn’t slow, but he was careful, for which I was grateful. He felt thick and so huge rising above me. I felt stretched and tiny in comparison.

“I’ve wanted to do this since I first laid eyes on you,” he rasped into my mouth, his hand grabbing my thigh and lifting my leg over his shoulder. Hips rotating, he continued, “Tell me … please tell me I get to do this whenever I want.”

Blinking, I could hardly make out what he looked like because he sure knew how to use his equipment. I managed to say, “Yes, whenever you want.”

I swear he said, “Always. I’ll always want this.” But everything turned into a blur as he overran my senses, and my body submitted to everything he was doing to it.

My hands coasted over his bulging biceps, my nails scoring his skin as he sent me hurdling toward orgasm.

And the most shocking thing wasn’t that he could do something no one else had done—not by having intercourse anyway. It was that he did it twice before emptying inside me on a loud bark of a groan.

“Spread them wider.”

I did, and Toby continued toying with me, my fists clenching the sheets.

The room was hazy with early rays of morning light and the scent of sex. Everything felt more tangible. The soft sheets, his velvet tongue, and the coarse stubble on his chin. We’d hardly slept, and I didn’t even care.

“Shit.” My hand grabbed his hair when his tongue took a long, leisurely lick where my thighs met my sex. Over and over.

I’d learned quickly that Toby liked to torture. He liked to leave me so strung out, I was begging for it. Which never took long.

“Now,” I said.

His chuckle was wicked, but he wouldn’t win this time. I nudged his head away, grinning at his widening eyes as I pushed him to the bed.

I straddled his waist, positioning him at my entrance before sinking down. Those vivid blue orbs flared, his nostrils too, as he reached up and squeezed my breasts. Waiting until I sank down fully, he then flipped me on my back and nipped my neck. “Nice try.”

His hips swiveled, and I shifted my legs higher up his back. “Shut up and kiss me.”

Afterward, we laid in sluggish, euphoric states. Our bodies clammy, and our smiles sleepy and sated.

I knew I should probably get home. I needed a shower and a hot meal, but I was reluctant to leave this room. To leave him.

The black framed picture sitting on his dark wood dresser stared at me. A picture of him and his dad when Toby was probably only in middle school. They looked happy with matching grins and dark hair, arms around each other.

With my finger trailing over Toby’s sparse chest hairs, I pondered as he snoozed. “Tell me about your mom.”

I wasn’t sure if he’d heard me, but then, without opening his eyes, he said. “She left when I was a kid. Not much else to say.”

I didn’t push, knowing without him saying so that it was obviously a sore subject. “My dad left too.”

One eye opened, looking tired but curious. “Aren’t we quite the pair?”

Smirking despite the ugly subject matter, I agreed. “Indeed.”

“Why’d he leave?”

I thought about telling him. I was sleeping with him. And the way I felt about him seemed way too strong to be misconstrued for something as simple as like. But I didn’t want to discuss my dad right now. I felt good—better than good—and I didn’t want that feeling tainted by anything else.

“A story for another time.” I yawned, pushing off his chest. The sun had ascended hours ago, and my stomach growled.

“Hungry?” he said, humor tinging his sleepy voice. “I’ll make us something.”

“Sure.” I bit my lip. “Mind if I take a shower first?”

“Mi casa es su casa.”

Laughing quietly, I climbed out of bed and checked the hall before running down it to grab my panties and bra. I almost squealed when I saw Quinn’s door open, holding my undergarments to my chest as if they’d actually hide anything. Thankfully, he wasn’t even in there.

In the bathroom, I showered quickly, cringing at all the male products and opting not to wash my hair.

Spying my reflection in the fogged over mirror as I was drying myself, I froze.

I looked like I’d gone ten rounds with a vacuum cleaner. My hair was a tangled mess, my cheeks flushed bright red, and hickeys decorated my neck and chest.

Jesus stinking Christ.

I quickly stepped into my panties and strapped on my bra. Ripping the cabinet open, I scanned the contents, looking for a comb. That was when I saw them.

I didn’t need to pick them up to know what they were but couldn’t stop myself from leaning forward to read the labels.

Toby Hawthorne.

Two different types of antidepressants and another prescription I didn’t recognize the name of.

With my throat closing over and my heart thundering through my body, I closed the cabinet with shaky hands, abandoning my search for a comb.

My feet were two blocks of concrete as I unglued them from the tiles and moved back into the room. Toby had fallen asleep, and I stared, listening to my relentlessly pounding heart mingling with the sound of his snores.

The brown and gray sheets were half on the floor, half on his body, covering his manhood but exposing his muscular thighs and upper body.

How well do you really know someone?

You don’t.

Admittedly, I’d rushed into this way too quick. But I’d felt safe enough to do so. My gut said yes, and I trusted it.

It’d never let me down before.

Until now.

Grabbing the remainder of my clothes, I got dressed and quietly walked out of the house.

Yawning, I dragged my heavy eyelids open a few times before closing them again.

They sprang open a second later, and I sat straight up.

Pippa.

The bed was still rumpled, her scent still clinging to my pillows and sheets. Where was she?

I jumped out of bed, grabbing my sweats from the floor and tugging them on. Sniffing under my arms, I cringed, thinking I should probably take a quick shower before I rubbed myself all over her again.

Yeah, that was what I’d do.

Only, she wasn’t there. I opened every door upstairs, even Quinn’s, finding him half passed out on his bed before shutting the door and racing downstairs. Stopping at the bottom, I glanced back up the stairs where some of my clothes lay strewn on the carpet, then back down at where I remembered yanking off Pippa’s cardigan and tossing it somewhere near the kitchen entryway. It wasn’t there.

She was gone.

I walked around aimlessly, running over scenarios in my head for why she’d just up and leave.

Maybe her mom called with bad news. Bad things happened every day.

Maybe she felt sick all of a sudden and had to go back to her dorm.

Oh, fuck. Maybe she got her period and needed to get some tampons or whatever.

Daisy could’ve called her, seeing as Quinn clearly stayed out last night, which wasn’t like him. Yeah, that must’ve been it. I’d just text her—ask if everything was okay.

I made some coffee, taking my mug upstairs with me and sitting on the bed.

It occurred to me that I really should wash the sheets. Though, looking at them, I felt reluctant to get rid of any trace of her.

Leaning down, I sniffed the pillows. Her fading scent caused my chest to tighten.

Putting the mug down, I went in search of my jeans on the stairs. Finding my phone in them, I discovered a missed call from my dad. I sent him a quick text saying I’d call him later, then opened my last messages from Pippa and typed out a new one.

Me: Everything okay? Where’d you go?

When no response came through, I put my phone down and finished my coffee, staring at the carpet as I thought about the way she moaned. She wasn’t a big moaner when she came—she was a breathy panter, just as I’d predicted—but I’d managed to pull a few out of her.

Feeling smug, I downed the last of my coffee and picked up my phone again.

Still no response.

Me: Seriously. Starting to get worried here. Are you okay?

I stared at the screen long enough to see she’d read it, and long enough to realize she wasn’t going to respond.

Okay. So she was all right—physically—unless some random person had her phone.

What if she’d run into some asshole on the way home? It was only a few minutes’ walk, but still, there was bound to be some weird pricks lurking around Gray Springs.

Why didn’t she respond?

I stood, putting my mug down and stripping the bed. If she didn’t want to reply, fine.

Fucking fine.

I tugged the sheets off, then the pillowcases, and then took them downstairs to the laundry room, stuffing them in the machine. I added the detergent, slammed the door closed, and turned it on.

She could’ve at least replied. Told me she was napping or something.

How could she tell you if she was napping?

Because she clearly wasn’t asleep if she’d read my texts.

Nap or no nap, I didn’t know what the hell to make of this.

Yeah, I’d slept with plenty of chicks before, and some had even left before I’d woken up, but I didn’t care. All the less awkward, in my opinion.

But shit, this was us. This was my green-eyed, mint-flavored Pippa.

I’d never gone bareback with someone before and couldn’t even put her near any of those past experiences. She was more. Everything more.

And she was ruining my mind.

My gut sank, and I went back upstairs. I should go see her. Yeah, I’d do that.

About to remove my sweats, I paused, anger inflating my chest. No, fuck that.

If she didn’t want to see me or talk to me, then whatever.

What-fucking-ever.

I didn’t even realize I’d picked the coffee mug up until I saw it sailing toward the wall, then raining all over the carpet in white and black pieces.

My hands went to my hair, my heart roaring in my ears.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Quinn didn’t wake up. Dude could sleep through a fucking hurricane.

Fuck.

I collapsed on the bed, lying on the bare mattress and squeezing my eyes shut as my mind raced.

“Hey.” Quinn’s voice slithered into my sleep-riddled brain. He shook my shoulder. “Toby, wake up.”

“No.”

I heard him sigh before saying, “Pippa’s downstairs. I’d entertain her, but I gotta go find Lex. Oh, and I put your sheets in the dryer, too.”

My eyes flashed open, and I sat up so fast, dizziness overtook me. “What time is it?” I tried to focus, scanning my room for my phone.

“Almost four. We must’ve slept most of the day away.”

I didn’t bother asking why he did. Not because I didn’t care, but because I didn’t want him asking me questions. Which he often liked to do when I slept too much. “Well, shit.”

He paused in the doorway, checking his pockets. “You, ah, have an issue with the mug?”

“Huh?” I frowned at him as I stood, remembering Pippa was apparently downstairs. I made my way past him, heading to the bathroom to take a piss.

“The shit all over the floor? And the dent in the wall?”

I groaned, tucking myself away and washing my hands. Grabbing my toothbrush, I squirted some paste on and ran it under the tap quickly. “Don’t worry about it,” I mumbled around my brush.

His brows narrowed as I watched him in the mirror. “You know you can talk to me, right?”

My hand paused, but I just nodded. He waved goodbye and disappeared. I heard him say something to Pippa quickly before the front door shut.

Spitting, I rinsed my mouth and washed my brush, then splashed my face with some water.

Why was she here? Did she regret what we did? How fast things went?

I didn’t know if I could, but maybe, if she really needed me to, I could go slower.

I refused to acknowledge the voices that said she might be here for reasons that might affect me more than I thought they would.

She wasn’t done with me.

I knew she wasn’t. She couldn’t look at me the way she did, tremble beneath me like she had, and laugh with me like she’d never done it before and be fucking done with me.

I pushed the ridiculous thought away.

She was sitting on the couch, her legs wrapped in black leggings and tucked beneath her. Her hair was down, flowing in natural waves around her apprehensive face.

My stomach dropped. Any relief I’d felt left, making way for anger.

I leaned against the doorway, folding my arms across my bare chest.

She gulped.

Good. I hoped whatever she had to say hurt. I hoped it burned its way up her slim, beautiful throat.

“Toby.” A whisper, followed by her patting the empty space on the couch next to her.

I don’t think so. A smirk tugged at my mouth. “No thanks. What do you want?” Her furrowed brow made my blood simmer. “Do you need another round with Gray Springs all-star wide receiver tonight to tell your girlfriends about?”

She rose from the couch, her shock and hurt a palpable thing that wrapped tight around my chest, squeezing in a way I relished. “Don’t be a dick. I came here to explain something to you.”

“Explain the way you up and left while I was asleep?” I stepped closer until we were almost toe to toe, hissing through clenched teeth. “Like everything we did meant nothing? And to tell me that you’re a beautiful fucking liar?”

“I haven’t lied about a damn thing,” she volleyed. “But I’m about to walk out that door if this is how you’re going to fucking act.”

That brought me up short, but I tried not to let my panic show. “I’m not going to stop you. Explain or don’t, I don’t particularly give a shit.”

She stepped back, her pale skin paling further. “You know what?” Her head shook, eyes glazing over with tears. “I think I was right to overreact after all.”

What? “Overreact about what?” I grabbed her wrist as she went to walk by me.

“You.” At my confused expression, she laughed humorlessly. “The medication, Toby. In your bathroom.”

My hand fell away. My heart plummeting to the floor. “How …” I stopped, knowing damn well how she’d found them. It wasn’t something I’d planned to keep from her, but shit, since when did you need to walk around warning your love interests of your mental health? “I’m failing to understand what the problem is.”

“The problem is you didn’t tell me.”

The laugh that slipped out of me was dry. “I hadn’t told you yet. And I didn’t realize it was a deal breaker.”

Her growl was cute, but I couldn’t let it get to me. What the hell was her deal?

“It’s not.” Her shoulders sagged. “Not exactly.”

“Not exactly?” I guffawed, my hands flying to my head. I stared up at the ceiling. “I think you should go.”

“Toby …”

“No.” I dropped my head, arms slapping to my sides as I brushed past her to the door. “It’s clear you’ve got an issue with this, so there’s no point in wasting our time.” I didn’t believe any of the shit I was saying. Then again, I often never did. “Go.”

Pippa ducked her head, sniffing as she walked by me. I was about to close the door when she said, “My dad was diagnosed borderline bipolar when I was a child.” My hand froze, the door hanging open enough for me to see her turn around and give me the full effect of the hurt swimming in her eyes. “He left right before my fourteenth birthday. His reason was that we were better off without him.”

I could only stare, every tense muscle in my body slowly loosening, one by one, until I almost slumped against the door. Straightening, I opened it fully as she continued, “So I’m sorry, but it scared me. Especially after watching my mom all these years. I shouldn’t have let it, but it just did, okay? And I know your … issues may be different, that most people’s are, but I didn’t know—” She squeaked as I grabbed her hand, hauling her inside.

The door slammed behind me as Toby tugged me to his chest, his hands grabbing my face. Eyes bright and burning stared down into mine. Breathing, loud and labored, mixed with my own. And then his lips descended. I braced myself, preparing for the passionate, rough rawness I’d come to expect whenever we collided.

Except it was nothing like that.

I was taken back to the first time his lips introduced themselves to mine with the sweet, gentle brushstrokes. “I’m sorry,” he breathed out. I stared up at him, my mouth floating over his. “I didn’t mean to be such a …”

“Dick?” I offered.

He chuckled, and relief flooded my chest at the sound. “Yeah. That. You need to try to understand, this is foreign to me. You invaded something inside me the minute I saw you, and you haven’t left since.” His swallow was audible, his thumbs caressing my cheeks. “It fucked with my head to wake up and find you gone. And when you didn’t respond …”

“I know. I’m sorry, I didn’t know how to explain it without telling you about my dad. Only, I didn’t know if I could.”

His head tipped back, gaze scanning my face. “Yet you decided you could.”

“Yeah.” I smiled timidly, feeling like my heart might swallow me whole with its swelling.

“Do you …” He stopped, collecting his thoughts into words. “Do you think you could always tell me now?”

I didn’t know what he was asking, but I understood he was riding unchartered waters and tried to read between the lines. “Yes. Whatever you want.”

His sigh was loud and endearing. “Okay.” Nodding, he repeated himself. “Okay. Are you okay?”

He’d hurt me just minutes before. It scared me and made me realize that this was more than I thought it was, and that we’d definitely moved fast. I didn’t care, though. I wanted fast if it came with him. “More than okay.”

He picked me up, and I laughed, wrapping my legs around his waist as he carried me upstairs. “I washed the sheets.”

“Good.”

“The bed isn’t made yet, though.”

“I’ll help you.”

He set me down in his room. “I’ll go get them.”

After making the bed, we ate ice cream and watched an action movie. Toby fell asleep as soon as it started, but his head was on my chest, so I didn’t want to move him to turn something else on.

I could hear my phone ringing from the kitchen but continued running my fingers through his soft hair. His arm tightened around me at various points during the movie, as though the louder scenes startled him wherever he was in his dreams.

Something burned in my chest. A feeling I wasn’t sure if I should’ve encouraged to catch fire, or if I should’ve fanned the flames long before now.

It was probably too late. Yet even after the events of today, I wasn’t all that scared.

I should have been. Remembering the way my mom used to walk through life as though every bit of her happiness depended on my dad should have made me reconsider everything.

But not every situation could be compared to another. Nothing was ever remotely the same.

And so when Toby woke up and I watched his eyes change from panicked to relieved when he realized I was still there, I was glad I didn’t throw this away due to fear.

“Hi, Tobes.”

His smile was slow to crawl over his face but no less devastating. “Pip-squeak.”

After glancing around quickly, he looked up at me. “Fuck, sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

“Don’t be sorry. Wanna eat?”

His brows waggled, and he rolled, turning his head to rub his chin on my stomach. “What’s on the menu?”

“Food first.”

He huffed. “Fine.”

We made pancakes and ate them at the counter. I drizzled mine with maple syrup while Toby cut up some fruit to put with his. “I’ve been eating like shit. Makes working out quite the bitch,” he commented at my raised brow.

“And some fruit with that gigantic stack of pancakes is going to help?”

He mulled that over, taking the knife to the sink and washing it quickly. “Nah, but it makes me feel a little less guilty.”

We ate in silence, both of us famished. The way he ate had me watching in rapt fascination as I shoveled forkfuls into my mouth. He only stopped to gulp some water, then went right back to it.

“Is there a record for how quickly someone can eat a stack of pancakes?” I asked, pointing my fork at him. “Because you’d totally win.”

His cocky smile made me smile. “You have a brother.”

“Yeah, so?”

His head tilted, and he swiped his bottom lip with his thumb. “He play sports?”

“Hockey.” I took the last bite from my plate, feeling very full.

“And he doesn’t eat like his life depends on it?”

Thinking back to mealtimes at home, I realized that yes, he was right. To a certain extent. “Still not as fast as you.”

“I’ll teach him how the pros do it.” He got up, taking our plates to the sink and rinsing them.

His words made my stomach flip. If we continued this like I hoped we would, he’d eventually meet my family.

I had no idea why that thought terrified me. It wasn’t that I was embarrassed of him or my family. It was just … after finding out what I had that morning, well, it just was. I didn’t think they’d judge him or me, but I knew my mom. I knew she’d probably be a bit concerned for me. And I couldn’t blame her.

“Question,” Toby said, closing the dishwasher and turning it on. He dried his hands on a dish towel. “If you’d known about me before we got this far, would you still be here right now?”

It was uncanny how he knew where my thoughts had gone. I wasn’t fooling myself, though, or him. Toby was observant, and it made sense he’d want to know.

“Honest answer?” I asked, trailing my finger over the granite countertop.

He leaned over the counter, tilting my chin until I met his turbulent eyes. “Always.”

Swallowing, I nodded a little. “I don’t know if I would be.”

His mouth fell open, and I watched his tongue poke his teeth. “Right.”

Leaning away, he hung up the towel and rounded the counter. “I know that sounds bad, and who knows, maybe I would still be here. But I can’t say that for sure.”

He walked toward the stairs, and I followed, asking, “Are you mad?” He continued walking, and I grumbled under my breath. “This. This is why I don’t know.”

“What?” He’d stopped halfway up the stairs.

I climbed them all the way to the top, bypassing him and heading to his room. He caught my arm at the door, spinning me around to face him. His touch was gentle, but his expression was unreadable. “Tell me what you meant just now.”

“I meant, you walking away when I’m trying to talk to you is why I couldn’t tell you for sure if I’d still be here.”

My breathing was coming hard, and I stepped away from him. What was he doing to me?

“Pippa.”

“No, you need to understand. I don’t have some personal vendetta against people who suffer from a mental illness. I have personal issues with what I suffered, my brother suffered, and especially what my mom suffered due to my dad’s. So no, I honestly can’t say if this is something I would’ve wanted for myself had I known.” I stopped, taking a deep breath and slowly setting it free. “I’m sorry, but that’s the truth. Accept it or don’t.”

Toby stared for an agonizing heartbeat, then came forward, cupping my cheeks. “I’m sorry. I get … irrational. But …”

“But?” I asked when he closed his eyes.

He opened them, and I wanted to crawl into him, dissolve into his chest, and fill him with warmth at the vulnerable look in his gaze. “But you definitely want this now?”

Rolling my eyes, I sniffed, shoving him playfully. “Yeah. You played your cards right.”

“I didn’t—”

“I know,” I cut him off. “Just promise me something.”

Nodding, he said, “Anything.”

“Don’t pretend in front of me. Don’t ever make me believe something that isn’t true.”

His breath flew out of him in a rush, and then he was on me, pushing me down to the freshly made bed and undoing the buttons on my dress. “I promise.”

Mouths meeting, tongues colliding, and teeth clinking, we stripped, touching and breathing heavily until we couldn’t take it any longer.

Sinking inside me, he sat back on his haunches, staring down at where we connected with my ankles in his hands. My legs were spread wide, and the last light of day streamed through the blinds. Yet I didn’t feel insecure. I didn’t feel anything other than every sensation he was evoking in me.

“Pippa,” he rasped.

“Yes?” I breathed. He didn’t answer; instead, he brought my ankle to his mouth, licking my skin before dropping both to the bed and spreading my legs wider. Rough fingertips trailed down my thighs to my center. His eyes, though, never left mine, and his movements slowed, jutting forward and back like he could do this forever.

This boy, this man. The way he looked at me, touched me, and made me come undone. It was like nothing else I’d experienced before. And I realized then that all he was, every single part of him, made it this way. Made it something you’d be lucky to encounter once in a lifetime.

“Pippa, I want …” I met his gaze as he filled me to the hilt and lowered over top of me, resting on his forearms.

“What do you want?” At that point, I was certain I’d give him anything.

“I want to sink so deep inside you that I leave a permanent mark.”

His teeth plunged into my neck, and my breath flew out of me. “Does that scare you?”

“N-no,” I croaked.

“I want to be with you always. To crawl underneath your skin, live inside the life that runs through your every vein, and consume your every thought.” He kissed my neck. “Does that scare you?”

“No.”

Licking my thundering pulse, he rasped, “I want you to breathe me, to inhale to thoughts of me, and for you to exhale anything that stops me from overtaking every part of you. I want …” His breath stuttered, head rising to rest his forehead on mine. “To do to you exactly what you’ve done to me.”

My heart dissolved into ashes, my eyes pooling with tears. I couldn’t lie. Couldn’t hold back in hopes of protecting myself when it was too late. “You already have.”

“Honey.”

“Hmm?”

Looking up from the word search in the paper, Pippa’s eyes narrowed.

I merely shrugged, spooning more cereal into my mouth.

“I was talking about the word.”

“Of course, you were.” I glanced back down at the page, scanning the boxes. “There.” I pointed at it, then resumed eating.

“How do you do that?” she asked the paper as she lightly colored the box.

“Find the words? That’s what you’re supposed to do.” Pushing my bowl aside, I took the newspaper, separated out the sports section, and then laid it back in front of her.

“Smartass.”

“Don’t hate.” I licked my finger to turn the page when something hit my cheek, and I froze. Without moving, my eyes rose to find Pippa looking down at the word search, humming under her breath.

Picking up the soggy bit of cereal, I kept it on my finger as I read on about last Sunday’s game.

Her phone rang in her purse, but she didn’t move. When it started up again a minute later, I asked, “Who are you avoiding?”

“Everyone.”

Her bluntness made me snort, and I watched as she chewed on her thumb.

Pippa liked to do word searches and crosswords in pencil, giving herself a way out should she need to back up and erase something. Her favorite day of the week was Thursday, and I knew that because she always wore her favorite bright red ballet flats.

She liked her coffee served with a shit ton of sugar and never went anywhere without her mints. If she slept through her alarm, she swore like a drunken sailor who’d fallen overboard.

And she was most ticklish around her hips.

She was a puzzle but not a hard one. Yet in the brief time I’d known her, I discovered she was the greatest, most thrilling challenge I’d ever encountered in my life.

When her phone broke the silence again, she sighed and went to get up. Before she could, I reached over and swiped the soggy piece of cereal onto her cheek.

Her search for her phone abandoned, her feet slapped on the tiles as she scurried over to me. “Oh, no, you didn’t.”

I scanned the scores and the harsh review in front of me, acting oblivious. “Didn’t what?”

Pushing me back, she shoved herself between the table and my chest, staring me dead in the eye. “You’re kind of disgusting, Toby Hawthorne.”

I made my eyes bulge. “Me?”

She leaned forward, her nose butting mine. “Yes, you.”

The coffee on her breath and her scent invaded, making my heart beat faster. “What are you going to do about it?”

Her mouth was on mine as soon as I said the last word, her hands sliding into my hair. Yeah, she also had a real thing about my hair, making me rethink the upcoming trim I had scheduled.

Scooting the chair back, I tilted her head, my hand winding into her long hair while my other drifted up the back of her shirt, reaching around to squeeze her perky tit.

I lifted her top, pushing her back to slide my tongue down her throat. Her shirt needed off, so I got rid of it, my lips immediately falling to her creamy tits and sucking while my hands squeezed the soft, firm handfuls.

The sound of my phone ringing hit my ears, but I didn’t pull away. “Toby,” Pippa said, grabbing my face and plucking my mouth off her with a wet pop.

“What?” I asked through squished cheeks.

“Now your phone’s ringing.”

Groaning, I reluctantly let her climb off and walked to the kitchen counter where my phone was. “Any chance you could keep your top off?”

“That depends who it is.”

It was my dad. “Uhhh.”

“Sorry, Tobes.” She picked her top up, slowly pulling it on. “Where’s my bra? I need to get home.”

I didn’t want her going anywhere and told her so. “Answer your phone,” was all she said. “I’ll call you later.”

She went upstairs, presumably to get her bra. I smirked, wondering if she’d find where I hid it.

Sighing, I called my dad back.

“Jesus,” he breathed. “You need to text me if you feel like disconnecting. You know that.”

Cringing, I rubbed the back of my neck. “I’m not. I’ve just been …” Pippa came back down, and I scowled as she did her bra straps up then lowered her top. “Busy.”

My dad said something I didn’t catch. Pippa stood on her toes, pressing her lips to my cheek.

“One sec,” I said to the phone before dropping it to the counter with a clatter and grabbing Pippa’s hand. She came willingly, giggling when I rained kisses all over her cheeks, chin, and neck. “Don’t go.” I squeezed her to me, so hard she wheezed as I lifted her from the floor.

“I’ve got an assignment due, and you need to study. You’ve done nothing this week.” My arms let up a little, but I didn’t let go. “Toby.”

Placing a kiss on top of her head, I stepped away. “Go before I lock you upstairs.”

“Sounds kinky.”

My growl made her laugh, which only made my dick harden painfully. Just as she was about to leave, she called out through the house, “Oh, and FYI, the first place I looked was the sock drawer.”

Damn it.

“Kinky?” my dad asked curiously when I returned to my phone. Fuck, I should’ve muted that shit.

“You didn’t hear that.”

His loud belly laugh made me smile. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d heard laughter quite like that from him. “Okay, consider it wiped from my memory.” He cleared his throat. “Is this the reason you haven’t answered my calls?”

“Sorry.” I moved over to the table, collecting the bowls of cereal we’d had for a late afternoon snack, and took them to the sink to rinse. “And yes.”

“Her name?”

“Pippa.”

“Pippa,” my dad repeated thoughtfully. “Not just fun then, if I’m hearing about her.”

“Not just fun, no.”

“My, my. Do shut up, your information dumping is too extreme.”

I almost dropped the bowls while putting them in the dishwasher. “You’re not funny, dude.”

“Whatever.” He paused. “Serious then?”

“More serious than I’ve been before.” That didn’t sound right, so I went on. “She’s … yeah okay, I’m pretty far gone here.”

Some people might find talking to their parents about personal shit weird, but growing up, my dad was the only person who really understood me, so talking to him had always been relatively easy.

Quiet. “I see.”

I knew he was worried, and I didn’t want him to be. “I’m happy. I really am. And she knows.”

“She does, does she?” He blew out a rough breath. “You don’t need to treat it like a dirty secret, Toby. It’s more common than you think.”

I knew that, and it wasn’t some dirty secret. But it wasn’t something I’d ever walk around advertising either. “I know.”

“Okay. Well, when can I meet her?”

I paused halfway up the stairs. “You wanna meet her?”

“You’ll be home next weekend for Thanksgiving. Bring her along.”

I continued walking, grabbing the hamper of dirty clothes from my room and taking it downstairs to the laundry. “You don’t think it’s too soon?”

“Do you mean, do I think she’ll think that and get freaked out?”

I bit my lip, bending down in front of the machine and loading the clothes in. “Yeah.”

“Son …” He said something to someone in the background, his secretary probably, before he dismissed her and continued. “I can’t predict how she’ll react. I’ve never met her. But I’d really like to, so take a risk and ask her.”

Risks weren’t typically my thing. I turned the machine to the right settings. “You don’t think she’ll be worried about a marriage proposal soon after?”

He guffawed. “I think you’re overthinking it. Slow down, take a minute, and ask yourself. You know her, uh, well, I’m assuming.”

I choked back a laugh as I stood and poured some detergent in. “I’ll spare you the details. Go and get laid, Dad.”

He laughed again. We talked about the Thanksgiving game, and about how our neighbors at home installed security cameras because they were paranoid someone was stealing their new shrubs.

“It’s Gertrude,” Dad said.

I laughed, thinking about old Gertrude who lived six houses down and liked to steal things in her spare time. Things she thought no one would notice. “Of course, it is. We could’ve saved them some money.”

“Nah, I’m too curious to see how she’ll evade the cameras.”

We said goodbye, and I hung up just as Quinn walked in. “What’s up?” I tucked my phone into my pajama pants back pocket and followed him into the kitchen.

“Oh, you’ve surfaced from your den of … whatever the hell you’ve been doing in there.” He opened the fridge, grabbed a cold jug of water, and then reached for a glass from the cupboard.

“Don’t be jealous, dude.”

He scoffed, pouring himself a drink. “I’m not.”

I watched as he downed it in one go, then poured another. He was in gym gear. “Work out again?”

He downed that glass too before saying, “Needed to. It was either that or camp outside Daisy’s dorm. I swear”—he swiped a palm up his face and into his sweaty hair—“she probably thinks I’m a creeper of the worst degree at this stage.”

He’d finally broken it off with Alexis, but it had all exploded in a spectacularly bad fashion. That was what happened when you slept with your ex before actually breaking up with your current girlfriend. He was trying to make it right, though. “There are degrees of creepers?”

He nodded. “Uh, yeah.”

“Right. Noted.” Pondering that for a minute too long, I wondered if I’d come across as too creepy over the past month.

Maybe Pippa liked creepy. Shaking my head, I decided to ask her later and made my way out of the kitchen when Quinn sighed. “I’m happy for you, dude. Really.”

I grinned and flipped him off before running up the stairs.

“What are you reading?” I asked, looking up from my textbook.

Toby grunted, holding up a finger.

I waited, inwardly smiling at his sprawled out, naked form. He laid there like some worn-out, satiated Greek Adonis, rubbing at his brow with a slow finger as his eyes absorbed the words on the page.

We’d been naked for well over an hour, but the door was locked, and I needed to finish studying for a biology quiz tomorrow morning.

“The Disappearance of Susie Westmore.”

“I know that,” I said, rising onto my elbows so my boobs stopped getting squished. “I can read the title. I mean, what’s it about?”

“It’s supposed to be a mystery, though I think it’s more of a mind fuck really. I’ve read it loads of times.”

“Oh.” I crept closer on my elbows, and he patted his chest, lifting an arm for me to settle into his side. “A favorite then.”

“It is.” He paused a second. “Want me to read some to you?”

Wow. My stomach flipped at his soft-spoken question. “Sure.”

I settled half on him, half on the bed, my head on his shoulder and my fingers tracing the indents of his abs as he started at the beginning of the chapter he’d already been reading.

“The air breathed hot down her neck, as though it was a silent alarm telling her to be careful. Susie ignored it. How stupid, she thought.”

I snorted. “That was her first mistake, wasn’t it?”

He reached around my body to cover my mouth with his hand. “Hush, wait.”

I bit his palm, and he hissed. I licked it, and he groaned, then groped my boob.

“The street was quiet, save for the scampering of rats among the dumpsters, and a baby wailing somewhere in the apartments that loomed high above. The wind picked up speed, tossing leaves around Susie’s ankles.”

His voice, already capable of doing things to me, was decadent as he read in a soft timbre. My heart melted, oozing into my arteries and rendering my limbs limp.

“Just as she was about to reach her apartment, a faint whistle reached her ears. ‘Just the wind,’ she whispered beneath her breath.”

“Oh, bullshit. Wake up, lady.”

Toby grabbed my nipple between his thumb and forefinger, slowly pinching. I wasn’t a fan of too much pain in the bedroom, and he knew it. “Ouch.” I laughed, squirming. “Okay, okay. I’ll shut up.”

He released my nipple, his thumb soothing the sting with a few gentle brushes.

“Gone were the days where one could feel safe walking down a back alley in the slums of New Davensville. Susie thought it ridiculous to imagine a time where she once played outdoors with her friends growing up, long after the sun had gone to sleep. The world only seemed to get more dangerous. Frightening things happened every day. It was a stupid idea to take Bridgett up on her offer for a drink after work, knowing her car was still in the repair shop.”

“Of course, it was.” The book snapped closed, and he dropped me to the mattress, rising over me like a pissed off god. “Sorry?” I offered, my voice a squeak.

“Really?” he asked, a thick brow quirked.

I mulled over how to play this. “That depends.”

“On what?” His voice got lower, his eyes dragging over my bare chest.

“On what you’re going to do to me if I’m not.”

His laugh sent shivers attacking me. He ducked his head, shoving it into my neck, and blew a loud raspberry that had me pushing at his shoulders. His hands swept down my sides, stopping at my hips. Then his pointer fingers dug in, and I squealed, flopping side to side underneath him as tears of laughter leaked out of my eyes. “If you didn’t like me reading to you, all you had to do was say so.”

I stopped moving as soon as his hands did, wiping my eyes and breathing heavily.

“What?” The playfulness had left his features, making way for uncertainty. “Toby, no. I loved having you read to me.”

“Really?”

He didn’t sound convinced, so I grabbed his hand, directing it between my legs for him to see for himself. “Really.”

He stared down at me while his fingers explored, some of his dark hair spilling onto his forehead. “I think I believe you.”

“Believe it, baby.”

With a smirk twitching his lips, he removed his finger and brought it to my lips, his pupils dilating as he watched his thumb and pointer finger drag over them. “I love it when you wear what I do to you.”

“You really are filthy,” I whispered, my breath hitching when he settled between my legs, grinding himself into me.

“You like it,” he rasped, licking me from my lips.

I didn’t disagree.

I think I’d like anything, but only if it was with him.

“He asked you to go home with him after the game?” I turned the page of my book.

Daisy was getting ready for work, tying her hair into a messy bun. “He did.”

“And?”

Her sigh was overly dramatic, and I shook my head with a small smile. “And he can’t just boss me around. Take me home and make everything okay.”

Her hesitation was understandable, but we all knew what’d happen. No matter what he’d done, Quinn was making up for it, and she was crumbling slowly. “Yet you’re going to go.”

“Am not.”

I turned the page. “Uh-huh.”

I looked up when she stayed silent. She bit her lip, fidgeting with the buttons on her shirt. “It’s too soon. What if Alexis finds out?”

“Yeah, well.” Glancing back down, I made a face at my book. Daisy caught it, tossing a pen at me. “What?”

She gave me a look that said I was being unfair. “She’s probably still really upset.”

“She got what she deserved. Now, if she’d kindly vacate campus so we didn’t have to run into her uber tall, backstabbing friend self, that’d be great.”

Daisy tried not to laugh, but I could practically feel it bubbling out of her without even looking. “Pippa.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m sure she’s heartbroken.” Daisy walked around the room, and I tried to focus on my English reading, thinking about how I’d probably retain the text quicker if Toby read it to me instead. “That’s what happens when you steal someone’s boyfriend,” I muttered to the book.

“Heard that.”

“Not even sorry.”

Daisy sighed, plopping down on my bed and sending the highlighter and pen to the floor. Ugh. I reached down, slapping my hand around on the carpet until I found them, then hauled them up.

“You act like you’re lifting a brick.”

“Energy. I got none.” I got comfortable on my stomach again. “And thanks for picking them up, by the way.”

She checked her purse, huffing humorously. “No worries. Why no energy? Toby keeping you too busy?”

Giving up, I capped the highlighter and flopped down onto my back. “Kind of. We’re supposed to be taking it slow, right?”

Her laughter made me scrunch my nose. “Sorry, but what you’ve been doing isn’t slow,” she pointed out. “Toby wouldn’t know slow if his life depended on it.”

“Real helpful.”

“Aww. Come on.” She reached down, pinching my cheeks, her brown eyes filled with the vibrancy of her smile. “You can deal. Or you would’ve stepped off that sexy train by now.”

“Sexy train?” I mumbled as she straightened.

She waved a hand. “Whatever. How’s he doing? Now that you guys have talked about his depression.”

“I don’t know if he’s even got depression.” Letting out a breath that made my body sag, I admitted, “We haven’t really spoken in depth about it. As much as he says I can ask him anything, I’m …”

“Scared?” Her voice was soft.

“I guess.” I didn’t think I was, but despite feeling comfortable around Toby, more than comfortable, a part of me felt like it was waiting for the right time to ask this stuff.

“Does he take the medication you found?”

“I don’t know for sure, but I don’t think so.”

Daisy went quiet, then got up and put her shoes on.

“I should talk to him about it, right?”

“You already know the answer to that.”

Blowing out a raspberry, I said, “Why does being mature about things feel so sucky?”

Daisy opened the door. “When you find out the answer, let a girl know.”

The door closed behind her, and I stared up at the ceiling a long while, knowing I needed to finish reading two more chapters before tomorrow but not caring anymore.

My phone buzzed, and I reached over to grab it from the nightstand.

Toby: I’m so fucking bored. Send me a picture of your tits?

Laughing, I responded.

Me: Um, no. Where are you?

Toby: Team meeting. Wanna hang after?

I glared at my book, but I knew if I’d spent more time working on it rather than with a certain blue-eyed boy, I’d have finished with it days ago.

Me: Gotta study. Call me before bed?

Toby: :( :(

Me: xoxo

Toby: All right. If I survive.

I put my phone down and returned to my reading, trying to push thoughts of him from my head.

He called at nine p.m., and I smirked as I answered. “Grandpa. You in bed?”

“Almost.” He scoffed. “And you’re one to talk.”

He was right. “How was the meeting?”

A door shut in the background. “Same old. Watch some videos. Coach talks, and we gotta listen. Especially me.”

“Why especially you?”

He paused before saying, “I got in a pretty bad fight at play-offs last season. Let’s just say I’m lucky I still have my scholarship and place on the team.”

Frowning, I tried to keep my tone neutral. “What happened?”

Sheets rustled, and then he sighed. “What usually happens. I get riled up and lose my shit.”

“Toby,” I breathed. “That bad? Why?”

“I can’t control it. It’s like a switch has flipped in my brain, and I can’t turn it off until I unleash whatever’s bothered me so damn much.”

My heart cracked for him. “What set you off?”

“A player talking shit. They started it, which was my only saving grace when it came time to face the music.”

I didn’t think I was ready to ask, but I knew now was as good a time as any. Especially while we were close to the subject. “And the medication?”

“I don’t take it.”

A searing breath left me, and I tried to form a response, but all I had was, “Why not?”

“Look, I’m not new to this. I’ve struggled with it most of my life. Especially once I hit adolescence. As soon as my dad recognized the signs, the same ones he saw in my mom”—I winced at that—“he took me to the doctor.”

“It didn’t help?”

“I don’t know. I guess it did for a while. But I didn’t like it. I felt … different. Not like myself.”

My eyes shut. While I was glad he was talking about this with me, I felt terrible. For him. “And so you stopped?”

“Yeah. I stopped.” He laughed abruptly. “Thought I could get away with not telling Dad, and I did but only for a few months. So we tried something else. And the cycle continued until I entered high school, decided I wanted to play ball seriously, and stopped.”

“What did your dad think?”

Toby hummed. “He wasn’t happy, but we changed some things. My diet, routine, and he sent me to talk to someone for a while.” He paused. “That eventually stopped too. I feel fine most days, I really do. And so we’re at a heavy stalemate where he checks in a lot, and I make sure I let him.”

I couldn’t think of why I did, but I thought about Drew, and about any children I might have in future. “Do you think it’s hereditary?”

“Mental illnesses?” He cursed. “I really hate those words.”

“Not the greatest,” I agreed.

“I’ve heard it can be.” Another long pause. “You thinking about your dad in this case? Or my mom?”

I traced the stitching on my duvet. “Both, maybe. I don’t know.”

“You ever have moments when you think you …?”

“No,” I was quick to reassure. “But Drew, I don’t know. I think he’s fine. I think it’s probably just our dad leaving that’s affected him.”

“He acting up?”

Last I heard from Mom, no. “Nah. But he’s kind of reserved about how he feels at times.”

“I get that. Is he coming here after school?”

“I’m not sure. He’s a junior, but he hasn’t made any concrete plans yet.”

Silence ensued for a little while, and then he asked, “Do you think I might get to meet him? And your mom?”

I didn’t hesitate, or even worry about what that might mean. “Yeah. I think you just might.”

“Speaking of parents, there’s something I wanted to ask you.” Biting my lip, I hummed, waiting. “Come home with me for Thanksgiving?”

I was certain he could hear my smile; it was that huge.

We’d been skirting around the subject for days, and I was driving my mom mad by not letting her know if I was coming home or not. “Okay.”

A few people loitered in the corner opposite ours, but other than them, the cafeteria was vacant.

The upcoming game tomorrow had my nerves tingling and my feet dancing. My gaze zigzagged across the text on the table, unable to focus on any of it.

A foot landed on top of mine. I looked up from my notes to find Pippa staring at me. “Can I help you with something?”

Her lips shifted from side to side, pencil tapping the table. “Perhaps you can.”

The glint in her eye had my feet stilling, and I leaned over, curious. “Wanna go back to my place and let me study you instead?”

“Tempting, but I’ve got my period.”

“We can work around that.”

She smirked, eyes flicking over her shoulder when I waved at Robbo, who’d joined the takeout line.

“Do you talk to your friends about it?” she asked, turning back to me.

“About?” I knew what she was referring to but didn’t feel like talking about it.

“Your mental health.” She didn’t even flinch, just stared at me as though she was talking about the weather.

“Um, no. Not really.” I started rolling my pen over the table with my palm. Pippa watched the movement briefly, and I sighed. “No one would really care, Pippa.”

“How do you know if you haven’t spoken about it with them?”

“Quinn knows some of it. The rest wouldn’t give a damn.” At her raised brow, I conceded. “Okay, maybe one or two would.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” When I just shrugged, suddenly finding my notes more interesting, she continued, “I think it’s important, better, to only have a few good friends. Even just one. Rather than a herd of fake ones.”

Interest piqued, as always whenever she got all opinionated, my gaze lifted. “And why is that?” She didn’t answer right away, prompting me to say, “Pip, who hurt you?”

I’d kill them. Just kidding. Though I could always make myself feel better by torturing them in my head. Not even kidding.

“Just girls. High school. Nothing new, really.” She paused, her lip sliding between her teeth. “Actually, not just girls. Women, in general, can get cliquey. Which is fine, unless it’s not harmless, and the friendships are as fake as the nails they like to wear.”

“Cliques?”

She nodded. “I hung out with a cliquey bunch of girls through most of high school. It’s hard to feel like you can trust or rely on someone when they’re constantly talking crap about other people. It grew tiresome, but I grew used to it. Safe to say I wasn’t sad to say goodbye to them when I graduated high school.”

Seeing that the topic had gotten her worked up, her face flushing slightly, I waited quietly as she gathered her words.

“Shitty behavior warrants discussion, and God knows I’ll speak on that. But drama for the sake of drama, being mean to try to make yourself feel better, those were things I could never and still don’t understand.”

“You’re kind of really awesome.” I butted in, letting the words roll out of me, uncaring, for they were true. Pippa was like a red Skittle, the last one among a sea of bullshit flavors.

“As are you.” She smiled a timid smile, eyes meeting mine. “So give yourself some credit. You’re not only lucky to have a few good friends, but they’re lucky to have you.”

A push of breath set my shoulders loosening. “Pip, they wouldn’t understand.”

“Do they need to understand to care?”

My heartrate soared as I kept my gaze on hers, but I wanted away from the subject. “Where are your crappy friends now?”

“Who knows,” she said. “I think the fact that no one stayed in touch, at least, not with me, is telling enough, wouldn’t you think?”

Taking her hand, I lined my fingers up against her smaller, softer ones. “I think they missed out, but that’s okay.”

She giggled, and I absorbed the rare, musical sound. “Why?”

“Because now I get you.”

“You’re right,” she said after a few breaths, voice barely a whisper. “And that’s more than okay.”

The sweet scent of desperation and dreams permeated the crisp air.

Inhaling a shuddering breath, I watched as Burrows threw long down the field, cringing and clenching my fists in front of me as Willmore Creek’s defense snagged the ball.

Robbo was wide open. Why the fuck did he risk it? The kid was fresh. But he was decent.

I almost didn’t want to watch, but I was left with little choice.

Benched.

Coaches earlier words echoed in my head.

Liability.

Look at you.

You’ll show me your head is on right before I let you on that field.

How the hell he could tell was beyond me. Maybe the slamming of everything I could get my hands on gave me away. The locker, my helmet, and tossing one of my shoes across the room because my hands wouldn’t stop shaking long enough for me to lace it up.

Sure, I was anxious as fuck. Always was before a game against one of our biggest rivals. He couldn’t blame me for that. It was unfair. Total bullshit.

Two passes.

Fumble.

Fuck. No.

I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been benched.

My hands curled into my hair as flashes of a pale, sun-dried field filtered behind my open eyes. A field different from the one I was looking at.

I was as tall as my mom’s belly, which made it hard for me to see if she’d taken off like she usually would during one of my games or if she was flirting with Coach again.

Too many parents were standing in the way.

Ones who were actually interested in watching their kids play.

Where did she go?

Where did she go?

Where did she fucking go?

The whistle blew, smacking me from my head. I was up, not even waiting on Coach. Fuck him. Fuck that stupid flighty bitch too.

Watch me. Just fucking watch me now, Mom.

She’d be sorry she left if she ever saw me.

The lights blinded, the screams from the stands sending my blood roaring in my ears.

This. Everything this was. All of it. I lived for it. I never felt more alive, more like my true self, than when I stepped onto the field.

Getting into position, I stared down the opposing team, shrugging my helmet down as the defense got into position.

Quinn shot me a look when I glanced over, one that asked if I was all right.

I nodded, giving him a quick thumbs-up to appease him. He should have his head in the game instead of worrying about what I was doing.

We were playing like shit.

Time to turn this show around.

Thomas Graham stared me down ten yards away, his top lip curling.

The guy had hated me ever since I slept with his girlfriend at an away game last year. She came on to me. Pretty damn strongly, I might add. How the hell was I supposed to know she was taken?

It was their responsibility to say that shit. But if he wanted beef, he’d get it.

I couldn’t even remember her name. Stacey? Stacia? Shelly? Ugh, fuck. Who cared.

She didn’t want anything special from me.

None of them ever did.

Except Pippa.

Pippa. My gaze darted to the stands.

The whistle blew, and everything from that moment on became a fast-paced blur. Coach was bellowing like I’d never heard before. Graham and one of his teammates made sure to elbow me in the gut, and our defense couldn’t get their shit together to save our lives.

My head started to spin. I needed water. I needed …

“Heard you found a certain someone to constantly warm your cock, Hawthorne.”

My feet stopped, my breathing getting heavier as I backtracked to where Graham was. “Excuse fucking me?”

Shut up, you fucking idiot.

“You heard me loud and clear, asshole. What’s her name? Pippa? Pip for short? Rhymes with, hey Pip, come suck my dick?” He slapped his hands together, laughing. “Nice ring to it. I’ll have to try it out.”

It was his smile that really sealed my fate. I didn’t care what anyone said—a guy knew when he was being goaded. I knew, but there was no turning back now. Not for me.

We were on the ground within seconds, my fists flying at his chest and neck—anywhere I could do damage.

And all he did was laugh between grunts. As they pulled me off him, he took off his helmet and stood, expression now void of humor. “An eye for an eye, motherfucker.”

My rage intensified, becoming some kind of extension of me that I could only watch and not control.

I didn’t see my teammates frozen around me. I didn’t even know I’d started walking off the damn field until I heard Coach. “Hawthorne! Get your sorry ass over here. Now!”

He’d caused this just as much as Graham had. He was probably just looking for a way to get rid of me.

Fucking old prick.

Throwing my helmet to the ground, I kicked my way through drink bottles, yelling obscenities at the top of my lungs.

At that point, I knew I was fucked.

Game over.

Nothing else to lose.

Save for the unraveling pieces of my mind.

The noise was deafening as I ran down the stairs, muffled when I reached the long corridor, and loud again when I made my way past security and hurtled out the doors.

The parking lot was quiet with only a few people standing around. My eyes scanned the dark, trying to find his car beneath the dull orange glow of the streetlights.

It wasn’t there.

The past ten minutes felt like a car wreck in slow motion. Oh, how easy it was to think you’d be able to help someone, to stop them from self-destructing when, in reality, it happened in the blink of an eye.

The switch flipped.

Boom, done. Completely out of your control.

My hands tunneled into my hair, my breath coming in sharp plumes in front of my face as I tried to think.

Think, think, think.

Home. He would’ve gone home.

With trembling hands, I opened my purse, plucking out my phone and hitting his name.

It rang out. I tried again and again. Nothing.

I didn’t even call a cab; I just ran. Ran across the asphalt, over the grass, and along the pebbled paths that skirted between the buildings until I reached the other side of campus.

We were supposed to meet up right after the game. My bag was packed in my dorm room, waiting for me to grab it so we could drive to his dad’s place together tonight.

My lungs screamed. Exercise and I didn’t really go hand in hand, so as I reached his street, I slowed to a walk, trying to get my ragged breathing under control.

It felt like my chest was on fire. I’d like to think it was my body trying to cope with the sudden torture I’d just made it endure, but I knew it wasn’t only that.

It’s like a switch has flipped in my brain, and I can’t turn it off until I unleash whatever’s bothered me so damn much.

My feet slowed to a stop when I caught sight of his driveway.

His empty driveway.

An eerie quiet settled over the street, over me. The house was dark.

He wasn’t there.

After sitting on his porch for God knows how long, I finally dragged myself home. My phone dinged in my purse, and I pulled it out frantically, only to discover it was a text from Daisy. She was going home with Quinn for the weekend and said she’d be back Monday.

She asked me to let her know if everything was okay, which I couldn’t do.

Feeling oddly disorientated, I put my phone away once I reached our dorm.

Chatter filled the halls and rolled out from beneath doors. I didn’t know if it was about the game, about what had happened, or if everyone was just up late.

I didn’t care.

I tried calling him again as soon as the door shut behind me and tossed my purse on the bed.

No answer.

Shit.

Where would he have gone?

Where did one go after they’d potentially just ruined their career?

A bar was the first thing that came to mind, but he wasn’t twenty-one.

Maybe he had a fake ID.

Remembering the way he looked as he stormed off the field, I felt my shoulders slump. He probably needed to cool down.

Deciding there was nothing left for me to do right now, I took a shower and stared at my packed duffel bag until I passed out.

He still wouldn’t pick up his phone.

I sent him at least five texts and two voicemails before his phone shut off. I stalked the campus like someone who was looking to score, my eyes assessing everyone and everything.

It was quiet, being Thanksgiving and all, but I had to do something.

Sitting on my ass and letting the anxiety and helplessness drown me wasn’t doing me any favors.

When the sun tilted and afternoon arrived, I decided to give it one more try.

I pulled my coat tighter around me, blowing on my hands as I approached the townhouse. Again, no cars in the driveway. My heart almost bottomed out until I caught sight of the opened door swaying slightly in the breeze.

One of the neighbors was at their mailbox, watching as I approached. I smiled, hopefully putting them at ease.

“Toby?” I knocked lightly on the wood of the half-opened door, wondering why it was left open. Quinn was gone. Maybe Toby’s car was in the garage for a change.

Idiot, Pippa. For real?

All right, I felt pretty stupid for not thinking about that the night before.

I wiped my damp shoes on the mat and walked inside.

The silence that greeted me sent hairs rising on my arms and neck. It didn’t make sense, and any hope I had dashed away when I stalked through the kitchen, then moved upstairs.

His room was a mess.

Not chaos, just … messy. As though he’d come home and frantically grabbed everything he needed before bailing, judging by the note that stared back at me. I tugged it down from the door where it had been hastily taped.

A crazed laugh erupted from me, and then the tears came when I realized what it meant. What the state of this room and the feeling of something slowly rupturing in my chest meant.

He was gone.

In a daze, I walked downstairs and back outside, the wind drying the wetness on my cheeks.

The neighbor was still there, and I paused in the driveway. “Excuse me? Hi.”

He looked over; he was young, maybe around our age. “Uh, hi.” Squinting, he studied me as he wound up a garden hose. “Everything okay?”

Everything was not okay.

Everything was so far from okay I felt like I might be sick.

Forcing a wobbly smile, I nodded. “Did you see someone leave here?”

“Toby?” he asked.

Guess they knew each other’s names. “Yeah.”

He glanced at the front door, which I’d locked and shut behind me. “I think I heard his car leave a few hours ago maybe? Not quite sure.”

He wasn’t outside when he left then. “Right. Okay.” I kept walking, calling out a quiet thank you.

Our room was quiet and too damn bright. Daisy wouldn’t be back until tomorrow.

The thought made me panic briefly before I remembered she couldn’t do anything either. Quinn, though? He could try to call him.

Despite knowing his phone was off, I tried calling him one more time before admitting what I almost couldn’t bear to.

Not only had he left, but he’d left me behind, too.

Heartbreak bleeds into almost everything, turning what was once vivid and glossy to dark and flat.

Which was funny, considering I didn’t even realize I was in love.

Of course, the first time I fell in love, I didn’t realize until it was too late.

Ain’t life fun like that?

My mom called me a dozen times, wondering why I hadn’t called her over Thanksgiving. And when I finally answered, I couldn’t tell her for fear of breaking down into a sobbing mess all over again.

So I lied and said I had to study too much. Which was really only a half lie.

When exams arrived, I managed okay. But it was like half of me wasn’t there. As though I had to drag her sulking ass around with me while she kicked and screamed.

The sun continued to rise and set, and I wished I could hide beneath the comfort of my blankets, but life had a way of fucking with your heart’s desire. Finals were coming to an end, and I needed money.

I was halfway through my first shift after taking some time off when they walked in.

My teeth snapped together, but I maneuvered a smile into place. “Hi. What would you like?”

Burrows, I think his name was, scratched at his chin. “We didn’t come here for, ah, any ice cream and shit.”

When he just stared at me, his brown eyes pinging between mine, another guy whacked him across the back of the head. “Ow, shit. What was that for?”

“For taking too damn long. Get outta the way.” A guy with mocha skin pushed him aside and held his hand out over the counter. “Paul. I think we’ve met but not officially.”

Hesitantly, I reached over, letting him take my small hand in his large, warm one. He gently shook it, and I pulled mine back. “Right. Well, not to be rude, but what do you want?”

Quinn walked in a minute later, looking like he’d run the whole way here. “Guys, Jesus.” He stopped at the counter, sending me an apologetic look before turning to his friends. “She wouldn’t know where he is, or she’d have probably gone to see him. Lay off.”

Paul twisted his lips, then shrugged. “Worth a try.”

Burrows made a whining sound. “But she was like his girlfriend!”

Um, ouch. I tried not to let the use of past tense reach my chest. It did anyway, and I resisted the urge to rub it. I knew it wouldn’t alleviate it. I’d tried that before.

My shoulders slumped with my sigh. “Maybe he’ll come back after Christmas,” I suggested, yet not a hint of belief carried my words.

They all looked at each other, then at the ground. “Wanna come over with Dais tonight?” Quinn asked. “We can watch that show you like.”

I had to hand it to him; the guy really was sweet. He and Daisy had come back from Thanksgiving break together and continued that way. I was happy for them. I was just unhappy for myself. And that was okay.

“Nah.” They’d probably had enough of me hanging around and cutting in on their time these past few weeks. “But thank you.” I gave him a genuine smile, which he returned.

Scrubbing his hair, he turned to the guys. “All right, let’s leave her alone now.”

“But I think I want some ice cream.”

At Quinn’s look, which I couldn’t see thanks to his back now facing me, Burrows sighed loudly and waved over his head.

They walked out, except for Paul, who hesitated. “You’ll let us know if you hear from him?”

It was kind of awesome of them to care this much, but a part of me wanted to scream that no, if I heard anything from him, I’d be soaking all of it up for myself.

I knew I wouldn’t do that, though. With tears brimming my eyes, I nodded and said a croaky, “Of course.”

I watched him swagger out of the shop, then looked around at the bright interior, willing myself to feel something vibrant. Something other than murky gray.

I glared at the peppermint ice cream like it’d offended me. It hadn’t. I just didn’t feel like it.

Lately, I wanted vanilla. Something safe. Predictable. Didn’t take a genius to analyze that.

Tim appeared some moments later, stuffing papers on a shelf above the long menu board. “You okay now?” His moustache shifted as he spoke, always distracting me.

“Better, yeah.” I was, I guessed.

My empathy for Daisy and what she went through with Quinn and Alexis ran much deeper now. I mean, I knew it had to hurt to have your heart broken, but you never knew just how bad until it was your own tearing in two.

Tim studied me, then shrugged. “You’re a tough cookie. Eat some ice cream,” he said with a wink. “Everything feels less painful with ice cream.”

I laughed, partly from his accent, and partly because I wished so badly for that to be true.

Walking home, I kept my head down against the frosty wind. Sticks and bundles of leaves cracked under my boots. The noise soothed me in some messed-up way. It was nice to know how easily something could break. That there wasn’t anything wrong with me for feeling this way.

My dad called as I was heading upstairs to our dorm room. Well, it was more mine now. Once I’d hauled myself out of my self-pity cave, Daisy started spending most nights at the townhouse with Quinn.

So maybe feeling lonely and just at a loss for what to do had me answering. “Hi,” I said, unlocking the door and walking inside. I closed it behind me, dumped myself ungracefully on the end of my bed, then kicked off my boots.

“Hey, Pip.” His voice was warm.

There was no shame in missing someone even if that person had hurt you badly. And I did miss him even if I didn’t like to let that show very often. “You heading home for Christmas?”

“I am,” I admitted, which pulled a smile from me.

“Any chance I could convince you to see me?”

I fiddled with the strap on my purse, knowing I still wasn’t ready to meet his girlfriend. “I don’t think so, Dad.”

He was quiet, then asked, “Everything okay?”

To lie or not to lie? I decided to admit a partial truth. “I’m actually not, but I will be.”

Whistling pierced my ear. “Wanna taco ’bout it?”

I laughed, missing his lame dad jokes. “Not really.”

“Boy trouble?” When I didn’t respond, he sighed. “Come on, I never get to hear about boy trouble.”

“Because there usually isn’t any,” I said before thinking. Crap on a shit.

“Ohhh,” he said. “Tell me. I was a boy once. Maybe I can help.”

That made my frown turn into a scowl. “He’s not a boy. We’re kind of, technically, adults now.”

“Right. I sometimes forget that.”

Feeling bad, I changed the subject. “How’re you doing?”

He sighed but humored me. “Good. The quarry is taking on some new employees, which means things should start easing up a bit soon. This six days a week business doesn’t leave much room to do much else than work, rinse, repeat.”

What he didn’t say, but was trying to, was that it didn’t leave much time to see his kids.

He’d sold his business years ago, after he left us, to his friend George. George was a decent guy, and from what I knew, was taking good care of it. I was sure Dad knew that, so I never bothered informing him.

We talked about the new television show he was addicted to, and I agreed to look into it before I said I needed to shower and get ready for bed.

Staring at the screen of my phone, I watched the numbers climb past midnight, a loud, tired breath leaving me. The moonlight crept between the gauzy curtains of the window next to Daisy’s bed, sending blurry shadows dancing through the room.

I put my phone down on my nightstand, my hand falling on a piece of paper.

Knowing what it was, I yanked it out from beneath my phone, and switched on the lamp to see it better.

It was the drawing Daisy did a few months ago of Toby and me sitting on his couch.

I wondered where he was, what he was thinking, and how he was feeling. For as much as he’d hurt me, I knew he had to be hurting more. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have left.

Did he think about me? Lying in bed, maybe at his dad’s house.

My finger traced his sketched profile as a memory dawned. One of him saying he grew up nearby.

My heart jolted, my hand shaking as I carefully tucked the drawing into my nightstand drawer as an idea took root.

There was every chance he could come back on his own. Or perhaps he needed someone to remind him of what there was to come back to.

Either way, I wasn’t going to risk it.

The first day of Christmas break, I called Daisy with my half formed plan.

The other half depended on getting a car. Or at least someone to drive me.

That was where Quinn came in.

Except when I called, Daisy didn’t answer.

Groaning, I quickly got my stuff together. I dressed in leggings and a navy blue sweater dress, then hightailed it to the townhouse.

Quinn’s truck wasn’t in the drive, and I groaned, throwing my head back toward the early morning blue sky. “Why hast thou forsaken me?”

Still grumbling, I got my phone out and called Daisy again. She answered this time. “Hey! Sorry, I was in the shower earlier.”

I wasn’t even going to ask why she took a morning shower when she usually always took one at night. “That’s nice. Where are you?”

“Uh, the diner. Why?”

“Quinn with you?” I asked, already pivoting and walking back toward campus.

“He is. Pippa, what’s—”

“Don’t move.”

It took me another ten minutes to get there since the diner sat on the other side of campus near the ice-cream parlor.

Despite the frigid temperature, I was almost sweating by the time I pushed the door open, and immediately flagged down a waitress to ask for some water.

Daisy and Quinn were in the back, finishing breakfast.

How lovely.

“Hey, so I need a favor.” I swallowed, trying to catch my breath.

I didn’t do New Year’s resolutions, but maybe after Christmas, I should think about including a bit of exercise as one. After Christmas. Too much lounging around and good food to be eaten to commit beforehand.

It took Quinn a hot minute to look up from his breakfast burrito and realize I was, in fact, talking to him. “Okay, shoot.”

“Where does Toby live?” His frown made me groan. “His dad’s place.”

Hazel eyes widened. “You mean you”—he pointed at me, swallowing his food—“want to go find him?”

“Finding means he’s lost. He’s not. He’s probably just hiding out at home.” I paused, thanking the waitress when she placed my water down. “Presumably.”

Quinn seemed hesitant. “I know this has gotta suck. But he … well, he might not want to be bothered.”

My huge gulp of water went down uneasily, and I set the glass down carefully. I refused to let that sting as much as it should and turned to Daisy, laying on the heartbreak. She paused mid chew, turning to Quinn with bug eyes.

“Fine. I’ll see if I can get the address for you.”

“How?” Daisy asked.

Quinn looked around, then shrugged. “Shouldn’t be too hard. I’ll talk to Coach.”

Well, shit. “If you’d known it was that simple, why didn’t you grab it already?”

“Look,” Quinn said, his tone softening, “if he’s at home, which yeah, I know he would be, it’s because he wants time out.”

My fists scrunched. “He’s had time. Almost a month, to be exact. Time’s up.”

Quinn looked down at his plate, and I bit my lip. “So, ah, any chance I could borrow your truck?”

Quinn’s head shot up, and I batted my lashes, painting a cheesy smile on my face.

He scowled. “No one borrows my truck.”

I looked at Daisy for confirmation of this. She shrugged, taking a large gulp of her coffee.

“All right. I’ll go ask one of the other guys on the team.” Since they were worried, I knew one of them would let me. And some of them had to have cars here. My smile returned, and I dragged my finger over the condensation on my glass. “Callum’s got a sweet ride. Doesn’t he, Daisy?”

Daisy slapped my upper arm, and Quinn choked on his sip of coffee. “Okay,” he wheezed out. He thumped his chest before narrowing his eyes. “Well played, lady.”

Shrugging, I stole a strawberry from Daisy’s plate and tossed it into my mouth.

“One condition,” Quinn said. I raised my brows, and he continued. “I’m driving.”

“I can drive. I have a license and everything,” I said with forced enthusiasm.

“No, I want to come with.”

Oh. I looked at Daisy, who smiled. “I’d like to check on him. So count me in.”

I slouched back in the booth, any plan of a romantic reunion vanishing before I even got to imagine it to its fullest potential.

“Deal?” Quinn asked, crossing his arms over his huge chest.

Blowing out a resigned breath, I acquiesced, “Deal.”

They paid for their food, saying they’d meet me at the townhouse in an hour. I ordered some hash browns to go and glanced at the time, weighing how long it might take us to reach Glibson. My best guess was an hour. Tops.

“Hey.” Callum bumped my shoulder. “How you doing?”

Slightly startled, I glanced up, muttering an, “Okay.”

He studied me a moment before nodding and ordering his food as I stepped aside to wait for mine.

Daisy called. “Hey. Can’t get ahold of Coach Lawson.”

“Shit. Is there any other way to find him?” Chewing my thumbnail for a moment, I smirked. “Know any internet sleuths?”

I grabbed my hash browns, and Callum appeared beside me again, snatching the phone. “This about Toby?” He waited for Daisy to respond while my mouth hung open. “Don’t worry. I’ll get the address; we’ll meet you at the house.”

He hung up and passed me my phone.

“We?” I asked with a heavy note of incredulity.

“He’s my friend. Why wouldn’t I want to see what’s going on?”

Letting that sink in, I nodded once. “Touché. But how will you find out?”

“His dad is my dad’s accountant.” He pulled his phone out of his coat pocket, punching it with his thumb twice before pressing it to his ear. “And lucky for us, he works from home a lot.” He paused. “Dad, hi. I need a favor.”

“You’re not coming,” were the first words out of Quinn’s mouth.

Callum’s smirk was a little goading but mostly playful. “Worried?”

Quinn stepped forward. “Don’t even think—”

“Now, now.” Daisy forced a laugh, patting Quinn on the chest and giving me a smile that said, help me.

“Are we going to get our guy, or are we just going to stand around comparing the size of our dicks?” My glare swung back and forth between Quinn and Callum. “Let’s roll already.”

Daisy and I made our way to Callum’s car, and Daisy climbed in the back.

Quinn and Callum were still staring. Well, Quinn was glaring; Callum was just smiling. “Ugh, fine.” I moved around the car, sinking into the driver’s seat and stroking my hands over the leather steering wheel, checking out all the fancy gadgets.

I found the start button. “Oh, look. What does this do?” I pressed it, smiling as the Lexus roared to life.

“Hey, whoa!” Callum yelled.

I shifted into reverse and backed out of the drive. Albeit, a little too quickly, lurching roughly down the curb. Daisy was curled over in the back, wheezing from laughter.

Callum’s face was pale as he ran over and opened the driver’s side door. I shifted into park, blinking up at him innocently.

“You’re more trouble than you look.” Callum grinned.

“I disagree. Trouble requires too much effort. Can we go now?”

Quinn got in the back, I moved to the front passenger seat, and we started the drive in tense silence.

It was already midmorning. We’d be lucky to get there before noon.

“When’s the last time you heard from him?” Callum asked, stopping at a set of lights.

“No one has,” Daisy supplied.

Callum sighed, and I ignored the tensing of my limbs by reaching over to change the song. Jimmy Eat World filled the speakers, and Quinn groaned. “Come on. What is this?”

“Music, last I checked,” I deadpanned. “Hey, your girlfriend is in one of my classes.”

Callum’s fingers tensed around the steering wheel when he realized I was talking to him. “I don’t have one.”

“Mmmhmm. That’s what I thought, too.”

Twenty seconds ticked by. Thirty. “What did she say?”

“Oh, not much. Just wanted to make sure you and Daisy weren’t a thing.”

“You never told me that,” Daisy said.

“Why would you care?” Quinn asked her.

I looked in the side mirror in time to see Daisy glare at him. “I don’t. I’m asking because it was about me.”

“It was unnecessary. That’s why I didn’t tell you,” I said.

“A thing,” Quinn scoffed, making me smother a laugh.

“You need to quit it,” Daisy hissed.

“Yeah, Burnell. Quit it already.”

I raised a brow pointedly at Callum, who shrugged. “You’re a shit stirrer.”

He guffawed. “A what?”

“Someone who likes to stir shit,” Quinn advised a little too helpfully.

Callum grunted. “Whatever.”

Tugging on my seat belt, I turned to study him more. “Renee still gets to you.”

His jaw clenched. “I don’t fucking think so.”

“Renee,” I said.

His nostrils flared slightly.

I smiled. “Renee.”

He shifted in his seat.

“Ren—”

“Pippa,” Daisy admonished, reaching over the seat to slap a hand over my mouth.

“What?” I mumbled behind it.

I licked her palm, and she squirmed away. “Ew.”

I laughed. “You asked for it. And besides, I was making a point.”

Quinn chuckled. “Point made.”

“Let’s try a fun little game, shall we?” Callum asked.

I scanned his stormy expression, a muscle in his jaw still shifting. “I don’t know if I’m gonna like this game.”

Quinn snickered.

“What is it?” Daisy asked.

“Who can stay quiet the longest,” Callum said with exaggerated excitement.

“Ha!” I slapped my palm on the dash. “We’re not five.”

Callum grumbled something under his breath, then turned up the music and slammed his foot down on the gas once we reached the highway.

Our merry gang of awkwardness reached the town of Glibson right before midday. Callum navigated the streets, listening to directions as I absorbed the quiet residential neighborhood, trying to imagine Toby growing up there.

We passed a high school, then an elementary school, and I wondered if he attended them.

When we pulled up outside 8 Rosebud Circle, my excitement dimmed so quickly, I thought I might stay rooted to the smooth leather seat for all eternity. “Um, so, anyone have a game plan?”

No one answered. I thought we’d ride the high of coming to someone’s rescue until we at least got inside that blue painted door.

Someone peeked through the curtains downstairs, and my heart froze.

It wasn’t Toby. It was his dad.

He came outside, raising a hand over his brows as he squinted at the car we were all still seated in.

“We’ve been discovered,” Daisy whispered.

Callum opened his door. “Let’s do this.”

I wished I had his courage.

Callum approached Toby’s dad, shaking his hand. Mr. Hawthorne looked like an exact replica of his son, only twenty years older with gray sweeping his hairline. And perhaps that was why I hadn’t realized I was still staring like an idiot until Quinn opened my door, bending down on the lawn to meet my gaze. “You okay?”

Straightening in the seat, I unclipped my seat belt and gave him a short nod. “I don’t know. But we came here for a reason, right?”

“Right.” He looked down at the curb, then back to me. “He might not …” He sighed.

“Come back?” I offered.

“Yeah.”

“I know.” I blew out a huge breath, tucking my purse into the foot well. “But at least we’re trying.”

“Exactly,” he agreed after a prolonged moment.

After giving myself a mental kick in the butt, I got out of the car, closing the door behind me and soaking in the sight of the house. It was white with pale blue window trim and a matching blue door. Vines climbed over trellises, knotting and separating across the rendered paint of the exterior.

It was a big house, but it was still charming in a way that invited instead of intimidated.

“Pippa,” a voice knocked me from my observations.

Shit. I tried to subtly wipe my clammy palms on my dress as Toby’s dad walked over, obviously done with greeting everyone else. “Hi,” I squeaked, wanting to smack myself.

He was just a guy. A grown-up, very attractive guy, and the father of the young man who’d stolen something from me. I had half a mind to demand it back from his dad like I was a child who’d had their toy stolen.

“Liam,” he said, offering his hand with a soft smile.

I took it, nodding my head one too many times. “Sorry for just … showing up.”

“I guess he didn’t leave you much choice.” His blue eyes twinkled as he gently let go of my hand. He knew his son. Probably better than any of us did.

The knowledge had a dart of jealousy piercing my heart. Oh, come on. It’s his dad.

I shook my head. “No, he didn’t. He’s here?”

Liam blinked down at the ground. “He is. You’re welcome to come in, of course.”

“I’m sensing a but,” I blurted, mentally slapping myself.

Liam laughed quietly, though it quickly fled, breaking off into a sigh. Running a hand over his hair, he said, “He’s not … how do I put it? Himself right now.”

Ignoring the warning that had my stomach tightening, we all followed Liam inside. The house smelled clean and fresh, and I let my greedy eyes absorb every detail they could find.

The school photos in the hall as he led us into their living room and offered drinks. Of which I declined politely. The trophies lined up in a cabinet that matched and sat next to a dark oak entertainment unit. Magazines—sport related—underneath the coffee table. And only a few homey touches. Throw pillows, coasters—which made me smile—a knitted afghan blanket, and a plush gray rug covering the floors.

Liam returned with soda and water. “I’ll go get him.”

The fact that Toby would’ve known we were here and still hadn’t shown himself had all of us glancing at one another with mirroring looks of concern. I sat down next to Daisy while Quinn surprised me by sitting next to Callum.

I had a feeling that despite the way Callum liked to rile him up regarding Daisy, the two were still firm friends. But I couldn’t care too much for that right now. Not when thumping sounded from upstairs, and Liam returned, a pinched expression on his handsome, slightly lined face. “I’ll be in the kitchen if you need anything.”

He left, and I wanted to scream for him to come back with the apprehension that arrived as swiftly as he departed the room. I knew he was trying to make it less awkward, though. More comfortable for Toby, and so I kept my mouth shut.

Daisy took my hand, Callum cleared his throat, and Quinn sat completely still and silent.

He kept us waiting another five minutes before finally appearing, slouched against the doorway to the living room. My heart dropped and rose simultaneously.

His hair was longer, a mused disarray that matched his short beard. I went to get up, to go to him, when Daisy’s hand in mine tugged me back down. I was about to pull it away but then saw why.

He was staring at me with something burning in his eyes, something that didn’t ignite good feelings. “Toby,” I rasped out.

He swiped his thumb over his lower lip as he continued to pin me to the couch with his harsh gaze. Then, finally, he removed it to let it jump over everyone else. “Whose idea was this?”

“Toby,” Quinn cut in.

Toby’s laugh was rough, almost bitter. “Save it. Let me just say something real quick before you guys get on with whatever plan you might’ve had.”

My hand started to sweat, and I swore Daisy noticed, but she didn’t let go. Not even when I squeezed her hand painfully hard with Toby’s next words. “I’m here and not there for a reason, yeah? Surely, you’ve figured out that much.”

“Getting kicked off the team shouldn’t stop you from attending class,” Callum said, probably a little too harshly, judging by the way Toby’s fists clenched. He crossed his arms over his hoodie covered chest, his sweatpants hanging dangerously low on his hips.

I looked away when he caught me staring and smirked. I didn’t like that smirk; it wasn’t the one I was used to, but still, I couldn’t help the way it made my stomach flutter.

“Easy for you to say, Welsh, when you’ve still got your scholarship, don’t you?”

Callum’s mouth snapped shut, and he directed his gaze to the coffee table.

“Don’t be like this, man. Just … sit down. Tell us how you’re doing. We didn’t come here with any sinister plans,” Quinn said. “We just wanted to check in.”

Toby swallowed, then glanced over at me. His head lowered as he exhaled a ragged breath. “Well, you’ve checked. Not to be an asshole or anything, but you can leave now.”

He turned, walking down the hallway, and I let go of Daisy’s hand, my heart hardening with determination.

I followed him up the wooden stairs. He knew I was behind him, yet he didn’t stop me or turn around.

I had no idea what to make of that.

We reached his room, which was dark. The curtains were closed, and his bed a rumpled mess as though he’d been lying in it for days unmade. Glancing around quickly, I noticed everything else was tidy. No clothes lying around, no dirty dishes or empty food packaging.

Even at his worst, he maintained a level of control. “Go back, Pippa,” he said, stopping at his window and facing the closed curtains. “I’m sorry you wasted your time.”

“It’s not a waste of time.” I closed the door but stopped moving when he turned, hitting me with a flat look of disbelief.

“Don’t lie; it’s not flattering.” He smiled thinly, stalking forward.

My breath lodged in my throat as he picked up a piece of my hair, bringing it to his nose and keeping his eyes on mine. He inhaled deeply, slowly letting it out. His broad shoulders sagged a little with the action. “Pippa James. You never did tell me your middle name.”

“Come back and I will,” I whispered.

He tsk’d like I was a child who didn’t understand a damn thing. “You don’t get it. There’s nothing for me there. Not anymore.”

His words hit their mark with painful accuracy, digging grooves into my heart. But they were also a challenge. One he was goading me to meet. To tell him, me. I’m there.

I couldn’t give him the satisfaction of saying those words. Not when he already knew.

“Nothing?” I countered.

“Nothing,” he said, twirling my hair around his finger before letting it go. “That doesn’t mean I won’t miss those creamy thighs of yours. The way you whisper and whimper your pleas when we both know you want to scream them.” His hands grabbed my hips roughly, skating over them to my ass. He squeezed it. “The curve of your plump ass.”

“Toby, stop. What will you do now?”

“That’s the thing about backup plans. They only work if you had one in the first place.”

“Just come back. You don’t need a plan yet, but if you want one, I’ll help you.”

His usual buttery scent was faint, sweat and something else intermingled with it. As though he hadn’t showered in a while.

He ignored me. “Will you miss me, too?” His head lowered, lips drifting close to mine.

I didn’t answer him. He knew I did just by being here now. My body warmed from both frustration and lust. A throaty laugh whispered past his lips. “You’re turned on, aren’t you? I can practically feel it.”

“I’m not,” I lied. “I think you should really—”

“I bet,” he murmured, “you’re soaked.” His teeth skated over my neck, then dug in, hard enough to make me yelp. He slapped a palm over my mouth, then shoved his hand up my dress and down, slipping beneath the confines of my leggings and panties.

“Toby,” I panted, shoving at his chest. It was a futile effort, halfhearted at best.

His hand fell away from my mouth, fingers digging into my hair as his tongue licked a trail from my chin to my cheek, stopping at my ear to whisper, “I bet you’d let me fuck you.” His laugh was low, wicked, his fingers rubbing me slowly. “You came here on some dumbass rescue mission, which failed. And still, you’d let me inside you, right here, against the wall, with every asshole sitting downstairs underneath this very room, wouldn’t you?”

His words burrowed someplace deep inside, and I desperately tried to force them out. Because I missed him. Missed him so badly that no matter what state he was in, no matter what he said, I’d let him take what he wanted.

The realization had my hands pushing harder until he stepped back, sucking his fingers with a bored expression on his beautiful face. “Go the fuck home, Pippa.”

The tears arrived, but I held them back with every scrap of resolve I had left as I opened the door. I was about to close it behind me when I looked up. He was staring at the closed curtains again. “I knew you had your demons, Toby, and I know it’s got to hurt, but I never thought you’d let them hurt me too.”

I was almost halfway down the hall when he said, “You can admit it now. Admit freely that you would’ve run away screaming if you knew just how bad it would get.”

“No,” I said, my voice low. “You’re worth it all. And hopefully one day, you’ll see that. See yourself the way I do. The way those assholes downstairs do too.”

Through the thin sliver of a crack in the curtains, I watched as they all filed into Callum’s car. Pippa got in the front next to Callum. Was he in the habit of collecting people’s leftovers? The guy had some nerve showing up here if that was what he was trying to do.

My breathing shallowed at the thought.

There’d be other guys.

I’d have to get over it. Get over her. Eventually, she’d move on. She didn’t really want me anyway.

Someone else would touch her, kiss her, and sure as hell treat her better than I ever would.

But that seemed incomprehensible to me when I could still feel her sticking to my fingers, and her minty scent filling my room.

Callum did a U-turn, and right before they disappeared, Pippa glanced up at the very window I was looking out of.

Come back, I wanted to scream.

Come back. Stay here with me. Be here with me. Always with me.

I continued looking out the window long after they were gone until my dad’s knuckles rapped on my door. “Yeah.”

“You okay?”

I didn’t answer. It wasn’t only unexpected that they’d shown up here, but it was also fucking with me too much to even remember what day it was, let alone how I felt about it.

Though, when you’ve done nothing but lay around in bed for weeks on end, watching shitty TV and sleeping all the time, losing track of what day it was, was perfectly understandable.

In my opinion.

For hours, I’d sat in a bar after the epic-ness that was me throwing my career in the trash and setting it on fire. The bartender eventually took pity on me and discreetly handed me Jack and Coke for a few hours. Coach had called me in the next morning, telling me what I already knew, and that was it. Over.

I had to get away. I could no longer breathe easy on that campus the way I had before. What had been my happy place—a place of hope, dreams, and new beginnings—would now be tarnished with my failure at every turn.

And I had no one to blame but myself.

My dad had taken me to a new doctor the following week. More pills I didn’t take. More sessions I didn’t attend. Instead, I frequented an old friend’s house from high school and got high with him in his basement.

I thought I could appease him by taking the medication, which seemed to be working.

Too bad he didn’t know they were currently swimming through the pipes of the house instead of in my bloodstream.

“You know,” he said to my back after a minute, “your uncle left that inheritance for you.”

“Can’t touch it till I’m twenty-five.”

“Unless it’s for college.”

I turned then, scowling at him. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll just attend community college here and get a job or something.”

His sigh was full of defeat, and it almost made my chest hurt worse than when I watched Pippa drive away. Almost.

“You’ve got some great friends. Some great opportunities still available to you. At least think on it over Christmas.”

Christmas. Right.

He left before I could say anything.

Not that I was going to.

The drive back to campus was filled with the kind of silence no one dared to comment on.

It sucked, but I was still grateful they all tried with me, no matter how severe the defeat.

If I was being honest, I was shocked more than anything. The entire visit felt like a nasty dream that bordered on nightmare territory. And so I treated it as such by pushing it to the back of my mind in hopes it would fade away.

The campus was already half empty when we returned. Everyone was heading home for Christmas, which was the following week.

Daisy helped me pack even though she knew I liked things a certain way and therefore would prefer to do it on my own. I knew she wanted to help in some way, so I let her.

We hugged, and I swallowed back my tears as I watched her drive away in Quinn’s truck the next morning.

My mom picked me up at lunchtime, hefting my suitcase into her small SUV like it was full of feathers instead of bundles of winter clothes and two pairs of shoes.

“You’re too quiet,” she said once we hit the highway. “I don’t like it. Makes me feel like I’ve forgotten you.”

Laughing, I tried to think of what to say that would appease her. “I still need to go Christmas shopping.”

“Oh, good Lord. Your anxiety must be through the roof.”

“Tell me about it,” I muttered, rolling my head against the cool glass of the window. My breath clouded it, and I trailed my finger through the moisture, drawing a heart split in two.

For the whole drive back to Willowmina, I forced myself to recognize that broken heart as mine.

As if that’d somehow make it easier to bear.

“Where are you going?”

Drew stopped at the back door, glancing at me over his shoulder. “Shit. Anyone ever told you that sometimes you sound like Mom?”

He laughed at my offended look. I wiped it off, trying to act nonchalant. “Whatever. Answer the question.”

Sighing, he leaned against the doorjamb, holding the door open with his sneaker. “I was going to go next door.”

“Still seeing her then?” I asked as I opened the fridge, looking for leftover Christmas pudding.

“I am.” He was still there when I retrieved the pudding and set it on the counter. “You’re not going to say anything?”

I rolled my eyes. “Dude, you’re almost seventeen. Who am I to talk you out of doing what seventeen-year-olds do. I might sound like Mom.” I gave him a pointed look as I plucked a spoon from the drawer. “But I’m not her.”

“You okay?” he asked.

“Why does everyone keep asking me that?” I rolled my head back dramatically, shoving a spoonful of pudding into my mouth and groaning. “Oh, man. This always tastes better the next day.”

“Maybe because it’s been refrigerated, and maybe because when no one is looking, you seem like you’ve either got a bad case of constipation or like you might cry.”

My mouth fell open. “I do not.”

“Who is he?” His lips tilted to one side, and he pushed up the sleeves of his sweatshirt. “Do I need to pay him a little visit?”

That made me snort. “Cute. But he’s a gym junkie and a football player. Good luck with that.” The football player part made my nose and chest twinge.

“Ha. Gotcha.”

I jabbed the spoon at him. “You didn’t hear shit. Now run along and play and cover it before you smother it.”

Drew paled like he would be sick, shaking his head as he walked outside.

The door closed, and I took a seat at the counter, looking forward to some quality time alone with my late-night treat.

It’d been a whirlwind.

My mom’s family came to town this year, and every last one of them was outgoing in a fun-loving yet exhausting way. My grandma being the worst. I lost count of how many times she squeezed my butt, talking about how hers used to sit nice and high just like it.

“He needs to quit doing that.” My mom’s voice sounded from behind me, making me flinch. She walked into the kitchen, tying her robe and grabbing a wine glass from the cupboard.

“Doing what?” I tried to play dumb, swirling my spoon around the pudding bowl and hoping I didn’t get my perky ass chewed out for not getting a plate.

“The reverend’s daughter.”

I faked a gasp, and she paused in pouring herself a glass of red to give me a raised brow. With nothing left to do, I shrugged and looked down at the pudding.

“I mean the sneaking out.” She scoffed. “Like I didn’t know the first time he did it months ago.” I tried not to laugh—tried and failed. My mother had a way of shocking me every time I thought I had her pegged. “Oh, don’t even. I know all the things.”

“All the things?” It was my turn to raise a brow as she took a seat beside me.

After taking a hearty sip of her wine, she nodded. “Oh yeah. Just like I know someone has made my daughter leave teardrops on her pillow every night she’s been here.”

The next spoonful of pudding almost got stuck in my throat. I quickly grabbed her glass of wine, taking a huge mouthful to wash it down. “Hey!”

Wincing at the bitter taste, I handed it back. “I was about to die.”

“Sure, sure.” She took it back, then surprised me by getting up and fetching another glass. “Here.” She poured me half a glass. “Now spill.”

The fear of what she’d say or do evaporated.

Alcohol, a loving mother, and a fucking awesome dessert had me telling her everything. From the night I met him—to which she said she knew I stole that bottle of vodka, and then said I owed Drew an apology, due to him getting grounded for it—to the last time I saw Toby just days ago.

“He sounds like he has his issues, all right,” she agreed. “You love him, though.”

I swished my wine around, watching as the red marred the glass a dark pink. “I don’t know.”

“Oh, come on.” She got another bottle of red out, pouring herself another glass, and topping off mine. “No smart daughter of mine grows up with a father like hers and willingly puts herself in the same situation.”

She was right. Oh, Lordy Lord, was she right. “It doesn’t matter now.”

“It always matters. Always.”

“He’s not coming back.” Saying the words out loud brought a fresh round of tears to my eyes. Just when I thought I’d been so careful to keep them contained until I was on my own.

Her hand met my cheek, gently turning me to face her. “Does it matter any less? You’re allowed to love someone who’s hurt you.” She brushed some hair back from my face. “I should know.”

“I don’t know what to do,” I whispered.

Her eyes crinkled as her face softened. “You’ve tried. Now, it’s up to him.”

It hurt too much to keep talking about it, and I didn’t want to keep crying. “Can we change the subject?”

Her hand fell to her lap. “Drew quit hockey.”

My gasp was real this time. “No way.”

Mom nodded, taking a big sip of wine. “Yes way. Good grief, it was hard to keep that from your grandfather over Christmas.”

“He never said anything.” I took a sip of wine, cringing again at the bitter taste.

“I know. I don’t know what he’s playing at. He said he just doesn’t want to play, and that there’s nothing else to it.” She stared at her wine like it had some answers. “At times like these, I think having your father more involved would’ve been a godsend.”

“Do you …” I hesitated. “Do you think that maybe you should try talking to Dad about it?”

She looked over at me, laughing silently. “You know what? I think it’s time I should.”

That made me smile, and I pushed my wine away, lowering my head to my arm on the counter. A humming silence filled the kitchen as I stared up at my mom.

“Sometimes, you remind me of him. Of how he could’ve been.”

“Who, Dad?” I asked.

She smiled, nodding with tears glistening in her eyes.

“That’s okay?”

“That’s more than okay.” Her hand found mine, and my hand squeezed hers.

I’d heard people say that you’d do stupid things for love.

In this case, most would say returning to college and trying to get my shit together wasn’t stupid at all. But then, they wouldn’t know the motives that dragged my sorry ass back there.

My head was questioning everything I’d been doing since Pippa drove out of sight two weeks ago.

My heart, well, let’s just say it seemed to be running the show here. Which actually made for a nice change.

I got in late last night. Nothing like a last-minute decision to get the blood pumping. I was paying for it now, though, as I struggled to get my shit together so I could hurry to the registrar’s office and get my class situation figured out.

“Toby?” Quinn knocked on the half-opened door, his look of surprise mildly comical. “You’re here.”

“That I am.” I shouldered my bag, tossed my sweats into the hamper, and waited for him to step back so I could walk past.

“What … how?” he asked, following as I jogged downstairs.

“What, no claps on the back and glad to see you, buddy?” I stopped in the kitchen, ignoring the fact Quinn had just returned from practice, and grabbed the last apple from the otherwise empty fruit bowl.

“No. I mean, ugh, shit.” He rubbed a hand down his face. “Can we start again?”

I chuckled. “Don’t sweat it. I gotta get going, but”—removing my gaze from the tiled floor, I met his—“I’m sorry for, well, how I—”

“Shut up. Just glad you’re back. Catch up later?”

Giving him a genuine smile, I nodded and made my way out the door.

If the rest of the day could go that smoothly, this might be easier than I thought.

Famous last words.

The registrar said I’d probably need to retake some of my classes from last semester, and that I wouldn’t have a new schedule until tomorrow at the earliest.

Heading out of the building, I sucked in a deep breath, slowly setting it free as I stared up at the light blue sky with blotches of white clouds spread among it.

I knew it wouldn’t be easy to swallow my pride and head back to the place where my dreams shattered. But I needed new dreams, and right now, the only dream I had was currently walking toward the library with her phone to her ear.

Her back was to me, and I climbed down the stairs, walking behind a bunch of giggling girls who kept glancing over their shoulders at me.

Yeah, it’s me, I felt like saying. The guy who threw a massive tantrum and his career down the toilet.

Pippa turned, heading down the small tunnel that led to the front entrance of the library. I stood at the end, waiting until the girls moved on and Pippa had gone inside. Then I walked down to the glass windows, leaning against the cool brick as my eyes scanned for any sight of her.

Finally, they found her again just as she was taking a seat at a table upstairs by the windows that faced the quad.

Was she sad? I couldn’t tell. Not from my vantage point.

And hopefully one day, you’ll see that too. See yourself the way I do.

Her words had implanted themselves in my brain, making sure I knew they were there every second of every day since her visit.

I’m here, I tried to tell her without saying a damn thing. I’m back, and I’m trying to see it. Will that be good enough for you?

I had no idea if it would be. I could only hope. And hope was often a bitch with two left feet, wobbling around and teetering over, just when you thought you could finally rely on her to set things straight.

Pippa looked up, her head turning my way. And I didn’t know why, but I slunk back further against the wall. I couldn’t see her here, not like this. So I left, hoping to ignore everyone until I came up with a plan.

I’d just gotten off the phone with my dad, who said he’d look into getting my class situation sorted out by tomorrow, and was sitting in the corner of the quad behind a large hedge when they found me.

“Dude!” Ed hollered.

“We heard it, but we didn’t believe it,” Paul said, grinning so wide I thought his face might splinter.

They hefted me up off the seat, shoving me between them, ruffling my hair and slapping my cheeks—both sets of them. Assholes. And even though I hadn’t wanted to see them yet, I was happy to.

Actually happy.

Burrows had legitimate tears in his eyes as he gathered me to him and slapped my back, holding on a little longer than what I was comfortable with. “Missed you, bro. I mean”—he sniffed, blinking rapidly to hide the tears—“we didn’t know what happened to you. You just god damn disappeared.”

“I went home,” I said.

He rolled his eyes. “Duh. But shit, at least leave a note next time.”

Ignoring the image that sailed through my mind of the note I’d hastily slapped to my door, I forced out a snicker.

Callum pulled him away from me, laughter in his dark eyes. He gave me a curt nod, and I nodded back, letting him know I was all right.

“Coach blew his rocket, man. You should’ve seen it—” Burrows was cut off by a swift slap to the back of his head from Paul. “The fuck is everyone always hitting me for?”

“Because your parents clearly didn’t do it enough to you as a child,” Ed commented dryly.

Burrows swung his arms out to his sides. “Uh, yeah. That’s child abuse, brother.”

Everyone laughed, then I was dragged to the cafeteria where they bought me lunch and filled me in on all the gossip I’d missed.

I wasn’t one for gossip, but these guys liked to talk about anything and everything. As long as their lips were moving, I guess they felt connected to one another.

The only person I wanted to feel connected to was two buildings away, and I was unbearably uncertain if she’d still want the same.

When they left for class, I headed to her dorm, my hands clenching inside my jean pockets as I kicked at the tiny weeds, pacing back and forth below the steps.

No one dared to talk to me. Not one of the girls who strode by. Not even the ones I could’ve sworn I’d slept with in the past.

That was fine by me, though; I guess I didn’t look too approachable with my hood on and my feet constantly moving.

I started up with my mental list once more.

I needed to start hitting the gym again. And to possibly look into playing some ball outside of college, as my dad suggested.

For now. Everything was just for now. A way to keep moving. I needed to keep moving.

“Toby?” Daisy’s voice reached through my tangled thoughts, and my head snapped back, my feet freezing.

“Hey.”

She tilted her head, gaze swinging from me to the doors of the girl’s dorms and back again.

“Quinn said you were back.” She gave me a timid smile. “Good for you.” I was about to apologize when she continued, “Pippa’s upstairs. She sent me a text earlier. Want me to let you in?”

“Please. I have some apologizing to do.”

She held up a hand at the top of the steps. “Don’t waste any on me. Save them for Pip. Third floor, last door on the right.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

The door clicked open, and she gave me a quick hug, one that shocked the hell out of me but also made me smile, before running down the steps.

“Wait, you’re not going in?”

She called over her shoulder, “Nah, I’ll be at your place.”

The smile stayed on my face—maybe hope was on my side after all—that was, until I reached their room.

“Hi,” Pippa said. So apathetic, as if she was talking to a salesman instead of the guy she allowed inside her most intimate body parts.

I stepped forward because, fuck this shit, she belonged in my arms, not carefully situated on the other side of the doorway like we were newly made enemies.

She pushed me back, and although the touch was soft, the force of her gaze almost made me stumble. “No. What do you want? Are you just visiting?”

“Not visiting at all. I’m reregistering.”

A dark brow rose. “Really? I thought there was nothing to come back to. I’m glad you’ve decided a decent education seems to be enough.”

I almost laughed at her venom-coated words but bit my tongue. It didn’t matter how she spoke to me. She could speak to me in Parseltongue, and it’d still get me heated. Even if it hurt, I deserved it, and I said as much, which made her scoff.

“Hurry this up. I’ve got important crap to do.”

“Like what?” I leaned against the doorframe, absorbing every detail of her beautiful, flushed face.

“Like watch some trashy TV on my laptop while eating a whole bag of Doritos.”

“Can I join you?” I bit my lip, and her eyes narrowed as they dropped to my mouth.

“No, you can’t. Again, what do you want?”

“You.”

Her eyes rolled, but I saw the way her hand shook before she gripped the edge of the door. “Not happening. I’m really glad you’re back, but you’ll have to understand if I’m a little pissed off with you. Later.”

Shoving a hand out, I stopped her from closing the door. “I’m sorry, Pip-squeak. I really fucking am.”

She froze, peering at me from behind the door. The vulnerability in those luminous greens slammed me in the gut harder than a flying tackle to the ground.

“Then tell me. What actually made you decide to come back?” Her long lashes feathered open and shut. Open and shut, open and—“Toby?”

My courage crumbled. I couldn’t tell her the exact moment I’d started to have a change of heart, not without possibly ruining everything. “What you said before you left.”

Her eyes stared through me, then they dropped to the floor. “That was weeks ago, Toby.” She went to close the door again, but my palm was still flat against it.

“I fucked up, I’m sorry. But I can’t—”

“You can,” she said. “Just spit it out. You say you’re back for me, but why? What the hell happened between when I last—”

“I tried to fuck someone else.” Her face turned ghostly white, and I hurried to add, “Tried being the keyword here. I couldn’t do it.”

She laughed this strange, acid-filled laugh. Like she thought this was some fucked-up joke. I kind of wished it was. “And what, you want me to thank you for that? To feel special because your conscience wouldn’t shut up long enough for you to let your dick get to know someone else?”

Stumped, I wanted to say so much yet was unable to form a coherent thought, let alone word, so I just stood there. “It didn’t get that far,” was all I could seem to bumble out.

“Fuck off, Toby.”

I stared at the now closed door, nodding to no one. “So that went well.”

“Thank you. Have a fantastically awesome day,” I said with probably way too much cheer.

The guy gave me a weird look, straightened his glasses, and got the hell out of there with a stumble in his step.

As soon as the door shut, I slumped against the counter, dropping my head to my forearms. I didn’t get nearly enough sleep last night. And a Pippa without enough sleep was a Pippa in a foul mood all day long.

Look at that, she was also a Pippa who referred to herself in the third person.

Rolling my head from side to side, I tried to wipe away Toby’s parting words.

It didn’t get that far.

Didn’t get that far, as in, he touched her all over then decided to stop? Or didn’t get that far as in, he let her do the same to him? Or maybe, didn’t get that far could’ve meant she’d …

Ugh. No. No matter what, whether we were together or not, it still hurt like a motherfucking baseball had lodged itself in my chest.

I ought to string him up by the balls and let him hang upside down for all eternity.

Scoffing, I muttered to the napkin stack, “Didn’t get that far. Just far enough to make me want to puke all day.”

The door opened, and I sighed before righting myself and plastering a smile on. “Hi—ya, no. We don’t serve crazy here.”

“That’s funny, could’ve sworn your boyfriend had been in here once or twice before. Or is he your ex, now?”

She didn’t.

Nope, she fucking well did.

Alexis flipped her dark hair over her shoulder, scanning the rows of vividly colored ice cream before saying, “Sorry, that was probably too harsh.” Her sigh was worse than the one I’d let loose a minute earlier. “I heard about his epic meltdown, though. And well, you’ve flipped me the bird one too many times, so I couldn’t resist.”

Raising my hand slowly, I gave her the old bird again, which only made her laugh. “Cool, you still don’t like me. But I just want a shake. I’m sick of having to avoid this place.”

“And I wanted my friend’s heart not to be broken by you. Twice. Oops, still happened. Guess who helped her pick up the pieces both times? Me.”

“Finished?”

I drummed my chipped nails over the counter. “Not nearly. Tearing up someone’s art? What kind of she-monster are you?”

Oh, yeah. Before Quinn and Daisy finally reunited over Thanksgiving, this piece of work trashed our dorm room. Well, Daisy’s side of it. Granted, she’d just found out Quinn, her boyfriend at the time, had slept with Daisy, but still. I failed to have any sympathy for her, not when she was the one who sank her hooks into something that wasn’t hers in the first place.

“She-monster? Really?” A perfect brow went up.

Lifting a shoulder, I said, “If the shoe fits.”

“He was my boyfriend,” she said slowly as if I were short a few brain cells and couldn’t quite comprehend.

I gave her the same treatment. “He was hers first.”

We both stopped; laughter bubbled up my throat, until finally, I couldn’t keep it contained any longer, and it burst free. The stupid drama with her, Daisy and Quinn, Toby’s return, and the thrashing of my heart—I felt like I was having a moment of insanity.

Alexis was laughing too as I doubled over the counter and swiped tears from my eyes. “Well, that escalated quickly.”

“Tell me about it. Cookie dough, low-fat milk, please.”

With a small amount of reluctance, I made her shake and took her money. Before she left, she glanced over her shoulder, standing by the door. “For the record, Daisy was my friend, and I loved them both.” I merely blinked, suddenly too exhausted for words. “But just like her, I guess I loved him more.”

She left, and I felt like a deflated balloon. So I probably took out some of my own inner turmoil on Alexis just now, but she had hurt my friend badly. One couldn’t forgive crimes of that magnitude too easily.

Tim appeared, and I winced, wondering if he’d heard any of that.

“If you’re going to keep scaring away the customers, perhaps you should work, um, how do I say this, out of sight?” He gestured to the doorway that led to the small hall where the staffroom, office, and storeroom was. “Back there.”

He was smiling, always good natured. I still felt bad, though. “Sorry.”

Shaking his head, he said, “Get some ice cream and cool off.”

He cleaned out some of the cupboards, taking stock of what we needed while I rinsed some empty tubs.

The rest of the afternoon dragged, and I busied myself with more cleaning before making myself a drink, then dug out the word search book I kept hidden under the cash register.

Tim was in his office again, and I was coloring the word look, half asleep, when a finger landed on the page. “Happenstance.”

That baseball climbed up into my throat as I slowly lifted my head, the pencil falling from my hand. Toby picked it up, turning the book and coloring the word before resting it over the cover. “Beautiful.”

“Go away.”

“Not a chance.” His smirk made me want to slap him. “See, this is the one place you can’t kick me out of. Well, you could leave, of course. But that would cost you.”

“It’d cost me less than having to spend time with you would,” I volleyed back.

He slapped a hand down on the counter, making my eyes pop. “Ah-ha! There it is.” Then he was rounding the counter. “You care about me … a lot. You possibly even love me.”

I stepped away from him. “Employees only back here, asshole.”

He didn’t stop, taking measured, slow steps toward me with a glint in his eye, and soon, I was plastered against the wall. Thankfully, he stayed a few feet away, still staring at me with that all-knowing smug look of his. “On New Year’s Eve, I went to a party with a friend of mine from high school.”

“Shut up, I don’t want to hear it.”

“… didn’t want to, but thought fuck it, why not? Nothing else to do but mope around hating life and feeling sorry for myself.”

“Toby,” I hissed quietly.

“… she was blonde, fucking gorgeous, and all. Over. Me.”

My nostrils flared, my fingernails literally itching to scratch him until I drew blood.

He watched, delight clear and bright dancing in his gaze. “I followed her into a room at the end of a long hallway. The music was pounding, and I had a headache. I’d smoked a few joints and drank way too many beers, but I knew what I was doing to a certain extent. She took her clothes off, sat on my lap, and attacked my mouth like a wild dog that hadn’t eaten in weeks.”

Tears sprang to my eyes. What in the ever-loving hell was he playing at?

“But when she unzipped my pants and stared up at me with unfamiliar brown eyes, some of the fog cleared, and I remembered. Remembered that nothing, not even that, would feel the same without you, and then, well, I did my pants back up.”

Relief invaded my bloodstream, a cool and icy reprieve from the molten lava that’d been ready to explode throughout my entire body just moments beforehand.

I reached over and grabbed my milkshake, taking a long sip to try to calm down. “You’re still an asshole,” I mumbled around the straw, wondering if I should throw the remainder of it at him. In the end, I chose not to waste it.

“I’ll never disagree with that,” he said, stepping closer. “But even when I wasn’t with you, it still felt like a betrayal. All kinds of wrong. And I didn’t realize why until then.”

I lowered the shake, not sure what he expected me to do or say. I knew he wasn’t himself; I knew he didn’t cheat on me. We weren’t together. But no matter the size of the betrayal, it was still just that. And I was starting to wonder if what we’d had was even worth it.

“It gets loud, inside my head. But when you’re around, it’s a little quieter. More bearable.” He scratched at his brow. “I guess, what I’m doing a shit job of trying to say, is that I love you.”

I blinked. “What?”

With laughter lighting up his face, he dropped the most explosive of all bombs. “I’m in love with you.”

The milkshake fell from my hands to the floor, disbelief carrying my words on a harsh exhale. “Shut the fuck up.”

His head fell back with a loud roar of laughter, and then he was gathering me into his arms. He didn’t kiss me, just held me tightly, his hand diving into my hair to hold my head to his chest. “I’m sorry. Don’t think for one minute that any of the bullshit I said to you was anything other than bullshit. You’re here, and so this is where I want to be. I just needed time to wallow in everything else I’ve lost.”

My head felt like it might explode, and I had no idea what my throbbing heart might do.

“Toby,” I mumbled into his clean smelling jacket.

“I haven’t lost you too, have I?” He pulled back, staring down at me with hopeful eyes, and I caved.

With one look and a few words, I collapsed. All my hardened edges dissolving into dust. “It’s Evelyn.”

It took him a few seconds. “Your middle name?”

I nodded, then his lips dropped to mine, brushing softly, sweetly while he murmured words I couldn’t capture, thanks to my pulse screeching in my ears.

After a minute, I broke away. “I need to work.” A glance at the floor had me saying, “And clean this mess.”

“I’ll help.”

“I’m still mad at you.”

“I know.”

We spent the next few minutes trying not to knock heads as we cleaned up my spilled shake from the floor. Still on the ground, I sagged back against the wall, smirking as I watched Toby serve someone who came in. Surprisingly, he didn’t mess up until it came time to open the register.

Jumping up, I punched in the code, and the girl’s gaze darted between us, her mouth hanging open as she took her change from Toby. “Uh, thanks?”

She walked outside much the same as the guy I served at the start of my shift did. “People are weird.”

“Right?” Toby agreed, taking my hand and bringing it to his mouth. “When do you get off?”

“Half an hour.”

He looked around, taking note of the empty parlor before gripping the side of my face and capturing my lips with his. “Workplace hygiene laws,” I whispered. “We’re breaking them.”

“I’ll break anything that stops me from getting you,” he said with a seriousness that sent my heart racing.

After clocking out, I said goodbye to Tim. His smile said he knew about my visitor, yet he didn’t comment.

Toby walked me home, trying to goad me into conversation. I didn’t want to talk, though. I just wanted to soak in the feeling of his hand holding mine and having him walk so close to me that I could breathe him in and feel the heat from his body. Let it soothe the ache that’d been present since he left.

He let me be, and with a slow kiss at the stairs to my dorm, he said he’d see me tomorrow.

Feeling giddy with relief, I walked up the stairs, ignoring Renee and her friend as they raced down them. I wanted to float away on this feeling. The feeling of having a piece of yourself returned and any sorrow you felt from its absence erased.

The following week, everyone had settled back into their routine.

Including me and Toby. Which wasn’t something that went unnoticed. “Are you going to tell him?” Daisy asked as we walked down Main Street toward the diner.

“Tell him what?”

“That you love him.”

I stopped on the sidewalk, turning to face her with something pinching at my heart. “I …”

“You don’t have to admit it for me to know.” She stopped. “It’s obvious. I mean, what guy could take off and still manage to worm his way back into Pippa James’s heart?” She scoffed, kicking at a small twig with her Converse. “Pretty much no one.”

She had a point. “You make me sound like I’m only a pushover for him.”

“Aren’t we all pushovers when it comes to love?”

Again, she had a point. “We need t-shirts made. We got run over by assholes and still managed to love them.”

“Ha! She admits it. Finally.”

I laughed, slapping at her arm, then linking mine through hers as we continued strolling to the diner.

Toby and Quinn were already at a booth in the back, talking about the game playing on the flat screen hanging from the ceiling.

Something inside me locked up at seeing Toby watch it, knowing it had to be hard for him.

But when he looked over at me, his smile unlocked it.

He patted the seat, winding his arm around my shoulders as I removed my scarf and set my purse down.

“Missed you,” he whispered hotly into my ear, pulling me to his side. I turned, offering him my lips, which he kissed before I took them away to pick up a menu.

“What are we having?”

“Toby needs to watch his figure. He’s let himself go these past few months,” Quinn said with a smirk.

Toby flicked a toothpick across the table at him but agreed. “Yeah. It’s steak and salad for me.”

“I think I’ll have the same.”

Toby squeezed me. “You don’t need to do that.”

“I know damn well I don’t. I just feel like eating some steak.”

We ordered, Quinn and Daisy making googly eyes over a text Quinn’s mom had sent her.

“What is it?” I asked Toby.

“Chickens. Baby chickens.”

My hand reached over the table, snatching the phone to see for myself. “Oh, my freaking God!”

“Aren’t they adorable?” Daisy whisper-squealed.

“So fluffy.”

“I’m so pissed they hatched after we left.”

Our drinks arrived, and I handed the phone back.

“Are you okay?” I asked Toby once we were halfway through eating, and I noticed he’d stopped.

“More than okay.” He leaned forward, kissing my temple. “Just tired. I started back at the gym this week.”

I raised an eyebrow, looking him up and down. “But you’re still so fit. Taking some time off affects you that much?” He didn’t look any different to me.

“Oh yeah,” Quinn said.

“Thanks for the compliment, beautiful.” Toby poked me between the eyes, then returned to picking at his salad. “The weights, the lap times, all of it. It’s easier to maintain if you keep at it regularly. But after almost two months?” He shook his head, his cheeks puffing as he blew out an exaggerated breath. “Brutal.”

“You’ll get there,” Quinn reassured him.

We were all quiet when Renee walked into the diner, heading straight for the takeout line.

“Reckon she comes here much?” Quinn asked. “Thought it’d be a little …”

“Less fancier?” Toby supplied.

“Yeah. Than she’s used to.”

“I’ve seen her in here a few times,” Daisy said, shoving a fry into her mouth, still staring at the baby chickens on her phone. I knew she was thinking about drawing them and probably would as soon as she got her hands on her sketchpad.

“She’s never said anything to you?” I asked Daisy, trying to keep the surprise out of my tone.

Daisy shrugged. “Nope.”

Funny. After what Renee had asked me, I was sure I could’ve pegged her as the type to warn others away from Callum. That’d teach me to wear my judgy pants too damn high.

Toby nudged his head toward the door not long after I’d finished eating. “Wanna go?”

At my nod, we said we’d catch Quinn and Daisy later. Toby threw some money on the table, and I scowled as he shoved mine down my top.

I went back to the townhouse with him. I hadn’t stayed over since he’d been back, but tonight, I didn’t stop him when he continued to the stairs once we got inside.

He undressed me carefully, his eyes and fingers leaving tingling trails over my every curve. He undressed himself as I laid on the sheets of his bed, staring up at him with my thumb between my teeth.

“You still haven’t said it,” he said, climbing over me, his breath mingling with mine.

I ran my nails up his back, dipping in and out of the ridges and valleys of his muscles.

“Said what?” I knew what he meant, and although I wanted to say it, I kind of wanted him to sweat for a while longer.

His brows met, muscles tensing. “That you love me.”

“I know.”

His look of confusion almost made me laugh until he asked, “Does that mean you don’t?” His eyes squeezed closed. “It’s okay if you don’t. I know I need to earn—”

“I love you. But I hate how much I love you. So you need to be careful.”

Those eyes flashed open. “What?”

“You need to be careful with how you treat that love. It might be unconditional, but that doesn’t mean you can do what you want to me. I can love you, but I can also choose not to give that love to you if you mistreat it.”

He fell on top of me, his hardness trapped between my stomach and his as he squeezed me to him. “I promise. I promise I won’t.”

“Okay,” I relented, my tense body softening under his weight.

“More than okay,” he whispered, his tongue licking at my neck, and his hand snaking between our bodies to rub me until I saw stars and his name was a hoarse, near-silent cry from my lips.

Rising a little, he positioned himself. A deep, guttural groan filled my ear as he filled me.

“Always. What I feel for you is beyond love. It’s vast, endless, and it’ll always hold me prisoner.”

I’d never cried while having an orgasm before. But that night, I did.

The tears tracked down my cheeks in silent ribbons as he whispered promises into my hair.

Promises I was trusting him with everything I was to keep.

The next morning, I was racing downstairs to get back to my dorm and ready for class when my phone wouldn’t stop ringing.

I knew it was my mom. Not only from the ringtone, but because I hadn’t returned her calls this past week. And after our little heart to heart over Christmas, I knew she’d be worried.

On the way to class, I stopped near the fountain in the quad, watching the water rain down in silver lines that created rainbows when the sun shone on it at just the right angle, and listened to my mom air her worries.

“Could’ve been dead in a ditch somewhere. Or in jail. I don’t even know what they’d feed you in jail, but it wouldn’t be sufficient. You’d need me to sneak you supplements. You might almost be nineteen, but you’re still not done growing.”

“Mom,” I tried to finally interject.

“It’s the news. They show us nothing but horrible, heart-wrenching news nowadays. I can’t even tell you how many times I’ve had to change the channel. It costs a fortune to see Barbara every second month. I’m going to have to dip into your inheritance on account of all the gray hairs you and your brother are giving me. If they’re caused by you, you’re paying.”

“I love you, Mom.”

She shut up then, a labored, heaving breath smacking into my ear. “Then you need to answer the god damned phone. Even if it is only to tell me you’re busy before hanging up.”

“Right. I’m sorry. But he’s back.”

Silence. I glanced around the quad, noticing more and more people had disappeared. More silence. “Mom, I have to go before I’m late.”

“He’s back? Toby?”

“Yes.”

“Call me after class. I expect a full report.”

“You’ll be at work,” I reminded her and started walking toward the science building.

“I don’t care if I’m climbing the Eiffel Tower. Call me.”

She hung up, and I laughed quietly, slipping my phone away before speed walking to class.

“Coaching?”

“How cliché,” I drawled, folding a sweater and stacking it carefully on the pile.

Pippa hummed. “Commentator?”

I gave her a look that said, “Really?”

She laughed. “I think you’d be great at that.”

I wasn’t great at anything. Anything but football. That was the problem.

A laugh gurgled out of me at the thought of trying to commentate a game. I’d likely swear and rage at everyone on the field. Same thing if I were to coach a team.

“What’s so funny?”

“Hmm? Oh, nothing.”

Pippa’s hands smoothed over a fuzzy pair of socks before she carefully folded and rolled them together. It was soothing to watch her tiny hands and the way she did things. Some would call it tedious. A waste of time.

Not me. I loved it in a way that made my dick twitch every time I watched her.

“Maybe something that doesn’t have anything to do with sports.” She leaned against a dryer, tapping her bottom lip with a slender finger. Her nails were painted again. A cherry looking deep pink. “You like to read.”

“I also like to fuck. Should I become a porn star, then?” I winced as soon as the words carried themselves out of my mouth. My chin dropped to my chest. “Sorry. I didn’t mean for that to sound so …”

“Honest. So shut up.”

Leaning forward on the dryer I was sitting on, I pulled her between my knees, looping a pair of her leggings around her waist to keep her there. “You make me so damn hard.” I bumped her nose with mine, listening to her breath escape her and feeling it warm my lips and cheek. “But you also make me feel so damn lucky.”

“Kiss me,” she said.

I did, fitting my lips lightly to the perfect curve of hers, as though that was where they were always meant to be. Footsteps sounding on the stairs had her stepping away, but no one came in.

“How long do you think those have been sitting in there?” Pippa asked, closing the dryer and carefully putting her folded clothes inside the basket.

Eyeing one of the washers behind her filled with wet clothes, I folded her leggings and scrunched my nose. “I don’t think I wanna know.”

“Before we got here, right?”

Nodding, I reached over to put the leggings in the basket. “Yeah, so don’t let that conscience of yours get the better of you. There’s no saving them from stink-land now.”

“So gross,” Pippa muttered.

Grinning, I picked up a green cotton pair of panties with tiny turtles on them, waving them in front of my face. “Slow and steady wins the race?”

“You’re too funny, Tobes. Give them here.”

I pulled them away, gently folded them in half, then in half again before relinquishing my hold on them. She tried to hide her smile by ducking her head, but I felt it and saw it. Pippa’s smile was like a blast from a hand dryer with the way it warmed me.

“What else are you interested in? You like figuring things out, how they work. What about—”

The warm fuzzies vanished. I jumped off the dryer. “Pip, no more talk of it today.”

Fishing her ringing phone from her pocket, she groaned. “It’s my dad.”

“Answer it,” I said, grabbing the basket and carrying it to the door.

She did. “Hey …”

“Toby?” a girl asked as I walked up the stairs to Pippa’s dorm, washing in tow.

“The one and only,” I said dryly, giving her a half smile as I kept on climbing the stairs. No wonder Pippa had nice calves despite not working out. Those stairs would be a bitch. The girl giggled behind me, but I ignored her.

I got another strange look from a passing girl in the hall and whispers from an open doorway. It wasn’t like we were at some boarding school. I’d heard of dudes coming in the girl’s dorms all the time.

Setting the basket down on Pippa’s bed, I looked around her room. It was easy to tell which side belonged to Daisy. If the sketches and paintings on the wall above her bed didn’t give it away, then Pippa’s cleanliness compared to the other side would.

Daisy wasn’t a slob, but eyeing her pencils that laid discarded on the nightstand and the pile of textbooks sitting half exposed beneath her bed with a thin layer of dust coating them made me feel a little twitchy.

The only thing on Pippa’s nightstand was hand cream, a lamp, pens and pencils, and a dog-eared puzzle book. Her pens and pencils were all in a jar, sitting primly next to the lamp.

It made me smile.

“Next weekend?” Pippa said, voice a little high pitched as she entered the room. She closed the door with her foot before kicking off her shoes. “I don’t know.”

Her clear anxiety made my eyes stay glued to her, and I raised a brow when she looked at me, but she only sucked her bottom lip into her mouth. Then the thumb chewing started. Her tell.

“What’s up?” I asked when she hung up.

Her slim shoulders slumped as she dumped her phone on the end of the bed.

“My dad wants to meet up next weekend.”

She flopped backward onto her bed, making it bounce a little. Pippa threw her limbs and body around as if she didn’t give a damn what anyone thought of her. But her body had a mind of its own, saving itself from her attitude with graceful sweeps and delicate movements of rebuttal. “You don’t want to?”

“I don’t know what I want.”

I sat down next to her. “When was the last time you saw him?”

Her tongue slid over her teeth as she squinted at the ceiling. “Last summer before I came here.”

Leaning down, I laid my head against the side of her stomach and joined her game of ceiling staring. The channels in my mind quieted to a vibrating hum.

A balm. Being with Pippa was like dousing flames that’d burned too long. I needed it almost as much as I loved it.

“You’re nervous?” I asked, my eyes connecting the popcorn bulges in the ceiling with invisible lines.

Her stomach lifted my head slightly as she inhaled. “He’s had this girlfriend for I don’t know, over a year or something now? He wants me to meet her.”

“Right. And you don’t want to.” Not a question. We both knew the answer.

“I really don’t.”

“But you want to see your dad and do something that might make him happy. Even if a part of you still thinks he doesn’t deserve it.”

Fingers reached over to tweak my nose. “Stop dissecting me.”

“Never.” I grabbed her hand, nipping her fingers before resting it over my thumping heart. “Would you feel better if I came with?”

“What?” She paused. “You want to meet my dad? You haven’t even met my mom.”

“Well, I’d have liked to meet her first, but if you need me, say when and where. I’ll be there.”

She didn’t say anything for a long moment. “You’d … you’d really do that?”

This girl. Didn’t she know that I’d do almost anything for her? “The fact you even need to ask that means I still have some serious convincing to do.”

Her laughter filled the room, my ears, my heart, making it thump faster beneath her hand. “You feel that?” I asked quietly.

“Your heart?”

“No,” I said, flattening her palm over the beating organ in my chest. “Your heart.”

“Wake up,” a voice sounded.

I swatted it away with a hand, shifting to sink my face deeper into the pillow.

“Toby, come on.” Pippa, my tired brain registered. “It’s almost lunchtime.”

“Don’t care,” I mumbled. “Tired.”

Silence. Blissful silence. I drifted, floating on delicate notes of sleep before they could flee.

Then cold air hit me.

“Oh, damn. I honestly didn’t think you’d sleep naked when I wasn’t here.”

Jesus Christ. “Cold.” I frantically reached for the blanket, and a giggle invaded my ears.

“No, you don’t. You’ve missed two classes. Get up.”

What? Rising onto my elbows, I parted my stubborn eyelids and blinked several times until Pippa’s features started to make sense.

“Hey,” she said, a soft look on her face as her fingers threaded through my hair.

I laid back down, snatching her wrist and tugging her to the bed. The blankets fell to the floor, and she fell over my bare chest. “Hi,” I said. “Missed you.”

“You’ve also missed class, in case you didn’t hear me before.”

“What time is it?”

“Almost twelve. When you didn’t respond to my texts, I got worried. Daisy came over and let me in.”

That made me feel like fucking shit. “Sorry, I’m just …” I held in my exhale, because morning breath, and let a half lie slip. “Tired.”

It was exhausting, though. I was drowning in coursework I still hadn’t caught up on and doing my best to avoid the guys. I didn’t know if I was ready to hang out with them as we once did. Not without the constant reminder of what they had that I didn’t anymore.

My own fault or not, it still crushed me every time I saw the banners on campus, heard whispers and excited chatter about games, and saw the students and players wearing team colors.

Pippa’s eyes sank deep into mine, her pretty mouth curling to one side after a moment. “Maybe you need to get out for a while.”

“Yeah? And what exactly did you have in mind?” With a mind of their own, my hands skated down over her back, lifting her skirt for me to skim my fingers over the soft fabric covering her ass. “Because I kind of like staying in.”

Her hair fell, whispering over my chest and causing the hairs there to rise, as though every part of me needed to meet every part of her. “I know you do,” she said, her voice a temptation all on its own. “There’s a party tonight.”

Pippa sat up, rolling over to grab The Disappearance of Susie Westmore from my nightstand, flicking to where I’d left the bookmark last night. “You don’t do parties,” I said, hoping she didn’t lose the page. I shouldn’t have bothered to worry about it because I’d read that book more times than I could remember, but I just did.

“I never said that,” she said, swinging her gaze to me. I raised a brow, and she conceded. “Fine. So they’re not my favorite thing to do, but I don’t hate them. And with you”—she placed the bookmark in and set the book back down on the nightstand—“it might even be fun.”

“I’ve got a shit ton of studying to catch up on.” A yawn rumbled out of me, and my arms stretched over my head. I reached for the duvet, pulling it back onto the bed and diving beneath it like I was a little kid again, hiding from the dark in an even darker but safer place.

“We don’t have to go,” Pippa said, lifting a corner and poking her head beneath the dark. “I’ve got a research paper due next week anyway.”

“Wanna study-fuck again?” I asked, staring up at her.

“That didn’t turn out so well.”

“I disagree,” I said. “Best study session I’ve ever had.”

“We didn’t study,”

“Again, I disagree. Biology, baby.”

Her laughter rang out, crisp and musical. I gazed up at her, letting it fill my mind and drown out the static that was growing louder. “Come here.”

“Oh no, you don’t.” The bed dipped as she got off it, tugging the duvet away.

“Quit. It’s fucking cold.”

“Suck it up, buttercup. You have one more class you can still attend today. Up.”

“I don’t think so. I’m sick.” I forced a pitiful sounding cough. “My girlfriend keeps letting me get exposed to the weather.”

Pippa groaned, walking out of the room. “I’ll see you later then. Gotta go or I’ll be late.”

“Excuse me?” I sat up, incredulous. “You’re forgetting something.”

“I’m not kissing you. You haven’t brushed your teeth.” Her footsteps on the stairs echoed down the hall to greet me in farewell, the front door closing eight seconds later.

Grabbing the duvet, I wrapped myself up like a burrito, and stared at the wall until I passed out again.

“Hang on. You said you liked free porn,” Paul commented.

“I do. Real-life free porn tops every kind of porn. What I’m saying is, watching free porn on the internet is like banging with no rubber. Feels great until you get hit with the repercussions.”

“Such as?” Paul asked, sipping his beer.

Burrows glared at him. “What do you mean such as? Viruses. Duh.”

“Aren’t STDs classified as diseases?” Quinn said, demolishing half a slice of pizza and chewing. “You know, being that there’s a D in that little acronym.”

“Exactly.” Paul jabbed his beer toward Quinn in thanks.

“What the hell kind of virus can you get from fucking without a rubber?” Robbo asked, tossing a log onto the fire pit.

“The ‘oops, I’m pregnant’ one,” Ed cut in, laughing at his own joke. Which was the only reason everyone around him started laughing too, including me.

“If we’re getting technical, certain types of STDs are viruses. Genital warts, for one.”

“Yeah? Know from experience, Hawthorne?” Burrows grinned.

“I’ve never fucked without a rubber, so I’m sorry to disappoint you there, buddy.”

Burrows waggled his brows. “Except Pippa, here, right?”

My stomach turned. I had no issues with their dumb conversations. I actually found them quite amusing. Until it involved me.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Toby said, his arm tightening around me. With a pat on my ass, he gestured for me to get up from his lap before heading over to chat with some guys on the back porch of the house.

“He’s doing okay?” Daisy leaned over and asked as I took Toby’s seat.

I peeled my eyes from Toby, taking a small sip of beer. “Yeah.”

I didn’t want to lie, and he was doing okay. But was okay enough? I guessed it had to be.

“Just hit subscribe. So much better. None of those ads popping up with grandma asking if you’re down to fuck.”

“Do I want to know what you’re talking about?” Callum asked, joining the circle with two beers clutched in his arm and an open one in his hand. He grinned at me and Daisy, taking a seat next to Quinn.

“Grandma porn,” Quinn said.

“Genital warts,” I supplied, watching Toby light a smoke and laugh with some guys I didn’t recognize.

“Rubbers and pregnancy.” Robbo shrugged.

“Christ,” Callum said, coughing into his beer. “I need some better friends.”

Daisy laughed, and my eyes narrowed. I’d never seen Toby smoke before. Not going to lie, it was hot from a distance, but I had to kiss that mouth later.

“Back in a few,” I said, standing and righting my long knit cardigan. “Bathroom.”

“Want me to come with?” Daisy asked.

“I’m good,” I said, leaving my beer and walking toward the porch. The winter-dried grass crunched below my boots, and the worry gnawing at my stomach intensified as I climbed the back steps and found no sign of Toby.

Not wanting to stand around feeling like a goober as I continued to stare at everyone for any sight of him, I sighed and went inside the house. The change in temperature had me shivering and wondering if we were crazy for sitting outdoors when it was the dead of winter.

“Hey, there. You’re in my psych class, aren’t you?” some guy I vaguely recognized asked, two cups of beer wobbling precariously in his hands as he teetered.

“I think so.”

“Wanna drink?” Beer sloshed over the side of one cup, and I cringed as it hit the floor.

“No, thank you. I’m looking for someone.” I stepped around him, ignoring whatever he said after that. The loud bass coming from a zillion speakers in the living room matched the thumping of my heart as I started searching rooms upstairs.

Some doors were locked, and others should’ve been locked, my eyes widening at the sight of a threesome.

I closed the door, blowing some hair off my face as I exhaled.

“See something interesting?”

I turned, locking eyes with Renee, who was leaning against the wall a little ways down the hallway. “I guess you could say that.”

She laughed, but it broke off as she stared at the ground.

“Callum’s here,” I felt compelled to say and had no idea why.

“I know,” she said.

Okay. “Is there a bathroom up here?” Maybe Toby was in there.

“If you’re looking for Toby, try the den downstairs.”

Heat crawled up my neck. He was my boyfriend, so technically, I had every right to wonder where he was, but I didn’t want to seem controlling. “Thanks. I do need the bathroom, though.”

The door opened, and a familiar blonde walked out. “God, it’s a mess in there. Like, I legit think some asshole peed all over the wall.”

Renee smirked at me. “It’s all yours.”

“On second thought, I’m fine.”

“I’ll meet you downstairs,” Renee said to her friend, who shrugged and righted her short skirt as she walked down the hall.

“Is that the one who blew your ex?” I asked.

“I knew someone was listening.” Her smile turned venomous. “So I turned up the volume, so to speak.”

“Not true then?” I raised a brow.

“Oh no, very much true.” Opening her clutch, she pulled out a stick of gum and pushed it between her white teeth, chewing as she rummaged for something else. “I’ve got some great friends.”

“Why are you still friends with her?”

Plucking out her lip gloss, she swiped some over her lips and rubbed them together before answering. “No one wants to be alone. And at least I know what I can expect from her.”

“That’s sad, dude.”

Renee tucked her lip gloss away and snapped her clutch closed. “Life is sad. Better to know your enemy well than not know a friend at all.”

I didn’t know why I said what I did next; whether it was out of pity or if I genuinely thought it was a good idea. “You should hang out with me and Daisy some time.”

Her scoff had me regretting the invite instantly. “With the girl who kissed what’s mine?”

“She didn’t know you or anything about you. She wasn’t your friend and didn’t owe you a damn thing.”

Renee bit her lip, but then remembered she’d just prettied it up and quickly smoothed a manicured finger over it. “Thanks, but I don’t know if that’s such a great idea.”

“Suit yourself.” I eyed the bathroom, my nose crinkling, then headed for the stairs.

“Pippa.” I turned my head over a shoulder, but Renee only shook her head. “Never mind.”

Dodging a couple making out on the stairs, I navigated them carefully, heading down a long hallway. I didn’t know where this den was; perhaps I should’ve swallowed my pride and asked because I couldn’t find it.

Giving up, I decided to go back outside and wait for him there. I was stopped on the porch thanks to some beer splashing onto my arm and on my boot. “Fuck, sorry.”

Mike grabbed a roll of paper towel from the barbecue and started patting down my arm. With a small laugh, I grabbed the towel from him. “It’s fine. I can do it myself.”

“I’m sorry. I swear I just turned around, and then, poof, you were there. Like a car crash.”

I laughed harder, smiling up at him. Even in the dark, I knew his cheeks were tinged slightly pink. “Thanks, that’s sweet.”

“No, it’s really not. Shit.”

His exasperation made my smile grow, and I grabbed his hand on my arm, pausing his flustered rubbing. “Seriously, it’s fine.”

He stared down at me, his eyes blue and his tense features relaxing. “Okay. I’m still sorry.”

“Trying to worm yourself between another taken girl’s legs?” Toby appeared behind him.

Mike’s jaw clenched as he turned around. “I spilled beer on her. By accident.”

Toby’s smirk sent my blood freezing. “So that meant you had to touch her, right?” He stepped closer, and my heart rate increased at his lowered voice.

“It wasn’t like that.” Mike stood tall, unrelenting against the storm brewing around Toby.

“Is that what you said to Welsh, too?” Someone made a keening sound, and I saw Renee at the door with a hand over her mouth. Mike stared at her too, worry filling his eyes. Renee shook her head, backing up a step and almost tripping over the threshold.

“Toby, come on,” Mike said with an awkward laugh.

“Okay,” Toby said, swinging wide and catching Mike in the jaw. Shocked, I screamed. And as Mike bent over, clutching at his jaw, I saw Callum standing below the steps, watching.

“Don’t just stand there,” I yelled at Callum.

Mike rose and pushed Toby backward. I couldn’t even get around them to get help.

Fine then. I shoved my way between them as Callum called my name.

Too late now, asshole, I thought. Pushing Toby back a step, I wrapped my arms around his waist, feeling his chest heaving. He looked down at me, jaw tight with anger. The cloying smell of marijuana clung to his shirt, and his eyes were bloodshot. Sighing, I said firmly, “Toby, you’re overreacting.”

He stared down at me while I felt the weight of everyone else’s stare on us, but I didn’t move. After a minute, he circled an arm around my back and walked us toward the stairs. “You touch her again, and I’ll make sure you end up shitting out all your pretty teeth.”

Walking into the yard, I glared at Callum, who sent me an apologetic look. I flipped him off and pulled myself away from Toby.

“Everything okay?” Daisy asked.

“I’m going home,” I told her.

“What happened?”

In answer, I pointed at Toby, who caught my hand. I removed it, grabbing my purse and making my way back toward the house.

“Wait up,” Daisy said.

“I’ll call a cab. Don’t worry.”

“Pippa,” Toby said, his fingers curling around my wrist as I walked through the house. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

A dry laugh bubbled out of me. “What is wrong with me?”

He halted me on the steps out front. “Dick for brains just had his hands all over you, you were smiling at him and shit, and you’re mad at me?”

There was zero point in arguing with him right now. I knew that, yet the desire to put him in his place took over. “He spilled his fucking beer on me, tried to help wipe it up, and I laughed because it was awkward and I felt bad for him. Happy?”

“Far fucking from it,” he said bluntly.

“Funny, I thought getting high would’ve helped with that.” I forced a fake smile. “Maybe you didn’t do it right. Go on, go try again.”

“Fuck you, Pippa.”

My chest seized, breath drawn painfully back into my lungs.

Self-preservation kicked in, sending my feet down the drive, away from him. “Yeah, fuck you too, Toby.”

I continued down the street, feeling his hot gaze on me until I made it to a bus shelter. Where I called a cab and shivered from both the cold and anger.

“Go to a party, I said. It’ll be good for you, I said. God, could I be any more of a god damned idiot?” I asked the ceiling.

“You’re not. He behaved like the idiot,” Daisy informed tightly. “I’d be pissed.”

And she didn’t even know the half of it. I couldn’t tell her. Why I was trying to protect him wasn’t exactly clear to me.

Love really did make you do stupid things.

“And Mike. That guy is totally sweet. And what did he get? A punch in the face.”

“He does seem sweet.” Daisy turned the page in her textbook, her finger running down it until she found what she needed. She uncapped the highlighter with her teeth, letting the cap fall from her lips to the bed.

“Remind me not to lend my highlighters to you ever again.”

“You love me,” she said. “What are you going to do?”

My eyes rolled back to the ceiling, something pinching at my ribs whenever I thought of Toby’s last words to me the night before. Fuck you, Pippa.

“I’m not doing a damn thing,” I tried to say confidently, but my voice cracked on the last word.

Daisy remained quiet, the squeak of her highlighter against the page filling the room. “Good.”

“Good?” I asked, my eyes closing in an effort not to cry. I wouldn’t cry over this. I refused to cry over this.

“You’re the strongest person I know. Don’t go changing, or else I’ll have to steal all your pencils, mess up your side of the wardrobe, and call your mom.”

“Oh, shit. Not my mom,” I said sarcastically. My mind whirled. “Does it make me weak if I want to call her, though?” I sniffed, hating myself a little.

“Psh, don’t even. If you’re strong, your mom is a fortress. You need to tap into that at times. I know I do.”

“He was supposed to meet my dad on Sunday.”

No sound from Daisy, and I turned onto my side to stare at her as she shoved her books aside and laid down, staring back at me. “You’re still going to see him, though, right?”

“I don’t know. He wants me to meet Felicity.”

She made a face that made me laugh. “Well, I could come with you?”

“Doesn’t Quinn have some football thing?”

Daisy thought about it for a moment. “I think so. But he wouldn’t mind.”

“Thank you, but I think I’ll be okay.”

“Yeah,” she said, Deja vu sitting heavily between us. “You will be.”

A hot shower didn’t do a damn thing to help me sweat out this monster of a headache or the feeling of regret weighing my every movement.

Fuck you, Pippa.

Yeah, fuck you, too, Toby.

My stomach curdled, and I leaned over the vanity, breathing rapidly. What was wrong with me? What in the fucking hell wasn’t wrong with me?

Unsure of what to do but knowing I had to do something, I stood frozen for a stupid amount of time, the gray fog of my thoughts battling with the clarity that tried to shine through.

Call her.

Just fucking call her.

Stop being a coward. Do something.

I moved, grabbing my phone and calling and calling and calling.

She never answered. Sweat beaded on my temples as I stared down at the screen of my phone, my hand shaking as I tossed it to the floor and dressed.

Quinn was downstairs, flicking through Netflix with his leg over the back of the couch. “Shouldn’t you be with Daisy?” I asked, stopping in the entryway. It was Saturday; they always hung out every chance they got.

“After what happened last night, I thought it’d be a good idea to hang out here with you.”

“Well,” I said, slipping my feet into my running shoes. “Nice to know you give a shit, but it’s unnecessary.”

“Why’s that?”

I blinked. “It just is.”

“Mmm. Okay. Where you going?”

I barely withheld a glare, knowing he didn’t deserve any of my annoyance. “To sort my mess out.”

“Atta boy.”

I stopped at the door. “Any chance you could call Daisy and tell her I’ll be over there to talk to Pippa in a few?”

Quinn sighed. “I can, sure. Do I think it’ll help if she’s as pissed at you as she should rightfully be?” He turned back to the TV. “Probably not.”

I banged my forehead against the door. “Fuck. What if I’ve fucked it all up?”

Quinn was silent a moment before verbally smacking me upside the head. “Just keep knocking, dude.”

The sun beat down on me like a warm blanket, soothing some of the anxiety rolling throughout my body in rough waves. I’d been sitting outside the girl’s dorms for an hour, but no one had come and gone who I thought might let me in.

My chance came fifteen minutes later in the form of a nervous looking girl eating a Snickers bar. I had to pay her ten bucks, but she let me slip in behind her.

The Snickers bar had me emptying what was left in my wallet at the vending machines. Mints, chocolate bars, potato chips, and a can of soda filled my arms as I left the common room to a few strange looks.

Thankfully, the desk clerk wasn’t in—not that she probably would’ve cared—and I raced up the stairs two at a time, trying not to drop all my loot.

I got to the door, looked at it, then looked down at the packages in my arms.

With nothing else to do, I kicked it gently. Once then twice. Pippa opened it before I got a third swing in, her lips parting as she found me there.

“Room service?” I offered, words failing me.

She shut the door in my face.

It reopened, and her and Daisy grabbed all the snacks from my arms before closing it again.

What the fuck?

I guessed I had it coming. Probably a lot more where that came from too.

Suck it up, buttercup.

Keep knocking. Right.

Inhaling deeply, I rapped twice on the wood and waited.

Then waited some more.

And some more.

Girls passed me in the hall, smiling shyly or glancing at me one too many times. I wanted to scream at them. Don’t look at me. Keep walking. Nothing to see here.

Fucking hell.

I knocked again. “Pippa, please. Just open up long enough for me to apologize at least.”

The door finally opened a minute later. “I’m waiting,” she said, peering out from behind it.

Wishing she’d come closer, or stop hiding, but not willing to waste my chance, I spewed out, “I acted like a dick. A complete and utter asshole, and I’m sorry. Really fucking sorry.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Toby …”

“Pippa, I love you. I didn’t mean any of it. I was just—”

“High. You were just drunk and high. Great combo, am I right?”

“Wrong. I shouldn’t have—”

“Did you know that people with any kind of mental illness shouldn’t drink that much, and they most definitely should not be smoking pot.”

“I did know.” I was told by my dad on a regular basis, not to mention, my last therapist in high school. “I don’t know why I did it.”

“You do. You just won’t say it.”

My teeth gritted; honesty would just make it worse. But I couldn’t give her anything else. “It makes everything … quieter, all right? I feel free of myself for a while.”

“No. It’s not all right. I don’t care how high or how low you are, you can’t speak to me like that. Also, you should apologize to Mike. Bye, Toby.”

The door closed for what I knew was the final time, and I dropped my head against it. “Pippa,” I moaned. “Don’t do this. Please don’t do this.” My words were a whisper, but I knew she was still there. I could feel her, practically taste her, everywhere.

“Pippa.” I banged my head against the door. “Open up, I’m not done. We’re not done.”

“Please, just go home, Toby.”

Turning, I slid down to the floor, my knees bent with my arms hanging over them, and my head flopping to stare at the old, ugly ass carpet.

Go home, Toby.

Where? I couldn’t move when I didn’t feel like I belonged anywhere else.

How could she expect me to walk away from the one thing that tethered me to this place right now? To existing in general?

Did she even love me, if she was willing to leave me to rot all by myself?

She didn’t care anymore.

You fucked it all up.

Hell, she probably never really cared. Never gave a shit.

A shaky breath left me, vibrating past my lips as I tried to suck back all the raging emotions. They were multiplying. Splitting apart and creating the kind of chaos that had me feeling a sick sense of dread.

Without any other choice, I stood and walked home in a state of scared confusion.

I didn’t remember walking inside; I didn’t even remember if I saw Quinn.

The only thing I knew was that my pillow was in my face, and I was begging my body to sleep. Just shut down and sleep.

No one ever listened to me.

Probably because they knew I was full of shit. You can smile a great smile, but you ain’t got shit to back it up, Hawthorne.

Pointless. Everyone saw right through you in the end.

I was so sick of this.

I couldn’t breathe.

So tired of this.

Why the hell can’t I breathe properly?

Why the hell was I even there?

No one wants me here anyway.

Anywhere.

Here or anywhere.

“Shut up,” I whimpered, rolling my head around in the pillow.

“Hi, baby boy. Have a good day at school?”

“No, I don’t want to. Go away, Toby. Mommy is busy.” She returns her absent stare to the TV.

“Shut up,” I begged.

“Let’s go to the park. We can get ice cream after.”

Empty closets and scattered coat hangers.

My dad’s quiet sobs coming from his room.

A cat darting across the street, struck by a car and bleeding on the road.

“Daddy!”

My dad shuffling me inside and calling the vet.

The coarse rubber in my hands as I jogged backward over the field before throwing wide. Everything is quieter here.

Safer.

The laughing faces of Paul, Callum, Burrows, Ed, Mike, and Quinn—sitting around the fire and not realizing they held something precious within their hands.

I held something precious within my hands.

Two precious somethings.

Then I ripped them to pieces, abandoning them before I could see the damage lying at my feet.

Spineless and useless. Why was I even there?

“Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up,” someone was yelling. “Shut up, damn it, shut the fuck up.”

Why the fuck wouldn’t they shut up?

“Toby.” Hands in my hair, a tear-streaked face staring down at me.

My heart tried to bust a hole through my chest, sweat rolling down my face. “It’s okay.”

“Pip,” I said; my voice a quiet croak and no match against the screaming of my pulse.

She left, and I blinked slowly, wondering if she was even here. “Pippa!” My throat felt raw, battered, as I yelled for her.

She ran back, holding a washcloth out. “I’m here. Just went to get this.”

My eyes shut as she pressed the damp material to my forehead, gently gathering the sweat and cooling me down.

“I couldn’t …” I swallowed, wondering what she saw, what she heard. “Jesus. I’m a fucking disaster.”

“Shhh. You’re my disaster.”

My eyes sprang open, watching her wet lashes feather over her creamy cheeks, her mere presence tethering me. “I’m sorry.”

She sniffed, nodding. “I know you are.”

I kept staring as she kept fussing, her skin on mine helping my heart rate resume a normal rhythm. My green-eyed Pippa. Mine. “Don’t go.”

“I won’t.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

It was at that point, with tear-stained cheeks, her hands smoothing my hair and wiping away my sweat, that I realized she did. She really fucking did.

Grabbing her hand, I brought it to my mouth, rubbing it over my dry lips. “Stay with me.”

“Always.”

Parked cars and families filled the streets. Birds chattered up high in the trees. Toby’s hand in mine made the doubts crawling through my head duck and hide among the relief that having him here with me made me feel.

I didn’t know if he’d still be up for it. I didn’t know if I would be either, but a text message from my dad stating the time and place with way too many smiling emojis had me asking Toby.

Who immediately said, “Of course.”

I had no idea what sent me to his place yesterday. I felt it when he got up off the floor outside the door and walked away. It wasn’t that I felt guilty for standing my ground. I didn’t care what anyone’s issues were; no one had the right to hurt you the way he did me at that party.

After he’d left and I’d continued pacing my room with Daisy watching my every move, I decided to follow.

I was glad I did. Even if what I saw when I got to his place scared me out of my mind. The door was wide open, and his groans could be heard from the small foyer outside the living room. Quinn looked pained at the bottom of the stairs, unsure what to do. “He’s never done this before,” he whispered, expression stricken.

“I’ve got him,” I told him. And the look of relief that passed over his face stayed etched in my mind as I climbed the stairs and stood in his doorway, horrified.

He was writhing in the sheets, face down, as though he was in physical pain. I continued to stare until he started saying things. “Daddy,” scraped free of his throat as though the word was tearing at his vocal cords and bounced off the walls of his room, hitting me in the chest.

When he started mumbling, “Shut up, shut up,” over and over, the tears flooded my eyes, and my heart cried out, desperate for something to do but not sure what I could do.

It wasn’t until the mumbled words turned into growled shouts that I came unglued, and my fear for him drowned out the fear I had over the sight of him.

I knew, pressing that cloth to his head as his blue eyes stared up at me, pleading, desperate, and defeated, that I was stuck. He might’ve been trapped inside his own head in a way that ruined him continuously, but I couldn’t stop loving him if I tried.

Not because I felt bad, and not because my heart hurt in the worst way possible for him.

But because he was Toby.

It was like I’d finally seen it all, all of him, and it didn’t change a thing.

Love wasn’t glorious. It was messy, unfair, and a burden at times.

At times. Because the good outweighed the bad, and I knew his heart. And his knew mine on a level that transcended anything rational.

It wasn’t a matter of putting up with it or enduring it. It was a matter of loving someone, and knowing he was a good man even when he felt like the worst.

It was a matter of knowing. Period.

“You okay?” I asked Toby as we left his car parked by the curb and approached the Bean Stream.

“More than okay,” he said, bringing the back of my hand to his mouth.

A shuddering breath slipped from me when I saw my dad’s truck.

He had the same truck.

Once new, but now old.

I stopped walking two doors down from the café, and Toby stopped too. He glanced at where I was staring, then back at me, registering that something about it upset me.

Tugging on my hand, he fitted me into a small alcove and his lips met mine, softly rubbing, pecking. Tiny pecks and little nips until my anxiety became a piece of lint, flying away on the gentle breeze. “It’ll be fine. Better than fine.”

“Okay.” I nodded, trying to believe him. It was just coffee, and it wasn’t like I had to like her. I just had to be respectful, meet her, and keep it together.

“I’m here. Squeeze my hand three times if you want to bail early.”

We walked inside, and the purple and cream interior, and the scent of muffins and coffee relaxed me a little more.

At first glance, I thought maybe they hadn’t come in yet, but then I saw them. Sitting in a booth in the far corner. My dad’s leg was jumping up and down beneath the table as he stared at the TV playing music on the far wall; Felicity stared down at her phone on the table, her chin on her hand.

My mouth dried, my heart kicking forcefully.

“That him?” Toby asked.

I nodded, at least I think I nodded, and let him walk me over to the booth.

The air changed, grew teeth and bit into my skin as Felicity looked up from her phone, a smile slowly shifting her lips.

A smile that sagged heavily then fell to the floor when she looked at Toby.

“Pippa,” my dad said, rising and pulling me into a hug that wrenched Toby’s hand from mine.

“Hey.” I hugged him back, but I was only half in it. The other half of me was searching for Toby. For why this weird feeling gnawed at my skin. “This is Toby.” I pulled back, grabbing Toby’s hand, which was now clammy and stiff.

“Toby,” my dad said, his voice a little clipped. “I’m Mitch.”

“Is this some kind of a sick joke?” Felicity’s voice sliced through the frosted air, shattering it to fragments that rained down around us.

“Um, what?” I laughed out nervously.

“Mom?” Toby asked.

My eyes swung frantically between Felicity’s drawn but pretty face and Toby’s dumbfounded expression.

Then to my dad, who looked as confused as I felt. But only for a second.

“How’d you know?” Felicity wailed at my dad, her hands shaking as she scooped up her phone and purse from the booth. “I know you haven’t been happy with me for some time, but this is low, Mitch.”

Realization hit, thick and hard, slamming down on top of mine and my dad’s heads.

His mom.

Felicity was Toby’s mom.

“I didn’t,” my dad said, his voice confident but wavering slightly as he stared at Toby in shock. “She said she might be bringing someone. I had no idea …” His head shook. “Wait, you have a son and never even mentioned him?”

Toby squeezed my hand three times, and my eyes shot up to meet his.

He wasn’t okay. He was far from okay.

I followed him outside, the sweat between our palms slippery.

“What the fuck,” he whisper-hissed, letting go of my hand and doubling over on the sidewalk.

“I didn’t know. I promise.”

“No, I know,” he wheezed. “I … I can’t …” breathe was what he didn’t say.

My hands gripped his face, forcing him to straighten and stare down at me. “Just look at me. Breathe with me. Three times. Breathe in and out three times with me.”

His head shook, and he went to step away.

I tried again, my tone firm. “Three times. Now.”

He blinked, then watched me inhale, doing the same before exhaling slowly with me.

On the third breath, the door behind us opened and out came Felicity, blowing it all to shit as she stared at Toby, her gaze unreadable.

“I’m sorry,” she said, then she was storming down the street, the breeze kicking up her pink skirt and her long brown hair.

“She just …” Toby started, then stopped, his mouth snapping closed.

My dad looked as though he’d been mugged. “Pip, I-I … don’t even know what to say.”

“I have to go,” Toby said on a whisper. “Please.”

Looking up at him, I studied his panicked eyes and the tightness of his jaw and shoulders. And I saw what he didn’t want to say. He wanted to be alone to process what the hell just happened.

“She’s gone.” My dad stepped closer to Toby. “But I can try to—”

“No,” Toby snapped, then rushed to say, “Sorry, I just … just need to go.”

I watched him walk down the sidewalk, grateful that he bypassed his car. I didn’t much like the idea of him being alone right then, but I liked the idea of him driving after being sucker punched in the heart even less.

“His mom, huh?” my dad said, watching as Toby disappeared around the corner. “I’m guessing, judging by the fact I had no idea she had a son, that he doesn’t speak to her.”

“No,” I admitted. “She left when he was a kid. He hasn’t seen her since.”

It made me feel a little slimy to give away bits of his personal life like that, but my dad already knew more than I ever thought he would.

“Jesus. I feel a little sick,” I whispered.

Dad took my elbow and gently led me back inside. It had to be a shock for him, finding out the person he’d spent his life with for over a year had been lying to him about something this huge. Yet he got me a coffee and water, sat me down, and laid a heavy hand on my shoulder as he sat beside me.

I drank. First some water, then the coffee, as if it were something stronger that could help wipe the past ten minutes from my memory.

“Are you okay?” I finally asked him. No matter what he’d done, or what he’d made me feel, he was my dad. He was here with me when he could’ve run after her.

“I don’t know,” he said, grabbing the second water bottle he bought and uncapping it. “Jesus Christ. You think you know someone …” He laughed bitterly, taking a long pull from the bottle, causing the plastic to crinkle from the pressure.

His features were tight with confusion, the lines around his eyes deeper until he let out a sigh. He looked older than the last time I saw him. Like he was finally catching up with his age. He still had a thick head of dark hair, though. And magnetic eyes that made me want to gain his approval whenever they fell on me.

Some things didn’t change.

“Yeah,” I said. What could you say?

Having just found out my dad’s girlfriend was my boyfriend’s estranged mother kind of rendered one a bit stupefied.

We sat in silence a long while until the urge to check on Toby had my insides twisting.

Dad walked me back to campus, wrapping me in a hug that made my bones creak from his strength. “Love you, kiddo. You know that, right?”

“Love you too. Are you going to go find Felicity?”

He scratched at the stubble on his jaw, more silver mixed in with the dark brown than the last time I saw him. “She’ll probably be back at the apartment soon.”

It hurt me to say it but say it I did. When you loved someone, deep down, you didn’t want them to be miserable. “Has this, um, caused trouble between you two?”

His smile was unconvincing, but he scuffed my hair like I was ten again and pulled me to him to kiss my forehead. “Don’t worry about me. Worry about that boyfriend of yours. Toby, wasn’t it?”

I bit my lip as I stepped back. “Yes.”

His smile was real then. “I’ll give him the proper father shakedown next time. You know, when the poor guy hasn’t already been shaken up by the world’s mysterious, messed-up ways.”

“Okay,” I said, fighting a smile.

“I’ll call you tonight.” He jabbed a finger at me as he stepped backward. “Make sure you answer.”

Heading straight for the townhouse with my heart sticking to the roof of my mouth, I was both relieved and worried when I saw that Toby’s car wasn’t in the driveway.

Quinn was sitting in the kitchen, playing on his phone. “He’s upstairs. Daisy sent me home when you sent her the text.”

Nodding, I kicked my shoes off and raced upstairs, finding Toby staring out the window of his bedroom.

His back was to me, and the afternoon light painted his hair a rainbow of brown and highlighted the tense outline of his shoulder blades through his white Henley.

“Hey,” he said.

Walking over to him, I wrapped my arms around his waist from behind and rested my head against his back. “Hey.”

His hands gripped mine at his stomach, linking our fingers. I didn’t know how long we stood like that, but I found comfort in the slowing sound of his heartbeat against my cheek.

“The last memory I have of her is of her emptying a ton of shopping bags onto my parents’ bed and lying down among them, smiling wide at the ceiling as she clutched them all to her chest.” His voice lowered to a nostalgic whisper. “I was nine. She saw me watching her in the doorway, and when I asked her what she was so happy about, she told me that happiness wasn’t a question of what or when. It came, and it went. We need to grab it, grip it tight, and squeeze every last drop from it that we can. Because you never know when it’ll be back.”

My throat bobbed, and my eyes shut to block the tears. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t … we had no idea.”

“I know. Not your fault.” He turned, my arms moving to his back and his hands to my head, holding it to his chest. “She looked older yet still exactly the same.”

“She’s beautiful,” I whispered. It was true. She wasn’t someone you stopped and immediately stared at, but if you happened to look twice, what you saw would fascinate you. Classically pretty, but with the aura of a spooked cat.

“Are you going to …?” I didn’t quite know how to say it, a part of me scared of how he’d react.

“Never be afraid to ask me something. And yes, I’ll probably tell my dad. Just not today.”

“Fair enough. What can I do?”

His hands dug deeper into my hair. “Just be you, here with me.”

“I can do that.”

“A pizza wouldn’t hurt either. We didn’t get to eat.”

Laughing and brushing the tears from my eyes, I kissed his chest and called downstairs to Quinn.

My dad called later that night. “She’s gone. Her stuff is gone.”

“What?”

His laugh was full of shock and disbelief. “That damn woman. Is Toby okay?”

“He is.” Which I found surprising, but in a very good way. “But wait, so you guys broke up because of this?”

“Pippa,” he said. “We’d had issues long before this. Why do you think I worked so damn much? And meeting you, she always brought up the fact you kids didn’t like her, that you never wanted to meet her.”

“Shit cakes.”

He thankfully didn’t comment on my colorful vocabulary. “She was getting restless, looking for a way out. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Still, I’m sorry it’s happened.”

“Me too, but surprisingly, I don’t feel too bad. More shocked than anything.” He laughed. “That makes me messed up, right?”

“No more messed up than the rest of us.” I tried to lighten the moment.

He hummed. “Meeting someone in therapy, well, I guess it doesn’t always bode well. But she did well for a long while. Though she always seemed like she had some serious ghosts haunting her.” A long exhale left him. “Makes sense now.”

A son and a husband she left behind would make for some bad emotional company. “She needs help.”

“She does,” my dad agreed. “She’s been in and out of rehabs and doctors’ offices for years, though. She wants help until she doesn’t.”

Until she doesn’t.

Ignoring the alarm those words provoked, I thought about Felicity. The way she said sorry with the weight of a million apologies filling that one fleeting word. “She wants to feel guilty?”

“Maybe. Who knows.” His sigh held years of regret. “What a mess.”

“What are you going to do?” I asked after the line went quiet for too long.

Another sigh, this one lighter. “Nothing left to do but clean it all up.”

“His mom?” Daisy choked out on a gasp.

“Yup.” I tossed my mascara back into my makeup bag, pulling out some gloss. “And she just left.”

“You’re kidding.” Daisy was on her knees on her bed, leaning forward with a look of horror on her face. “He saw his mom for the first time in however long, and she just bailed?”

“Yup.” I put the gloss away and fluffed my hair.

“This shit is bananas.”

“Too fucking right.”

“What are the odds? Seriously?”

That was exactly what I thought, and looking back, yeah, it still seemed highly unlikely but not completely impossible. “It’s weird.”

“Um, yes. Your boyfriend’s mom was screwing your dad.”

Cringing, I threw her a glare. “Say it a little louder. I don’t think everyone on our floor quite heard you.”

“Sorry,” Daisy muttered, waving a hand. “Anyway … and then what happened?”

Sighing, I sat down beside her. “Not much. My dad seemed shell-shocked. He called me last night and said she’d up and left before he could even talk to her about it.”

Daisy’s hands flew to her mouth. “Why would she do that?”

Biting at my thumb nail, I shrugged. “Beats me. Maybe she didn’t expect her past to catch up with her and doesn’t want it to. That’s the only logical thing I can think of.”

“Logical,” Daisy whispered with disbelief. “Right.”

“I don’t know what to tell Toby. I haven’t told him that she’s gone.”

Daisy crossed her legs. “Do you think you need to?”

“He seemed okay. Too okay, considering.” Letting out a breath, I admitted, “It worries me.”

She tugged my hand away from my mouth. “Don’t. You don’t need to question everything he does and every mood he’s in. You don’t want that.”

I never wanted that. After watching what my mom went through, it was so easy to decide that I’d never put myself through the same. But when your heart isn’t in your control anymore, it wasn’t so easy to decide a damn thing.

“I shouldn’t tell him?”

“No. I think you should. Don’t be afraid; he loves you. And if you want this to work, you need to let go of the worry a little more.”

“When did you become the insightful one?” I asked with a tiny amount of scorn.

“When I made a mess of my life and heart. Sometimes, you’ve gotta go through the bad stuff to learn a thing or two.”

“Fucking college. I swear, algebra exams are easier than trying to dodge heartbreak and drama.”

Daisy laughed. “It’s so true, though.”

Eyeing her up and down, I narrowed my eyes. “You didn’t stay at the townhouse last night.”

“No.” She started gathering her sketch pad and bits of paper off the bed. “Came home.”

“Aw, you must really love me.” I wrapped an arm around her, and we fell to the bed, her stuff falling to the floor.

“Sometimes.”

“Did I tell you Alexis came into the parlor last week?”

“You didn’t.” Daisy sighed. “She okay?”

“If by that you mean she’s still kind of a spiteful bitch, then sure, she’s doing great.”

Daisy laughed. “For real?”

“Nah,” I said. “She only made a crack or two. But she seemed a little, I don’t know, remorseful? A little bitter and a little remorseful.”

“What a fantastic combination.”

“You’re telling me. It’s actually kind of fun sparring with her.”

Daisy glared at me, and I laughed. “Whose side are you on?”

“The side who won, duh.” She pinched me, and I swatted her hand away. “Joking, shit.”

“There are no sides. That was a stupid thing to say.”

“Not stupid.”

We laid in silence for a while until my third alarm went off. “Crap sticks, better go.”

Daisy groaned. “I don’t wanna. Let’s skip. Go get some donuts and shakes and sit out in the sun.”

“Tempting, but I need to hand in this paper anyway.” Then it clicked, and I gasped. “It’s shark week for you.”

Daisy’s eyes widened, then she scowled and mimicked my voice from earlier, “Say it a little louder, Pippa.”

“Oh, I will.” I jabbed my finger at her. “You didn’t come home just to be with me. You couldn’t have sex.”

She rolled her head back on a loud groan. “I could, but no … ew. I just can’t bring myself to do that. And so what?” She grabbed her bag, stuffing her things inside it. “You’re going to put me in the crappy friend basket because I got my period at the same time you might’ve needed me and it’s too convenient?”

“No, I just like to watch you get all stressed out. I don’t see enough of it anymore.” I slung my bag over my shoulder, opening the door.

“You bitch,” she hissed through a laugh, tossing her hairbrush at me as I ran out the door, snickering.

The blankets fell off me, and I yanked them back with a huff. A dream danced just out of reach of my periphery. I chased it, wanting it to chase me back and keep me asleep a while longer.

Something hit the ground with a thud, and my eyes flashed open. I had no idea what time it was or how long I’d managed to go back to sleep for, but I couldn’t feel Toby up against my back anymore. I rolled over, reaching for him in the dark. My hand fell on clammy skin, then it was immediately shoved off with a mumbled curse and a string of incomprehensible words.

“Toby,” I whispered thickly.

He didn’t respond.

The sheets shifted as he rolled over, then rolled over again, a groan dragging long and loud from his throat.

“Toby.” I sat up, pushing hair back from my face. Still no answer. Shaking him gently, I watched as his eyes flew open, his pupils dilated and his chest heaving up and down at a scary speed. “You okay?”

The tendons in his neck bulged, his Adam’s apple rippling as he swallowed. “Bad dream,” he croaked.

I switched on the bedside lamp and went downstairs to get him some water. This was the second time this week I’d woken up to find him in the throes of a nightmare.

“Here,” I said, standing beside him and waiting as he shifted into a sitting position.

“Thanks.” Toby took the glass, draining every drop in three seconds before setting it on the nightstand.

Moving back into bed, I laid down, and he moved to rest his head on my stomach. “Read to me?” he asked, his voice so child-like, so strained that I couldn’t refuse him even if I wanted to.

“Of course.”

He reached for the book, passing it to me. I opened it, carefully setting the bookmark beside me on the bed.

“The residents of New Davensville weren’t sure what to make of the new family of ten. ‘Who could afford to feed eight children,’ they whispered in each other’s ears on the streets and in the church pews Sunday morning. And that wife, she looked so sad. And though the words were true, the people sharing them could not care less. Sad she was, and also very beautiful, Susie surmised as she crossed paths with Gabriella in the local grocer just last week. Hair as black as midnight, and eyes so golden brown, reminiscent of twin pools of copper. Beautiful indeed. And her husband too. Though the question nagged incessantly at Susie’s conscience like a battering ram. What brought them here? The husband, most likely. Yes, Susie thought. Perhaps the wife was not very happy about the move. An idea formed in Susie’s mind, a cautious smile lifting her lips.”

When Toby seemed to have relaxed, I asked, “Want to tell me about it?” My fingers swept through his hair, combing the sweaty strands back from his damp forehead.

“I don’t even know if I could explain it.”

“Try me,” I said softly, returning the bookmark to its place and shutting the book.

He closed his eyes. “That feels good.”

“Talk and I’ll keep going.”

Keeping his eyes shut, he exhaled loudly before saying, “It’s like a movie reel of so many different things. All of them bad, and all of them just keep playing. It’s kind of like …”

“Kind of like?” I prompted.

“What happens in my head sometimes when I’m awake on the bad days. Only much worse.”

Unsure whether to push a little more, I held my breath a minute, then let it out. “What’s it like? On the bad days?”

He laughed a heartbreakingly, self-deprecating laugh. “There are bad days, not so bad but not so good days, and then there are the good days.”

“You categorize them based on?”

“How I feel,” he said quietly. “And my head.”

“You don’t have to tell me, but I’d like to try to understand a little better.”

“No. I can tell you. I just need to figure out how to explain it without sounding completely fucking crazy.”

“I’d never think you’re crazy.”

His smile was sad. “You love me, though.”

“I do.”

Time ticked on. One minute, then two, and three.

“It’s almost like there are TVs playing. In my head, that is. Each of them plays something different, and I’m trapped in the middle while they all play on around me. I can’t turn them off, and I’m stuck on this chair that keeps spinning. Picture one of those office desk chairs, you know?” I nodded. “Around and around I go, from one thought to the next. Stupid shit I remember from when I was a kid to shit that happened two minutes ago. It doesn’t make sense, it doesn’t connect, it just …”

“Is,” I said, trying to keep the sadness out of my voice. This wasn’t about me, or how it made me feel. No matter how much I ached for him after hearing that information.

“Yeah, it just is. And at times, it’s relentless. Suffocating.”

“These thoughts, they have no relevance to one another?”

“Not that I can think of. And sometimes, something I’m stuck on is so loud, and I’m trying to figure it out, it won’t let me go before I can, and I’m letting it turn me over while I try to examine it, and I can’t … I just can’t.”

I stayed silent, letting him talk when he was ready.

“When they’re good thoughts, or even not so good but not so bad thoughts, it becomes a problem I need to solve. I can’t stand to be interrupted. It makes it worse, and I feel crazy because … because I’m having these conversations with myself in my own damn head.” He laughed humorlessly, and I kept running my fingers through his hair, trying to keep him calm. “It’s fucked up. I get irrationally mad at people who interrupt me when I’m talking to myself.”

“You hide it well,” I surmised, looking back on all the times he’s been seen with a smile on his face and confidence carrying his feet wherever he went. “Do you do that on purpose?”

“I don’t mean to hide it. Yes, it’s not something I’m proud of.” He grabbed my free hand, fiddling with my fingers. “I understand this kind of shit happens to way more people than just me, but I just want to feel normal.”

“You should see someone again. Maybe start taking your medication,” I felt the need to tell him.

“I don’t like it.”

“Why?”

Sighing, he said, “I didn’t take them because of football. Which yeah, seems stupid now in hindsight, but they made me feel weird. Too loose. I had dizzy spells and would always feel so tired. I couldn’t play for shit, and that scared the hell out of me.”

“You tried a few different ones?”

“I did. I tried almost every prescription that was shoved down my throat. All except the ones I got over Christmas break.”

I didn’t want to ask him to do anything for me. I wanted him to do it for him, and so I still pushed. “Would you consider trying them?”

He didn’t answer me, just kept playing with my fingers.

“Have you been thinking about your mom?”

“I dreamed about her. That she came to say she was sorry, but then she disappeared again.”

My heart panged, the words I needed to say fighting against my vocal cords. “My dad called me the other night when I got home.”

“She’s gone, isn’t she?” he asked, voice deceptively soft.

“Yeah. She was gone before he got home.”

Another low chuckle. “Figures.”

He got up, heading out of the room. I heard him in the bathroom a while and rolled over to face his sleep rumpled pillow.

I was almost asleep when he came back. “Toby?”

“Mmm?” he pulled me to him, resting his chin on top of my head.

“You okay?”

Long seconds ticked by before he answered. “Not right now, but maybe tomorrow.” He kissed my hair, inhaling deeply. “But even among all the chaos, my soul will always recognize yours.” He kissed my hair again. “Never doubt that, no matter what.”

It was the no matter what that scared me.

Ash fell from the blunt, holding my gaze until I brought it to my lips again, inhaling it deep into my lungs.

Numb. It was both an underrated word and feeling.

My head was quiet, my bones felt pliable and relaxed, and for the first time in weeks, I wasn’t worried about anything.

Missed two days of class? Big fucking deal. It wasn’t like I’d dropped out.

Didn’t complete an assignment due three days ago? No scratch that, didn’t even start it. No biggie. I had enough shit to catch up on. I’d just throw it on the never-ending pile waiting for me.

And let’s not forget about my fucked-up excuse for a mother, who ran at the first sight of me.

Fuck her.

I didn’t even care.

And I loved it.

“Shit. Where’s this been for the past two years of my life?”

Matt chuckled, downing more of his beer. “Football was your life.”

The reminder should’ve stung with a force that threatened to send my heart shaking, but it didn’t even touch me.

“What do I owe you?” I asked, digging my wallet out of my pocket.

“Nothing, dude. But if you keep coming around, you’ll need to chip in. There’s a jar at the door.”

I put the blunt in an empty beer bottle and saw myself out. Pippa would be coming over soon, and I needed to shower and get rid of the smell before she did.

The scent of bacon and pancakes traveled up the stairs to greet me the next morning when I walked out of the bedroom. My head spun, and my mouth was dry as fuck.

“I don’t remember what time I passed out,” I said to Quinn as I walked into the kitchen, grabbing the juice from the fridge and pouring myself a glass. “Did Pippa get sick? Where is she?”

Daisy looked up from her phone, her brown eyes widening slightly. “What?” I asked.

“Ah, dude. Put a fucking shirt on.” Quinn plated up some bacon and a pancake, putting it in front of Daisy on the counter.

“Naw, don’t be like that.” Finishing off my juice, I dumped the glass then grabbed a piece of bacon off Daisy’s plate, winking at her when she scowled at me.

“And Pippa didn’t come over.”

My feet stopped at the base of the stairs. I looked up them as if she’d appear somewhere upstairs at any moment. “Where is she?”

“She had study group. It ran late,” Daisy said.

Study group. I rubbed at my brow for a second, wondering why the hell she didn’t text me.

The front door opened, and I walked over, looking down the hall as Pippa walked in. “Hi,” she said, smiling wide as she kicked off her shoes.

I stared at her as she walked over to me, my blood heating. Where’d she been? “Where have you been?”

Grabbing my chin, she tilted it down to peck my lips. Her minty smell had my thoughts scattering, and I tried desperately to realign them. “I sent you a text,” she said, moving into the kitchen as Quinn plated the last of the food.

“You didn’t.”

Pippa laughed. “Um, yeah. I did.”

“What time?”

Daisy and Quinn exchanged looks. I ignored them, focusing on the reason I couldn’t seem to catch my breath. “Maybe nine thirty? I don’t know. Study group ran late.”

Ran late.

What had she really been doing? She always came over when she said she would. Why change now? “You’re lying.”

“Toby,” Quinn warned.

I ignored him again, still staring at Pippa. Her beautiful eyes widened, her lips parting.

“I didn’t get a text. I didn’t even know what you were doing.”

“Toby, I sent you a text telling you it was late, and I was tired.”

Late. Since when was nine thirty all that late? She could’ve been tired and still came here to sleep. It seemed irrelevant that I was getting high and had no concept of the time. I didn’t hear my phone go off. Didn’t feel it vibrate.

“Toby, let’s go upstairs,” Pippa said quietly with a glance at Quinn and Daisy.

“No, I’ll go upstairs. You go home, seeing as you’re apparently too busy for me anyway.”

Daisy made a strange, strangled noise, and Pippa continued to stare at me with narrowed eyes and trembling lips.

My hands shook. I shoved them in my pockets then raced up the stairs.

The front door slammed five seconds later.

Charcoal clouds crawled over the sky, and my feet tried to keep two steps ahead of them. It was going to rain any minute. My purse tucked under my arm, I reached the front door and knocked.

No answer. I tried the doorbell and peeked between the curtains. No one was here.

Pulling my phone out, I quickly called Toby.

“Hello?” Loud music filled the background.

“Hey, where are you? Obviously not home.”

“Obviously.” He laughed, like leaving me to guess his whereabouts was now some form of payback. “Just messing with you. I’m at Matt’s place on the next street over. Wanna wait? I can leave now.”

I glanced at the sky; it wasn’t dark yet, but the impending rain had me wanting to get someplace where I wouldn’t get wet.

“I’ll meet you there,” I said, hanging up.

I started walking down the street just as the sky opened, and fat drops of rain pelted my cheeks and arms.

Fuck buckets of shit.

What he was doing at this Matt guy’s place, I didn’t know. It took three calls the night before last before he’d finally speak to me after his weird outburst in front of Quinn and Daisy. He didn’t apologize and neither did I. I got the impression he wanted to forget it happened, and so reluctantly, I let it go.

It wasn’t really him when he was like that. It wasn’t even someone else, but rather, something else.

Thunder growled, and I almost jumped out of my skin as lightning streaked across the sky.

Luckily, I didn’t need to know the number of the house; they were all outside on the porch, drinking, smoking, and listening to rap music.

“Hey, hey,” Matt said. “Long time no see, Pippa.”

“Hi,” I said, remembering him from biology last semester.

I trudged up the steps, swiping water from my face as Toby stared up at me with bloodshot eyes.

“You’re smoking?”

He shrugged, taking a long drag before putting the blunt out. “Don’t get mad. It takes the edge off.” He grabbed my hand, pulling me down onto his lap and wrapping his arms around me. “Missed you,” he said to my ear.

“Why didn’t you tell me you wouldn’t be at your place?” I asked, irritation itching at my skin.

“Hmmm.” He moved my hair aside, kissing my neck. “Not nice, is it? Expecting someone to be there, but they’re nowhere to be found.”

I stood, anger growing red hot in my chest and rising up my neck to my cheeks. Toby sat back, grabbing his beer from the ground and taking a sip, his eyes smiling at me.

“So it’s payback? Seriously?”

He glanced at the few guys sitting out here, who were all trying to look busy with an acoustic guitar.

The music pounded, making my head hurt almost as much as my heart did.

“Call it what you want, beautiful. I’m not in the mood to fight.”

“Hey, Hawthorne, you put twenty in the jar yesterday?” Matt asked.

Toby’s head ducked, but he said, “Yeah, I put another in earlier.”

“Sweet. Thanks, man.”

It all started clicking unbearably slow, like my brain needed a service. Its parts were rusted and out of date, but they were trying, and as that saying goes, better late than never.

“You’ve been getting high all week?”

Toby just stared as salt filled my nose, mouth, and eyes. I closed them, drawing in a never-ending breath before letting it tumble free.

Thunder boomed overhead, making the guys on the porch hoot and curse.

“I’m going home.”

Toby leaned forward. “Because I smoked some pot?”

“No. Because I don’t feel like hanging out here right now. It’s raining, and I’m …” I blinked back tears. “I just want to go.”

“Pip, come on.” He reached for my hand, but I stepped back against the porch railing. “You can’t be mad at me over this.”

“I can’t be?” I tried to keep my voice steady, though I heard it waver under the patter of rain hitting the tin roof over our heads.

“I’m just trying to get by. One day at a time.”

“When did you last go to class?” He sat back, rubbing at his brow. “Toby?”

“Who the fuck cares?”

“I care,” I said firmly, then repeated myself, my voice breaking. “I fucking care.”

“Chill out, Pip-squeak. I’m not your dad. I’m not your second chance to fix something that can’t be fixed.”

Something splintered in my chest, causing a shockwave that had my feet carrying me off the porch and down the steps into the rain.

He didn’t call after me, and he didn’t follow me.

I wasn’t sure which hurt the most.

His words, his actions, or this constant beating I was putting myself through.

By the time I got back to the dorm, I was soaked, dripping water all the way up to our room. I shed my jacket and top, and fell to the floor, desperately trying to get my jeans unstuck from my legs.

That was where Daisy found me when she returned from the shower, her hair wrapped in a yellow turban. “Whoa.” She laughed. “Need some help?”

I collapsed to the carpet, trying to catch my breath. “I think we’re going to have to cut them off me.”

“Let’s not lose all hope just yet.” She dropped her shower caddy on her dresser and bent down at my feet, tugging my jeans off by the ankles with enough force to send her flying back toward the wardrobe.

Tears ran out of my eyes as I curled over on my side, laughing.

Daisy joined in. “What did you do? Swim in superglue?”

The laughter turned into sobbing. Lying there on the floor in my bra and panties, the cries erupted from me against my will.

“Crap,” Daisy said, crawling over and lifting my head. She placed it in her lap, pushing my rain-drenched hair back from my face as my tears splashed onto her flannel pajama pants.

“What’s going on?”

She listened as I blubbered my way through a brief rundown of what happened.

“Getting high? All the time?”

“Yes,” I whispered, wiping underneath my nose with a tissue she’d handed me.

“And he just let you walk home in the rain after standing you up? As what, some weird kind of payback?”

I shrugged, sitting up and leaning back against my bed. Daisy passed me the blanket off the end of my bed, and I wrapped it around me, a shiver twitching my limbs. “Who knows. I think he just wanted to get high, if I’m being honest with myself.”

“Pip.” She gnawed at her lip. “What he said to you the other morning—”

“I know.”

“You guys talked about that?”

I didn’t answer her because I was ashamed. Not of Toby, but of myself. Which was only made worse when Daisy said carefully, gently, “This isn’t you. What’s happened to my best friend?”

“She did something stupid.”

Daisy tsk’d. “You haven’t. And we all love Toby, but he’s not hanging out with the guys anymore. Which is understandable because it’s gotta be hard, but he’s … changing. Every time I see him, he acts differently.”

Hearing that from an outsider’s mouth hit me hard in the stomach, almost knocking the breath from my lungs.

“Why did I do this to myself?” I asked, not expecting any sort of answer.

Daisy answered anyway. “You fell in love. We don’t get to choose who that’s with. But you do have a choice here, Pippa.”

I knew I did. I just didn’t know how to make a decision that seemed to have no happy ending.

The next morning, I skipped. Something I rarely ever did. It was fitting, though. I was doing loads of things I thought I never would. And I didn’t know how to stop it. How to put the brakes on and take a deep breath, reevaluate everything without this bone-crushing weight sitting on my shoulders.

“Mom,” I said.

“Hey, shouldn’t you be in class?”

“I’m taking a sick day.”

A car honked in the background, and my mom cursed. “Let me pull over.” She came back a minute later. “Assholes. They think they own the road. Newsflash, most of us all pay through the ass in taxes.”

I snorted, putting the phone on speaker and rolling over to stare at the paint chips on the wall by my bed.

“What’s wrong?”

“How do you know something’s wrong?”

“The sick day, for one. And two, you’re my daughter. I hear it in your voice.”

“When …” I cleared my throat. “What did you do when it all became too much? With Dad?”

That made her pause a long moment. “A lot of things I shouldn’t have,” she admitted. “I should’ve kept living my own life instead of letting it fall through the cracks of his. Toby?”

“Yeah.”

“He’s not doing well?”

“No. And I don’t know what to do.”

“Honey, you’re young. I was too when I met your dad. Don’t make the same mistakes. Love him but never forget to love yourself more.”

Love myself more. “How do you do that?”

“It’s quite simple really. But it took me too long to learn. That’s hindsight, for you.” A dry laugh left the speaker of my phone before she deadpanned, “Say no. Say it often and never hesitate to say it when you really need to.”

I couldn’t imagine saying no to Toby. Not if he really needed me. I suddenly had a brand-new respect for my mother, which made me feel like a bitch for all the times I thought she was weak.

“How bad is it?”

“Bad.”

“He’s not getting help?”

“Not right now. He doesn’t want to.”

“Well, shit, sweetheart.” She sighed a sigh full of knowledge and worry. “I’m sorry. You can’t force him to.”

“I know.”

“Wanna come home?” she asked. “I can make you some pudding, and we can go shopping at Target for things we don’t need.”

A laugh sputtered out of me. “Tempting, but I’ll be okay.”

“What are you going to do?”

That was the question I couldn’t seem to wrap my brain or heart around. “I have no idea. But I can’t keep doing this.”

“No,” she said, “you can’t.”

Head held high, I knocked and waited.

I understood it was hard for him to look outside himself, but he had to see what this was doing to him, to us, to me. And if he couldn’t, then it was up to me to tell him. He couldn’t keep ignoring it, hoping it would one day just go away.

“Toby, open up!” I kept knocking.

“Okay, okay.” He cursed, rubbing his eyes as he opened the door. “God, what time is it?”

“Who the fuck cares, right?” I shouldered past him, heading for the living room.

“Guess I deserved that. You’re not in class?” he asked, following me.

“Took a sick day,” I said, taking a seat at the counter. “Had some stuff to think about.”

Standing on the opposite side, he drummed his fingers on it, over and over. His hair in disarray, and his eyes red with dark smudges beneath them. “I’m sorry, Pip-squeak. You want a drink?” He walked to the fridge, getting out some juice and filling a glass.

“If you’re going to apologize, at least have the decency to look me in the eye.”

His head snapped up, eyes squinting as he studied me. He could pick me apart all he wanted and try to douse my determination, but the flames inside me would still burn.

He came around the counter, nudging his way between my legs and gripping my cheeks. “I was an asshole, and I’m fucked up. I’m sorry.”

“I love you, Toby,” I whispered and pressed my mouth to his.

He stepped back after only a second. “Why do I sense a but here?”

“You’ve treated me like crap, and I’ve let you. That’s on me, and I’m not making excuses for myself. Because the simple truth is, I love you. But I have to stop making excuses for you.”

“Right.” He picked up his glass, draining the contents with his brows pinching together.

“I can’t do this.”

His actions, his issues—they weren’t an excuse. But they were a reason, and those reasons wouldn’t change just because he loved me.

And especially not because I loved him.

He coughed, putting the glass down. “Do what? Be with me?”

“I want to be with you, but I can’t keep watching you do this. You need help.”

His fingers went to his brows, and he laughed slightly. “Wow. You’re breaking up with me? Giving me an ultimatum?” His voice rose on the last words, and he continued before I could say anything. “Fuck that, Pippa. This is the way I’ll always be. It’ll never change. It’ll never go away. You need to just accept that.” His chest rose and fell harshly as he stepped between my knees, glaring down at me. “Can you accept it?”

“Can I accept what?” I asked, my voice a wisp even though I knew full well what he was asking me.

“Can you accept me or not?”

Looking him dead in the eye, I didn’t hesitate. “You know what, I think you’re asking the wrong person that question.”

We stared at each other for a loud, booming heartbeat, the silence growing venomous with too much emotion until he stepped back, grabbed the glass, and threw it at the wall.

Glass clinked against the tiles, and something thumped the back of my head, hard enough to make me cry out. I looked at the ground, my hand going to the back of my head as I saw an old framed picture of vegetables that’d once hung above where I was sitting.

The black frame was cracked, and when I pulled my hand away, it felt wet.

“Fuck.” Toby grabbed my hand, staring in horror at the blood on my fingertips. “Turn around,” he demanded gently; his whole demeanor changed as though he’d flipped channels in his mind when the glass hit the floor.

“Toby, I’m fine. I just want to go.” Shock was coursing through me, cold and terrifying. I tried to move past him, but he grabbed my shoulders and sat me on the stool again.

His fingers parted my hair. “It’s cut your head. I don’t think it’s deep, but it’s bleeding.”

He leaped over the counter, grabbing a dish towel and dampening it under the tap before racing back around and holding it to my head. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. Christ, I’m sorry.” He kept repeating himself, and I found it quite stupid. The way my head throbbed like it’d been punched, but still, it was no match for the pain in my chest.

“I’m taking you to the ER.”

“Please leave it. It’s just a cut. I’ll have a bump for a day or two, and the world will go on.”

“Pippa,” he begged, but I stood, refusing to look at him as I kept the towel pressed to my head. “I’m not letting you walk home—”

The front door opened, and Daisy and Quinn walked inside, laughing until they saw me standing outside the kitchen.

Daisy gasped, looking around at the glass, the picture, then at me.

Quinn growled at Toby, his entire body tensing. “What the fuck did you do?”

“He didn’t hurt me. He just … lost his temper.”

That didn’t seem to appease anyone. My eyes bulged, following Quinn as he moved toward Toby, looking like he was about to lose some serious shit.

Toby just stared at me, not even trying to explain himself away. “Quinn, he threw a glass. Not at me. It hit the wall, and a picture came loose above my head. He didn’t hurt me. It was an accident.”

Quinn stopped, turning to look at me. “You bleeding?”

“A little.”

Daisy grabbed the towel, checking my head with a wince. “We need to get you checked out.”

“I’m fine.”

“Just in case.”

Quinn returned his attention to Toby, opened his mouth to say something, then shut it with a disappointed shake of his head before directing Daisy and me out to his truck.

Toby was left standing frozen in the hall.

After a brief and unnecessary, in my opinion, trip to the triage nurse, Quinn dropped us home. Daisy took it upon herself to wake me every few hours. I loved her, I really did, but after the third time, I caught her cheeks and told her that I’d go sleep outside on a bench if she didn’t quit.

She still woke me up one more time.

The glass hitting the wall kept replaying in my head. The loud crack, and the tinkling sound it made as it collided with the tiles.

What did you do when the one person you wanted most in the world was no good for you? In my heart, I knew he was it for me. That bone-deep, soul-connecting kind of love. Yet I felt like I was being dragged away from him by some invisible force even if I knew it was probably for the best right now.

Because I couldn’t save him, and he didn’t want me to.

He had to want to save himself, and no amount of love or pleading could make that happen.

Useless. I felt completely and utterly useless.

By midmorning, my phone had finally shut up, and I soon guessed why.

“He’s downstairs,” Daisy said from the window near her bed.

“I know,” I said, staring at the drawing she had sketched of us last October. It was hard to look back on a time when everything felt so good, so right, when you could clearly see the tiny fissures forming. The ones you ignored because that feeling of euphoria, of finding your heart’s happiness, was always there to quickly cover them in glue.

I was forgetting that we were also new. We didn’t know. Had no idea that it could end this way.

Has it ended?

I didn’t think it would ever end; this feeling of belonging to someone even when you weren’t with them. Even when everything had snowballed out of control.

It didn’t mean I could keep doing this.

There was a certain strength in being there for someone who needed you.

But you needed ten times that amount of strength to realize you couldn’t keep allowing them to ruin themselves.

Did it make me weak? For not being able to watch the person I loved spiral out of their own mind, disappear through the cracks of reality more every day, and rarely come back?

Possibly.

My fingers brushed over the space where our faces connected on the rough sheet of art paper.

“Do you want me to go down and talk to him?” Daisy offered.

“No, that’s okay.” A single tear rolled down my cheek, slipping off the curve of my chin and dropping with a tiny splash on where Toby’s fingers touched my hair, turning the charcoal a darker shade of gray.

“Pip,” Daisy said. I looked over at her, startled by the harsh look of concern on her face. “Come here. I’m sorry, but I think you should see this.”

Peeking through the lace curtain, my hand flew to my mouth as I watched Toby pace back and forth down on the pebbled pathway. A few passersby looked back at him as he kept walking up and down, down and up, his hands continuously running through his hair and down his face.

Tears welled, and my chest constricted, every part of me tensing with the need to go to him. To wrap my arms around him and tell him it would be okay.

But I couldn’t promise him that, and my feet refused to move.

“Want to make some noodles downstairs?” Daisy asked a few hours later.

I declined, trying to get lost in a book while my head tried to sort out the tangled mess that was my brain. “I’m good.”

“You haven’t eaten,” she said.

“I had a muffin earlier.”

Daisy lingered a moment longer, her gaze heavy on top of my bent head. “Where do you think he went?”

“Home,” I said. “Hopefully. Or Matt’s, I don’t know.”

“You okay?”

I tossed my book aside, staring back over at the window. “I’ll be fine. If you want to go see Quinn, please just go.”

“But you’re—”

“I’ll be torn up whether you’re here or not,” I said. “Besides, I think I’m going to go over and check on him soon. Just to let him know I’m okay and maybe see if I can get through to him one more time.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

My eyes met hers. “He’s not going to hurt me, Dais.”

“I know,” she said quickly. “But he just seems so, I don’t know, unstable.”

“He is, but I know him. I can’t leave him to freak out after what happened. Not without a conversation.”

“Okay, when are you going?”

I looked at the time, knowing it’d be dark soon. “Guess I should get it over with before I chicken out.”

“Pippa, you can leave it till tomorrow.”

I couldn’t, but I didn’t expect her to understand that.

Daisy ditched her noodles, opting to make something at the townhouse instead.

The rain had stopped, but the sun had yet to dry the dampness that lingered over Gray Springs like an icy veil. I shivered as I approached the house, finding Toby’s car parked next to Quinn’s truck in the driveway.

We went inside, and Daisy joined Quinn on the couch.

Quinn nodded at me. “Doing okay?”

Daisy curled into his side, his arm folding around her. “Yeah. He’s here?”

“Upstairs. I think he’s sleeping. Haven’t heard anything in a while.”

“Okay.”

I was about to leave the room when he said, “Um, just be careful, all right? He’s pretty messed up over what happened. And he won’t talk to me.”

Nodding, I made my way upstairs, each step making my heart beat faster as I reached the landing. I closed my eyes briefly, trying to gather my wits and my thoughts. No matter what, they wouldn’t cooperate, so I kept walking, trepidation sending the hairs on my arms rising.

“Toby?” I knocked on his door.

When there was no response, I dropped my head to the door, inhaling deeply before turning the handle. I looked over at him, closing the door behind me. He was lying on his bed, limbs strung out like a starfish. I didn’t realize why that sent chills skating down my spine until I rounded the bed and saw his face.

The air in the room turned over, brushing thick along my skin.

He was so pale, his lips almost blue, and when I touched his skin, it was clammy and cool. “Shit,” I breathed. “Toby,” I called out, shaking his shoulders.

He wouldn’t wake up. My eyes ran over his arms, jean covered legs, landing on his fingers. Two of his fingers twitched.

I screamed louder than I’d ever screamed before. “Quinn!”

Oh, God.

Oh, my fucking God.

Footsteps pounded up the stairs, the door hitting the wall as Quinn flung it open. “He’s …” I swallowed. “He’s taken something.”

Quinn cursed repetitively, his own face paling. He froze for all of a second, then he was rounding the bed, yelling for Daisy to call an ambulance as he turned Toby onto his side.

I watched in horror as Quinn shifted him to face me, then felt his pulse. “It’s faint, but I feel it.” He looked up at me. “Stay here with me, Pippa. Can you call his dad?”

Jerking my head once, I fumbled for my phone in my pocket.

“They’re on their way,” Daisy said from the bedroom door.

My phone slipped out of my sweaty hand and dropped to the carpet. As I frantically tried to pick it up, a blue bottle came into view, sitting beside the bed on the floor.

His medication.

“No,” I whispered, even though it was obvious, as I picked it up and shook it, this was what he’d taken. “He took these.” I handed them to Quinn, who kept his hand on Toby’s neck, taking the bottle from me with the other.

“Fuck.”

“There’s still some in there,” I said, hoping that was a good sign.

Quinn just looked at me. “Pippa, it held thirty, and I’m guessing he hadn’t taken any of them until now.” My lips and hands trembled as sirens started screaming in the distance. “Call his dad, Daisy. His phone’s there.”

“I-I …” I looked at my phone, realizing I didn’t have his number, and shoved my hand through my hair, pulling roughly at the strands.

Wake up.

Wake up, wake up, wake up.

Daisy grabbed Toby’s phone from the nightstand, walking outside the room.

Everything happened in a blur. The EMTs came up the stairs, taking the medication from Quinn, then turning Toby, prying open his eyes and tearing open his clothes, telling me to stand back.

Quinn took my hand, pulling me out of the room. “No,” I said. “I can’t leave him.”

“We’re in the way,” Quinn said. “He needs them right now, not us.”

I watched with bile sitting heavy in my throat as they carried him downstairs, slammed the doors of the ambulance, and drove away.

“Let’s go,” Quinn said, turning the lock on the door and waving his arm for us to get out.

We climbed into his truck, Daisy sitting in the middle and holding my hand in her shaking one until we reached the small university hospital on the other side of campus.

Liam showed up forty-five minutes later, looking ten years older than the last time I saw him as he ran into the emergency waiting room.

“Hey,” he said, coming to a stop when he saw us. “Where is he?”

“They’re still working on him,” Quinn said.

Liam nodded, looking so frightened that I trembled even more. He marched over to the desk, talking with a nurse for a few minutes.

I tucked my hands under my legs as Quinn gave Toby’s dad a quick recount of what had happened once he returned.

Liam cursed, looking like he was about to cry or punch someone square in the face, then his eyes fell on me, and I flinched, waiting for the blame. It didn’t arrive, though.

He bent down in front of me, grabbing my hand and squeezing it. “You look like you’re about to faint,” he said.

A dry laugh spewed out of me. “I’m sorry,” I said, sniffling as the tears came. “I had no idea he’d …”

“Shhh,” he said, hugging me. “It’s no one’s fault. Where’s your phone?”

He leaned back, and I gave it to him, watching as he punched his number in. “So I can let you know how he’s doing because it’s getting late. You guys can’t hang around here all night.”

“I’m not leaving,” I said quietly but firmly.

“Neither are we,” Quinn said, Daisy nodding in agreement.

Liam nodded, his eyes growing wet.

The doors to the waiting room opened, and Callum, Burrows, and Paul walked in, silently taking a seat on the other side of the room.

“It’s all over campus?” Quinn asked.

Callum shook his head. “Nah, I was driving by when I saw you pull in here. Then when you didn’t answer your phone, I sent Daisy a text.”

Quinn bristled beside me but didn’t say anything. It wasn’t the time, and it really didn’t matter.

“He’s his friend, and he knew something was wrong,” Daisy defended.

“You don’t need to explain anything,” I told her. “Don’t worry about it.”

The doors to the emergency room swung open. “Mr. Hawthorne?”

Liam almost ran over to the doctor, nodding and following him inside the ER.

My limbs turned numb, and I swear, if I couldn’t feel the rough plastic of the chair beneath my hands, I’d almost think I was floating.

Why did he do this?

Because of me?

Because it all became too much?

Did he seriously try to kill himself?

My body hummed with terror, my mind searching for answers, reaching for them, only to see them flying away, far out of reach.

The only thing I knew with a certainty that sunk deep claws into my psyche was that I couldn’t walk away. He had his demons, but I’d be there, fighting them alongside him. Together, we’d find him among the darkness and bring him back.

The minutes ticked onward, and no one talked. It was as though we were all standing on a tightrope, hoping it didn’t shake, that the wind didn’t blow, and we’d be able to make it across to the other side in one piece.

Babies and young children cried or squealed, but the tick of the clock hanging on the wall drowned out all the other sounds.

After what felt like an eternity, Liam returned, talking about things like came to, ventilation, being moved to the ICU, monitoring his liver and kidneys.

“Jesus,” Quinn said hoarsely, dropping his head into his hands. Daisy rubbed his back.

“Will he be okay?” Callum asked, walking over to sit beside me.

Liam looked pained, as if something was squeezing his heart, when he said, “The next twenty-four hours are critical. They’ll know more by then.”

Liam looked around, and so did I, but no one moved.

“I’ll go buy some real coffee,” Burrows said, and Paul offered to go with.

Callum took my hand in his, giving it a squeeze as Liam sat down beside him.

“Pippa,” someone said, shaking my shoulder.

I woke with a gasp, my neck stiff and drool sitting below my bottom lip. I wiped it, looking around and blinking. The sun shone through the glass windows and doors, the waiting room almost empty except for the seven of us.

Giving Callum a sheepish smile, I checked his shirt for drool. Stretching my neck, I glanced over at Liam, who was now sitting next to a sleeping Paul. Liam’s eyes were red rimmed but alert. His lips curved into a small smile as I tried to get my bearings. “Any update?”

“He’s stable. Vitals look good; we’ll hopefully know more later this morning.”

I nodded, needing to pee. I didn’t remember falling asleep, but I remembered drinking two coffees in a desperate attempt to stay awake.

That failed, and now my bladder was about to burst. I looked around, seeing the sign for the restrooms and unfolding my stiff limbs from the chair.

My hair was a mess, and I unsnapped an elastic from my wrist to toss it into a messy ponytail. Then I splashed some water on my face and rinsed out my mouth.

Daisy was handing out brown bags to everyone when I returned. “Muffins and donuts,” she said.

“God, I love you,” I said, snatching a bag and tearing off a huge chunk of the chocolate chip muffin as I sat down.

A morning talk show played low on a flat screen TV overhead. We ate, we sat, and we continued to wait. And looking around the waiting room at all the tired yet determined faces, I wanted to fall into a ball on the ground and weep.

He was so loved.

And he had no idea.

Lunchtime crawled into afternoon, and the afternoon carried news.

“He’s being transferred out of ICU now,” Liam said. “I’m going to go up and see him.”

Everyone sat forward, watching him go with hesitant smiles on our faces.

Liam saw him briefly in the ICU this morning, but he wasn’t awake, and it was immediate family only.

“Here,” Daisy said, dumping my backpack at my feet. “Your toiletries, books, pencil, eraser, sharpener, and a clean shirt and panties.”

Burrows waggled his brows at hearing the word panties, and I shook my head with a smirk. I’d have flipped him off, but that was before. Everything fell on one side during those hours. Before or after finding Toby.

I waited, feeling like my lungs would burst from holding my breath as each minute rolled by, but when Liam returned, he wouldn’t meet my eyes.

I stood. “Did something else happen?”

“No,” he said, clearing his throat. “He’s awake.”

“Okay.” I nodded repetitively. “Can I see him?”

The doors opened and closed, someone kept coughing over by the nurse’s desk, and Liam suddenly looked like he’d rather be anywhere but here. “He doesn’t want visitors right now.”

My legs buckled, and I shook my head. “I don’t need to go in. I just need to see him.”

Liam exhaled, rubbing his hand over his brow, looking so much like his son that my heart rattled. “Pippa, he’s … I tried.”

“Tried?” I asked, not understanding.

His voice lowered. “He doesn’t want anyone”—he put emphasis on anyone—“to see him like this. I’m sorry.”

I stumbled back a step, everything around me losing color as Callum took my hand and led me back to my seat. The same seat I’d been waiting in for almost twenty-four hours.

I supposed I should’ve just been grateful he was okay. And I was. I’d never been more grateful of anything in my life, but it didn’t change the fact he didn’t want to see us, to see me. It bruised my already bruised heart. All I wanted was to lay eyes on him, to see for myself he was okay.

Liam crouched down in front of me, telling us how he was doing, that it was all looking positive. The strange buzzing in my ears clouded anything else that tried to penetrate, though.

“Let’s get you home,” Daisy said when Liam rose, saying he’d be back soon and walking outside.

“I can’t.” I looked around, noticing the guys were all stretching and heading for the doors. “I can’t just …” walk away and leave my heart lying in a hospital bed somewhere in the maze of rooms above us.

Daisy understood what I was trying to say and took my face in her hands. “He’s okay. That’s what’s important. Let it hurt, but remember, he probably feels pretty out of it and shaken up right now. He doesn’t want anyone to see him like this. For many reasons, I’m thinking. We’ll come back.”

“He’s got nothing to feel embarrassed about,” I rasped, blinking back tears. Then it clicked that he’d feel ashamed. Lost. “Okay,” I said. “Okay, let’s go then.”

Daisy smiled tentatively, grabbing my bag and tugging me outside into the bright sunshine.

“Liam?”

“Hi,” he said. “One second.”

I waited, knowing he was probably stepping outside to take my call.

“How is he?” I asked when he returned.

“He’s doing well. We should be able to have him discharged by tomorrow.”

“Good,” I said, trying to force words through the boulder in my throat. “That’s good.”

“Yeah, listen. He’s not staying in Gray Springs.”

I absorbed those words for a few breaths. “I guess I knew that.”

Silence reigned over the line for a long moment. “I didn’t know. I had no idea he’d gotten this bad. I thought he was getting it together. That he was taking the medication.”

“He doesn’t seem to be a big fan of medication,” I said.

“He never has been, but he’s young, and this has shaken him up. I can see it in his eyes.”

Envy at the fact he’d seen him, could see him, and I couldn’t, slithered through me. Scaly, insidious, and entirely unwelcome. This was his son, but I loved him too. I couldn’t just switch that off.

I was petrified of what the answer might be, but I had to know. “Do you think he meant to?”

Liam puffed out a breath. “All he’s said was that he wanted it to stop. He needed it to stop. He wanted silence.”

My eyes squeezed shut, the phone slipping. I righted it, swallowing down the tears. “Is it bad that makes some sense?”

“He’s told you about it then.” Liam cleared his throat a little. “Yeah, it does make sense. But it shouldn’t have to.”

“No, it shouldn’t. Do you think I can see him before you go?”

“I can keep trying, but it just seems to agitate him, and I—”

“No,” I cut in. “I get it. Don’t stress him out.”

We said goodbye, and the phone beeped three times in my ear before my fingers opened, letting it fall to the bed in front of me.

After sitting through two classes the next morning with swollen eyes, trying to ignore the whispers and questioning gazes, I left campus and went to the hospital just as I’d done for the past three days. I was intent on simply being there. Even if he didn’t want to see anyone, I thought it might help.

Except when I got there and called Liam, his voicemail greeted me.

Daisy dragged me home two hours later after finding out from Quinn that Toby had been discharged at midday.

Back in our dorm, Daisy laid behind me. Not saying anything, she just held me as I finally set everything free. The worry, the fear, the horror, and the sorrow.

The tears were screams that made no sound, but they had my body bucking as they finally clawed their way out from somewhere deep inside me.

I’d never cried like that before. Where it felt like you were being pulled apart, piece by broken piece.

It was agonizing.

The worst pain I’d ever experience in my life.

Everything here was cream and brown.

Brown on cream.

Cream in brown.

And creamy brown.

I found it kind of unsettling until one of the nurses told me that they liked to keep the colors neutral. Certain bright colors had an adverse effect on some patients.

Patients who roamed the rec room in chattering pairs, or played cards in groups, or wandered aimlessly by themselves, talking to the potted plants that sat in each corner.

How did I get here? I kept asking myself the same thing as I walked around, watching in bewilderment when one of the patients had a meltdown on the basketball court, shouting about the devil being here among us.

The past week seemed like it’d happened in some alternate universe.

“What time is it?” I asked the good doctor.

He glanced at his watch. “Two after three.”

“Great, we still have time for a round of Backgammon before supper.”

He grinned, crossing one leg over the other. “How’re you feeling today?”

I picked up one of the stress balls on the coffee table, tossing it into the air and letting it fall into my open palm without removing my eyes from Dr. Jenson. “About the same as yesterday.”

“Good reflexes.” He nodded at the ball when it smacked into my palm. “I’m guessing from the football?”

Something sour slithered into my stomach. “I guess.”

“How long have you played?”

“I don’t,” I said. “Not anymore.”

“Why not?”

My lip curled. “Got kicked off the team. Fight.”

Dr. Jenson nodded again, writing something down in his trusty notebook.

“Do you miss it?”

“If you lost a limb, would you miss that?” I shot back.

“That depends. I’ve got a real ugly little toe I wouldn’t be sad to say goodbye to.”

I bit my tongue, trying not to laugh as I squinted at him. “Funny.”

He shrugged, clearly doodling a circle in his notebook. “Do you still play?”

“No. I’m here.”

Another nod. “Ah. And do you like it here?”

“Not really. I think Mary has it in for me.” Mary, a short, middle-aged woman, had taken it upon herself to shout obscenities at me when I least expected it.

A chuffing sound. “That’s what all my patients tell me.”

“Isn’t that confidential?”

“Probably.”

Quiet fell. He kept doodling something I couldn’t make out, but I knew he wasn’t writing. “How’s the medication making you feel?”

“I don’t feel anything yet. But I only started taking it two days ago.”

More quiet. This guy was kind of weird.

I stared around the office, taking note of his credentials on the walls and wondering if they were real. He was a joke, laugh lines surrounding his eyes, and rainbow-colored socks creeping into view below his pants.

On his desk sat a picture of him, a woman, and three kids. One of them was black, the other two white. “You adopt a child?”

“Sammy.” He smiled fondly at his drawing. “She likes cats.” He turned his notebook around to face me, showing me a child-like drawing of a cat.

He put the notebook down, clasping his hands together in front of him. “Your father seems like a good man.”

My jaw tightened, and I looked down at the floor. The memory of waking up, my head surrounded by beeping noises as I tried to clear the fog, and my eyes opening to find his worried ones on me.

He should’ve yelled at me, slapped me, called me a fucking idiot.

Yet he did none of those things. He simply said, “Boy, am I glad to see you,” before dropping his head to the bed to muffle his sobs in the hospital blanket.

“I guess you’ve seen grown men cry,” I told the good doctor, to which he just twisted his fingers around each other with a bob of his head. “It’s a pretty sobering sight.”

“It is indeed.”

I swallowed thickly, trying to rummage through the mess rotting in my head. “He didn’t deserve that. Not from me.”

“And you? What do you deserve?”

“Nothing,” I said instantly. “Not a damn thing.”

“What makes you say that?” He sat back, steepling his fingers.

Anger filled the hollow void in my chest. “We’re doing the repetitive question bullshit now?”

“If you want. I try to go with the flow.”

I jerked back, shaking my head as I relaxed a little into the cool leather of the couch.

“Tell me something,” he said. “Why are you here?”

Frowning, I stumbled over what to say. Who asked their patient that? Wasn’t it fucking obvious? “Um, because the hospital required it in order to discharge me, and well, I don’t want to feel like this anymore.”

“Like what exactly?”

The words wanted to stay trapped inside. They didn’t feel like they belonged anywhere else but my own head. I was here for a reason, though. Fuck what my head wanted. “Crazy.”

“Crazy?”

“Yes. Sometimes, I feel like I’m legitimately crazy.”

Silence arrived again, sinking into the corners of the large room and shrinking it.

“Where did you get that idea from?” the doc asked quietly, curiously.

“My mom,” I said, choking on my next words. “She was, is, crazy.”

His head tilted. “Do you believe this crazy”—he used air quotes—“is genetic?”

I scoffed. “Well, isn’t it?”

He stuck his lip out, conceding, “Sometimes. Where’s your mom? At home?”

“She left when I was nine.”

His chair let out a puff of air as he reached for his notebook and pen. “Where is she now?”

“I have no idea.”

The weeks crawled by at a pace that had me panicking—too long, too short, and still no word from him. The scratch on my head from where the frame hit it had now healed, and I found myself missing it, my fingers constantly diving into my hair to search for it.

I didn’t get to see him. My eyes couldn’t soak in the sight of him in order to placate my anxious, burning heart. What kind of cruelty was that?

The kind that spoke so quietly, it often went unnoticed.

Without the phone calls to Liam, I’d honestly fear the worst. The friends he had on the team walked around campus with fake smiles, looking as though someone had died, but they refused to let their bleeding hearts reveal themselves.

No one whispered a word about him unless I did, and even then, Daisy was the only one who’d indulge my heart.

“I’m just trying to understand. He’s allowed visitors on the weekends. He’s allowed to make phone calls.”

“His dad is trying to be nice, Pip,” Daisy said, tucking her notes away and zipping up her bag.

“He can’t just outright say that he doesn’t want to talk to me?” I asked, my hands slapping the table.

The librarian shushed me, and I glared. I swear, she made it her business to find people who talked even in areas you were allowed to talk and shushed them. She was a professional shusher; that was what she was.

Daisy shot me a look that said, no, he couldn’t say that.

I dropped my head to the table, banging it gently against the wood. “I just want to hear his voice. This isn’t fair.”

Daisy grabbed my hand. “And you’re still trying to call the facility?”

I guessed facility was a nicer term than psychiatric hospital. “Yep. Twenty-eight times now, to be exact.”

“Oh.” Her lips formed a shocked O around the word.

“I know. I’m not on his special ‘list.’”

That hurt. It nestled deep inside my chest cavity, lodging itself inside.

“Do you think we’re over?” I asked the one question I’d been agonizing over. Funny, how just weeks ago I thought it best to step back and give us some breathing room. Now, well, I could hardly breathe without him.

“I don’t know,” Daisy said, squeezing my fingers.

A month passed before I finally let myself feel it.

Anger.

How dare he just leave me to hang like this? No answers, no contact, nothing.

Again.

Not being able to help it, I kept calling the hospital he was supposedly staying at. Over and over. Like I was back in the third grade, hounding the Santa hotline to find out why he wasn’t real.

Then one day, my phone rang. It wasn’t who I needed to hear from, but it was a close enough second. I needed someplace to put this anger, this frustration, and I knew it wasn’t fair to lob it at him. But he was the one person who spoke to him, and I needed him to send a damn message.

“Pippa, you need to stop calling there.” Liam chuckled, then caught himself. “It kind of clogs up the lines.”

“He knows I’ve been calling then?” I asked.

“Uh, yes, he definitely knows. But you need to stop.”

“If he’d just talk to me, just once—”

“He won’t. He said he wants you to keep going.”

My anger vanished, and I blinked three times, trying to process what he’d said. “What?”

A long pause, then, “He wants you to move on.”

Dropping the phone, I laughed. Laughed and laughed and laughed. Move on. Like it was that fucking simple. I picked up the phone. “He honestly said that?”

“I’m sorry. I’ve tried, but this is what he wants right now, and he’s doing the right things …”

The message already delivered to my heart, my brain tuned out in an effort to stop any more damage.

“I get it. I’ve gotta go. I’m sorry.” I stared up at the ceiling, tears brimming my eyes. “I’ll stop calling now.”

Before he could respond, I hung up, then promptly threw my phone at the wall, watching as it fell to my bed, still in one unsatisfying piece.

Nausea rolled over me in a heady wave, and I stared at a crumb on the coffee table in an effort not to give in to it.

“Your girlfriend is persistent.” The good doc crossed his ankles, making my gaze shift to his fuzzy socks.

The reminder made me want to smile, but I didn’t let it happen. “It’s better this way.”

“For her? Or for you?”

What did you do? My teeth gritted as I forced out a lie over the memory of Quinn’s voice. “For her.”

My eyes blurred, the room tilting dangerously.

Dr. Jenson clicked his pen, over and fucking over. “Could you stop doing that?”

“Hmm? Oh.” He clicked it again. “It bothers you?”

“Yes,” I said through clenched teeth, trying to focus on him to right my vision.

He merely smiled but thankfully stopped. “How long do you expect she’ll wait for you?”

“Who?”

“Your girlfriend.”

“She’s not my girlfriend. Not anymore.” She was better off without me. I knew that from the start, but I’d been a selfish dick.

He poked his chin with the pen. Could this dude not sit still for one full minute? “Why not?”

“Why are we talking about this?”

He shrugged. “We can talk about whatever you want. Either way, I still get paid.”

His honesty struck me as both shocking and kind of refreshing. My stomach clenched, and bile rose steadily up my throat.

“How’s the new medication going?”

Spying a small trash can near his desk, I launched at it and hurled up the contents of my empty stomach.

The pen clicked. “Not very good then.”

I threw myself onto the leather couch, determined. “I’m going.”

“Where?”

“Home.”

The good doc put his mug down. “Oh? And why’s that?”

“Because I’ve been here almost two months and nothing’s changed.”

“Interesting. Well, you’re here of your own accord now. You can sign yourself out whenever you like.”

My jaw tightened, my feet shifting in agitation. “Great. Okay.”

“But?” he asked.

“What do you mean, but?”

“I just felt like there was a but that wasn’t said. So I said it.”

“You’re kind of strange.”

“So I’ve been told.” His smile was disarming and aggravating. “Look.” He leaned forward, clasping his hands between his knees. His stare was piercing as though he knew things about me I didn’t, but it didn’t make me uncomfortable. “You came here wanting help, right?”

I gave him a terse nod.

“That’s not going to happen overnight. Some people get lucky. The right medication, the right therapy, and the right timing. In a matter of weeks, they’re feeling like a new person. But for some others? It can take months, sometimes years.”

I swallowed, my eyes closing at the thought of having to wait that long for … what? I didn’t know. I supposed not to feel like this. “Years?”

“How old are you again?”

My eyes opened. “You’ve got the answer to that beside you on your handy client information sheet.”

He smiled once again. “Correct. But I’m asking for a reason.”

“I’ll be twenty next month.”

He sat back in his chair, scratching at his chin. “A long time to feel this way, right?”

I frowned, then it sunk in.

“You’re a strong guy for dealing with this as long as you have. Give yourself some credit.”

“Uh-huh, I’m a real hero.”

“Sarcasm. I like it. So”—he clapped his hands loudly, making me flinch—“you’ve made it even after all this time, so what’s the harm in a little more? You’re on the right track, doing what you need to do, and you’re at the right place. Have a little faith and a lot of patience.”

I smirked. “Patience and me, we’ve never really been friends.”

“You don’t need to be friends. A mutual agreement will suffice.”

By the end of March, I’d stopped calling Liam for updates. I knew he didn’t mind, and even if he did, he was probably too polite to say so. I didn’t stop for him, though. I stopped for me.

Trying to get my heart back was proving impossible, and I was sick of the hurt, sick of the tears, and sick of constantly thinking about him and what he might be doing.

Toby might have wanted me to move on, and if I knew one thing about myself, it was that I could be a stubborn bitch. Enough was enough, though. It was obvious now that I was only torturing myself. I refused to believe he actually wanted me to move on. The two words tasted foul in my mouth, and the mere thought of them sent a sharp pang all over.

Regardless, I did need to move on somehow, but I didn’t quite know how to do that.

Daisy left yesterday, heading home to Clarelle with Quinn. Apparently, after spending most of the summer break there, they were going to spend a week with her parents before arriving back for the new school year.

Daisy’s things were now at Quinn’s place. Liam was happy to continue leasing the townhouse to Quinn, and Daisy had practically moved in anyway.

I was happy she was happy. I was just angry I was still miserable.

My fear for my grades should’ve been higher, but really, I was just proud I managed to fluff my way through my final exams.

Freshman year done and dusted, I zipped my last duffel, looking around the empty dorm room one last time before I began hauling the boxes and bags downstairs and out onto the steps.

I’ll tell you what; it was sure as fuck easier taking them down than it was up. It just sucked doing it on my own. But Mom should’ve been here soon, and I didn’t feel like standing around waiting any longer.

I sat on the steps, shaded from the early June sun by the small overhang, and dug out my word search book.

A truck pulled up in front of the dorms, startling me when the horn honked.

My dad stepped out, and my jaw fell open. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m a little late to the party, but I thought it was time I did the whole father-daughter intervention thing.”

“Intervention?” I looked around, seeing a few students still loitering outside. The campus was eerily quiet, the usually deep green grass turning lighter, crunchier, and dry thanks to the heat. “Mom was picking me up.”

My dad opened the truck door, then grabbed my bags, tucking them behind the seats. “We spoke about it, and I’d like you to spend some time with me before heading home.”

He started placing boxes in the back, and my arms folded over my chest, petulant annoyance rising within. “Oh? Don’t I get a say? I’m nineteen. Pretty sure it’s a little late to discuss custody of me.”

He chuckled, walking over to wrap me in a giant hug. My annoyance dripping away, I wrapped my arms around him and closed my eyes. “You doing okay?”

“Fine.”

“Your mom told me all about what happened, but before you get mad …”

I stepped back, jumping into the truck. “I’m not mad. What I am, though, is hungry. Can we hit a drive-through?”

Looking a bit stunned by my easy acceptance, he only took a second to say, “Sure, yeah.”

My dad’s apartment was small but fairly new. What it was not, was clean. Which was surprising, given what I remembered of him growing up.

I busied myself for the first few days with cleaning out cupboards—which were kind of bare, so that was easy—and dusting everything I could see. Then I brought my best friend to the party, the Hoover, and felt my tense shoulders loosen with every sweep of the vacuum, making perfect lines in his soft beige carpet.

My dad didn’t try to stop me; he just went about his business of going to work and coming home. His avoidance of any and all Felicity talk didn’t go unnoticed, though. And on the third night there, I brought it up over the takeout he’d brought home for dinner.

Cooking? No thanks. I’ll clean all day, any day, but cooking, especially dinner, was not my strong suit. Unless you liked grilled cheese, mac and cheese, or homemade pizza.

I was a pro at all the above.

“Work has settled down then?” I asked around a bite of chicken.

My dad wiped his fingers on a piece of paper towel, nodding and chewing. “It has, but I’m taking on some extra hours.”

“Why?” I tore off another piece of chicken, chewed, and swallowed. “Felicity did a big number on you? You wanna stay busy?”

He looked like he was barely holding back a laugh, shaking his head before taking a sip of water. “It’s been a few months now. I’m perfectly fine. Trust me.”

“You haven’t heard from her?”

He shook his head again, then held up a finger. “No, wait. She did leave a message on my phone. The usual. Sorry, and it wasn’t me, she just has issues, oh, and if I was to see Toby, tell him she loves him and she’s sorry.”

The chicken fell out of my hand, my fingers still midair. “What?”

Dad smirked, grabbing my hand and patting it with some towel. I took it from him, doing it myself. “Did you call her back?”

He stared across the kitchen toward the window. “No. I probably should’ve. But it wasn’t a forever thing; it was an ‘it feels good for right now’ thing. Know what I mean?” At my scrunched nose and raised brow, he laughed. “Sometimes, you remind me so much of your mother.”

“Funny,” I said with a smirk of my own, returning to my chicken. “She said the same thing to me not too long ago about you.”

He threw me a look that said he’d like me to go on but wouldn’t ask. Instead, I changed the subject slightly. “Gotten through to Drew lately?”

Dad sighed, shoveling some pasta salad into his mouth before saying, “Last week.”

I tried not to sound too surprised. “How’d that go?”

“It went for all of three and a half minutes.”

“Well.” I bounced my head side to side. “Progress is progress.”

He laughed, then pushed his plate away. “If he doesn’t wanna play hockey, we can’t force him. It’s strange, though. I know how much he loves it.”

I nodded. “Yep, he’s quit for reasons he might never tell us.”

“I don’t think he needs to tell us,” he muttered under his breath.

“What was that?” I asked, taking a sip of water.

“Nothing. How’re you doing?”

“Good.” I set my water down, getting up to take our plates to the sink.

“Pippa,” he said firmly. “I’ve let you clean this place till it sparkled. Now it’s time to talk.”

Scraping the leftovers into the trash, I then ran the plates under the water before filling up the sink. He didn’t have a dishwasher, which I liked. Washing dishes by hand was so much more satisfying. “Toby overdosed, decided to up and leave, and doesn’t want to hear from me. What else is there to say?”

His voice softened. “How about how that makes you feel?”

I snorted. “Did your shrink teach you some things?” The words came out before I could stop them, and I cringed, hating that I said them. “Sorry.” I turned the water off, tossing my glass in before turning around and leaning against the counter. “It makes me feel like crap, okay? But I’m … I’m trying. I know it’s been months, and that I need to let go.”

I stared at the brown tiles while my dad took his time to respond. “I’m sorry,” he said.

My head lifted. “What for?”

His gaze was full of remorse for something he hadn’t done. “I guess, watching you since you got here, it’s …” He sighed. “I hate seeing you like this. And I hate that I can empathize with what he’s going through. That I understand it yet still wish I could kick his ass.”

I could taste salt in the back of my throat, and sniffed, willing the tears to stay away. “I know, it’s complicated like that.”

Needing to hide the emotions that I was sure were evident on my face, I turned back around and began washing the dishes.

Limp arms, twitching fingers. Blue lips and screaming sirens.

Wake up, wake up, wake up.

Someone yelling, “Toby.”

Wake up, wake up, wake up.

I woke up sweating, panting, and trying desperately to shake the remnants of the nightmare that I swore was real. How could months go by, yet you felt as if every important, damaging piece of your life took place only mere days ago?

My hands ripped into my hair, and I kicked the covers off, sitting up and trying to catch my breath.

Dad thumped gently on the door. “Pip? You okay?”

I’m not your second chance to fix something that can’t be fixed.

I couldn’t breathe, and the tears choked me almost as much as the panic did.

I hiccupped. The door creaked open, and then Dad was grabbing my face and swiping the tears away. “Hey, hey. It’s okay. Breathe, just breathe, come on.”

Breathe with me.

My heart shook my chest cavity, pounding so hard I could hear it echo through the guest room we were sitting in.

“One,” my dad said, inhaling.

I inhaled, my eyes wide on his.

He exhaled. I exhaled.

“Good. Two.” He inhaled slowly, and I did the same.

Not nice, is it? Expecting someone to be there, but they’re nowhere to be found.

After the third exhale, I collapsed into him. He maneuvered me into his arms, holding my head to his shoulder to rock me gently like he used to when I was a kid.

“You’ve held yourself together for a long time.” He brushed my hair back from my face, and I burrowed my nose into his shoulder, drenching his t-shirt in my snot and tears. “It’s okay to break now, Pippa.”

The memories flooded in one after another. The good, the not so good, and the really bad.

And with each and every one, I allowed myself to feel them. I allowed myself to break.

Time moved strangely while you were locked away from society.

Almost as if it was paused or you were trapped, staying behind while everyone else moved forward.

My eyes skimmed over the words in front of me, my brain absorbing sentences it’d read before like an old friend it hadn’t seen in a while. But it wasn’t the story I wanted to read.

Sighing, I closed the book and dumped it on the nightstand, sitting up to run my hands through my hair. I felt good—better than I’d ever felt before—so I knew I could probably leave soon.

Therein lay the problem with anxiety-based fears.

Change.

The routines you grew used to settled deep into the marrow of your bones, burrowing, making themselves comfortable, then encouraging your skin to grow over and ignore them. To let them be, for they were content with how things were.

I didn’t want to live my life in here, and that wasn’t possible anyway. But that fear, that gnawing pest that came knocking was concerned about how long this might last.

You feel good now, but wait until you’re out there, it warned.

“You have a visitor,” Jackie, a nurse said, knocking lightly on my door.

Frowning a little, I thanked her before wondering who it could be.

My dad was the only one who visited me here. I didn’t know if any others were permitted to come on Sundays, which was when they allowed visitors for a few hours after lunch because no one else had ever come.

Only one name was down on the list as a definite no.

Ignoring the guilt over that, I walked out into the visitation room, my eyes roaming over the few families sitting together, some kids playing in the toy corner, and then Quinn.

I walked over to where he was sitting in the far corner in an armchair, and he stood as I neared.

Half hugs and back slaps were exchanged, and damn it all to hell, I nearly fucking cried.

“Man, you’re such an asshole.” He grabbed my shoulders, shaking me before pulling me in for a proper hug.

“Sit down before I start crying or something,” I said, shoving him to his seat.

Chuckling, he folded himself back into his chair, and I sat in the opposite one.

“You need a haircut,” I said, watching him shove his hand through his golden hair.

“You need to hit the gym,” he said, mirth filling his hazel eyes as they gave me a brief once-over.

“I have been. But they’re not as big on weight training here.” I knew I’d lost some muscle mass, but I still had a four-pack, so I wasn’t going to lose any sleep over it.

“You look good,” Quinn said, sobering. “You really do, dude.”

“I feel good.” I relaxed back into the chair on a long exhale. “I thought this place might be a waste of time.”

“It’s not,” Quinn said firmly.

“No. Though I did wonder if they were trying to poison me for a while there.”

“New meds?” I nodded, and he winced. “Fun times. You found some that’ve stuck, I take it?”

“Yeah, and a doctor who seems to be crazier than anyone in here, but he’s good.”

“When are you getting out?”

“Soon, I think.”

“What are you doing after?”

“I’ll probably spend the rest of summer at home. Take some time to think about what I’m going to do.”

My teeth wobbled my lip as the temptation to ask about Pippa grew, but I kept my mouth shut. It wasn’t fair to find out via secondhand information, and honestly, I didn’t know if I could handle knowing she was doing well. And I most definitely couldn’t handle knowing she wasn’t, either.

“Right, good. Not gonna lie. You had us worried.” Quinn laughed then but without any humor. “No, fuck that. You had us fucking petrified.”

He hesitated, looking down at his hands. “You can ask. I’m not suicidal, man. Never was.”

“Never?” He raised a brow.

Truth time. “I’d thought about it. Quite a lot.” I cleared my throat, thinking about how to explain something that barely even made sense to me. “I didn’t want to die. But it … it gets pretty fucked up”—I pointed at my head—“in here. OCT, they call it.”

“OCT? Like OCD?”

“Yeah, apparently obsessive-compulsive thoughts are the root of all my demons.”

“Jesus,” Quinn breathed, listening as I explained some of it to him. If I thought he’d balk or get freaked out by anything I said, his next words confirmed just how wrong I’d been. “So you just wanted them to stop? The thoughts, the anxiety they caused?”

“Exactly. And taking all those pills …” I shook my head. “Spontaneous decision after what happened with Pippa. I lost my reason for being there, or anywhere. I don’t know why I did it, but I can’t remember ever feeling as low as I did at that point. Ever.”

My eyes shut momentarily as those days, that whole week, steamrolled behind my closed lids. The feeling of being nothing but a constant fuckup, the twitching of my muscles every time I thought about having to wake up and figure out how to get through another day when I didn’t even know what the next hour would bring.

Pippa, every thought of Pippa. How could I piss her off, how could I get back at her for what I thought she supposedly did to me when, in reality, she’d never done anything but love me and try to live her life. At the time, I knew that. Somewhere deep down, I knew that.

It didn’t stop me, though. I couldn’t even stop me.

My eyes opened, blinking wetness away. “Dad said some of the guys came by the hospital?”

“They did,” Quinn confirmed. “Stayed all night.”

My ears rang, and I coughed, trying not to let more guilt choke me. “I’m sorry,” I said quietly.

Quinn simply nodded, then asked if I wanted to talk football.

The familiar pang hit my chest at hearing the word. But I wanted to know, so I tried to relax again and said, “What kind of question is that?”

Quinn laughed, sitting back and resting his hands over his stomach before diving into the Tomahawks’ epic play-off fail.

Same routine, different home.

My dad dropped me off after a week at his place. I’d like to think it was because it was time I go home, but I knew deep down he was struggling with what to do with me.

The weird thing was, when he dropped me off, Mom smiled at him. Like they were friends. Like they hadn’t struggled to be in each other’s presence over the past five years.

They disappeared into her room, all hushed voices and barely audible movements as I listened with my ear pressed against the door. When my dad opened the door, strolling out and whistling—freaking whistling—I barely jumped out of the way and ran down the hall in time to avoid detection.

Drew ignored him, grunting a stiff goodbye that didn’t seem to faze Dad in the slightest as he walked out the door.

I’d looked at Drew, who shrugged and went back to playing the Xbox.

And as much as I hounded Mom, she wouldn’t budge. “We’re adults, Pippa,” she constantly repeated. “We can be civil and act like them.”

Right. Civil my left butt cheek.

Daisy called at least twice a week, filling me in on her sunny days spent on the Burnell farm. I found myself looking forward to her calls and laughed way too much over the story of a rogue bull who’d busted down an old fence and charged after her. She’d explained it all in a rush as if an axe murderer had been after her, and how her life had flashed before her eyes.

I need a life, I thought to myself, buttering some toast at the kitchen counter, still chuckling over Daisy’s retelling.

I used to have some semblance of a life. What happened to it?

He happened to it. As quick as it came, I batted the thought away. It was hard to remain angry with someone when he was putting his needs first. When he was finally doing the right thing for himself.

When a huge part of you felt overwhelmed with pride for him.

My heart was proud of him, but my heart was also too hurt to ignore everything he’d done.

“Pippa, I swear to God. Reorganize my closet one more time, I dare you,” my mom hissed, appearing out of nowhere and waving a shoe at me.

Whoa. “Jesus.” Dropping my toast, I stepped away from the pointed heel. “Don’t be so ungrateful.”

“Ungrateful?” she all but wheezed, her face contorting. I tried not to laugh. “I’ve been late for work three times since you’ve been here. Three times.”

“Your lack of organization skills isn’t my problem,” I said, grabbing the dish towel and snapping it in my hands.

“How long you home for?” Drew asked, stepping around us to get a spoon for his cereal. “I think I might move out, go camp out in the shed until you leave.”

I threw my arms out. “Shit on a shish kebab, what is wrong with this family? Have you no appreciation for a little help?”

“My fucking briefs are my business,” Drew said.

“So clean out your business! Who the hell leaves an apple core in their top drawer anyway?”

My mom turned her horrified face to Drew, who shrugged. “It was on the nightstand and probably fell in. Who cares?”

“You watch your mouth, Drew. I’ve still got a dish scrubber with your tongue’s name on it.”

Drew guffawed. “What? Pippa can swear like a sailor, and I can’t say fuck?”

“She’s over eighteen.”

Drew scoffed. “Like that matters. Fuck, fuck, fuckity fuck.”

Mom grabbed the towel from my hand, chasing after him and trying to swat him with it.

Drew squealed, dropping his cereal and laughing as he ran out of the room and up the stairs. “You can’t discriminate just because I’ve got junk and I’m the youngest!”

“I’ll show you fuckity fuck,” Mom grumbled, climbing upstairs after him. “Discriminate this!”

I blew out a humorous sigh before going to clean up the cereal. “Bunch of crazy turds.”

“Pippa! Time for you to get the hell gone!” Drew hollered.

“Time for you to shut the hell up!” I hollered back, closing the book I’d been carting everywhere with me. My bags were already packed, so I tucked the book inside one and took a last quick look around at all the posters, books, knickknacks, and my lime green checkered duvet.

I didn’t want to leave. Being back in the same room I grew up in filled me with memories that might have hurt, but I could tolerate that kind of pain.

My dad still had the rest of my stuff from school, seeing as he was taking me back to look at new housing before the fall semester began. I didn’t care where I lived. I just wanted a different dorm and to be preferably as far away from the townhouse as possible. Even if I knew it wasn’t exactly possible.

Daisy and Quinn had said I could stay with them if I didn’t find a new room right away. No thanks, I’d rather sleep in a tent.

Petty was me, but I wasn’t messing around.

Outside, Dad was making room in the truck, so I went back inside to grab a soda, steal a pack of mints from the pantry, and say goodbye.

“Where’s Mom?” I asked Drew when he slung an arm around my shoulder.

He ruffled my hair, and I punched him in the gut. “Oomph,” he grunted.

“Hands off the goods then, grub face.”

I scrambled out of the kitchen before he could retaliate but stopped when I saw Mom in the hall, standing in front of the fancy mirror she’d hung on the wall years ago.

My brow rose as I watched her finish applying a nude gloss to her lips. She fluffed her hair, turned her face this way and that, then nodded at her reflection.

“You look beautiful,” I said, making her freeze.

“Shush you,” she said, swatting me on the arm. Then she whispered, “Does this top show too much of the girls?”

Laughing, I swatted her back, then gave her a hug. Her hands smoothed over my hair and down my back as she continued to hold me a moment longer than usual. “You’re going to be just fine, my girl. But just in case, I’ve put a gift card for the homeware store in your bag. There’s fifty percent off vacuum cleaners for another week.”

Wiping away a rogue tear, I gave her a wobbly smile as she patted my cheek.

“Heard you got yourself a new girlfriend,” Dad said to Drew as Mom and I walked outside.

“Heard you decided you want to be a dad now,” Drew shot back from where he stood on the porch. “I got myself a girlfriend a while ago, which you’d know had you been here.”

“Drew,” Mom warned, but her tone lacked conviction, knowing he had some right to say what he did.

Drew shrugged, then stalked back inside as Dad looked after him for a long, awkward second. “I had that coming, so don’t worry about it.”

“I wasn’t planning to,” I remarked, smirking at him as he pulled me into a side hug.

Popping some mints into my mouth, I watched from the passenger seat as Mom spoke quietly with him, her eyes darting all over his face.

Love made us all suckers.

My head rested against the window as road signs, long-stretching fields, and colored blurs of cars fell away faster than my tired eyes could keep up with.

My dad didn’t talk for a long while, which I was thankful for, as he switched radio stations every five minutes. His taste in music ranged from the eighties until now. You couldn’t say he had a favorite music genre. He simply hit the dial as soon as he was ready for something new.

“Do you know what you’re majoring in yet?” he asked.

That question grated on my last nerve. Probably because I still didn’t have a clue and said as much. “What are you interested in? You could always design your own word search books, crosswords, or hey, maybe even an app?”

“I’m not very creative. I prefer to just enjoy the finished product, thanks.”

“Okay, no artsy stuff for you. What about animals? You like dogs.”

“We haven’t had a dog since I was seven,” I reminded him.

He frowned at the road. “It’s been that long since Gilbert died?”

“Yup,” I said, reaching into my bag to grab some more mints. He held his palm out, and I reluctantly gave him two. He scoffed but chucked them into his mouth.

“I thought about nursing, but I don’t know. Seems a little cliché now.”

“What do you mean?” He flicked on the turn signal, exiting off the highway.

My stomach turned over as the sign telling us Gray Springs was five miles away came into view.

“Cliché? Why?”

“You know why,” I said quietly.

“Think on it. Maybe take some time this semester to let your hair down and try new things.”

“I did that last year and look what happened,” I grumbled, chomping down hard on the peppermint, my eyes watering as my taste buds burned.

He shot me a look, and I huffed. “Okay. I’m not attending social mixers, though. No way. Not today or any other day.”

“You don’t need to. Just watch, observe, and ask questions.”

Chewing on my lip for a minute, I pondered something. “What made you decide to become a builder?”

He chuckled at that. “I didn’t.” Turning down a backstreet, he continued, “I went to college for hockey. Took some business classes, and when I knocked your mother up and didn’t get drafted, I made good use of my abilities.”

My nose wrinkled. “Nice.”

His voice contained both laughter and nostalgia. “I’d like to say I wouldn’t change a thing, but you and I both know that isn’t true. But, well, I wouldn’t change a thing back then, not from those years. I took some carpentry classes and worked on a site just out of town, then I graduated. So did your mom; although she was six months pregnant at the time.”

“Quitting hockey didn’t faze you?” I found that hard to believe.

“Oh no, it definitely did. And I didn’t quit. I was good, but I knew I wasn’t quite good enough. Besides, I had your mom, and you were on your way. Those things made me even happier than playing.”

“And what, you just started your own business, right out of college?”

He barked out a laugh. “No. I worked my ass off, working long hours with Jamison Homes. Eventually, we saved up enough to put a down payment on a block of land of our own, but your mom …” He smiled, pulling up outside a block of units on the commercial side of campus. “She wouldn’t let me. Jamison Homes went up for sale, and she said she’d divorce me if I didn’t buy them out.”

“Wow,” I said, smiling. “That’s why you built our house?”

He nodded, turning the ignition off. “I’d always planned to, but it just took a little longer. You were starting preschool when construction began.”

I barely looked at our surroundings, too greedy for more information. Mom had always said they met in college. I just didn’t know when. “Did you guys start going out in freshman year?”

A huge grin morphed my dad’s features, making him look years younger as the sun shone in on his face. “We met then, sure.”

“Uh-oh. Continue.”

He looked out the window, seeming like he was someplace else entirely. “I met her in freshman year. We shared some of the same classes, but she had a boyfriend from high school.”

“Oh, you dirty dog.”

Laughing, he held up his hands. “I didn’t do anything too … untoward. I waited, made sure she knew I was waiting, and eventually, she dumped him for me.” He then grudgingly added, “Took her a good six months, but I let that slide.”

“Sure, you did.” I smiled, feeling some of the weight in my chest ease.

“Anyway, let’s go.” He opened the door, grabbing some of my bags.

“Wait,” I said, looking around. The street we were on joined with Main Street, and students were already walking around, cars lining the walkway. Tearing my eyes away from a group of people lifting boxes out of a trunk, I opened the door. “Where are you going?”

“To your new place,” Dad said, balancing a box on his knee as he dug a key out from his back pocket. Noticing my stunned expression, he rolled his eyes. “Hurry up. Your shit weighs a ton, and my bones aren’t what they used to be.”

Snapping out of it, I grabbed whatever bags my hands could carry and shoved the door closed with my hip.

The complex was at least ten stories tall, sandwiched neatly between two buildings that rose twice its height into the unbroken blue sky.

“It’s a walk up,” my dad huffed out once we reached the second landing. “But I managed to score you one here.”

“Seriously, how did you do this?” I dumped my bags, looking up and down the hallway. Music filtered out of some of the closed doors, but it was otherwise quiet. A lot quieter than the dorms.

“I have a fair bit of money saved for you kids. All the money your mom wouldn’t take.” Managing to get the door opened, he walked in. “It’s furnished but only with the basics. It’ll do till you graduate, though.”

“It’ll do all right,” I muttered, walking past two bedrooms, both with beds. One a double and the other a single. There was a chest of drawers in each room, and even a desk in the main bedroom.

The bathroom was small, but oh my God, I had my own freaking bathroom. I dropped my stuff to the ground. “Fuck, yes.” I ran inside it, looking around the small space and petting the glass shower door. It even connected to the main bedroom.

“You all right there?” my dad asked with a brow raised in the doorway.

“I’ve never been better,” I breathed. “You don’t know hell until you share a communal bathroom with sixteen other girls on your floor.”

His laughter echoed back to me as he walked out, and I followed behind him.

“Well, the rent is paid for the next six months. Gives you time to find a roommate.”

“Six months? Dad, you don’t—”

“Don’t even say it.” The hard look on his face had my mouth snapping shut.

“Consider it not said.” I smiled.

He showed me the kitchen, the living room, which was furnished with two old yet clean looking couches, a TV unit, and a small dining table. “There’s a washing machine in here.” He opened a door just off the kitchen. “No dryer.”

“I’ll get a clothes rack.”

After carrying all my stuff upstairs, we walked down the street and turned onto Main Street, heading toward a small Italian diner. “I still can’t believe this,” I said, slurping up my spaghetti. “Did Mom know?”

“She did, yes. She told me not to, but I didn’t listen.”

“Can I just say that I’m really thankful you didn’t?”

He took a sip of his water before grabbing my hand with both of his. “It’s good to see you smile.”

“It feels good to smile,” I admitted.

His gaze darted over my shoulder briefly when a loud group of guys walked in. “You going to be all right?”

He was smiling, but his eyes gave away his worry. “I hope so,” I said.

I could tell he was hoping for more, but it would have to be enough. For him and especially for me.

The hot water was bliss, the water pressure perfection, but they couldn’t erase the remnants of the nightmare that tried to leap from the darkness and follow me into daylight hours.

But as shaken up as it made me feel, I wouldn’t let it paralyze me.

Shutting off the water, I grabbed a towel and made a mental checklist of everything I needed to do in the next twenty minutes. Brush my teeth, dress, put mascara on and fix my tangled hair, grab my biology notes, then meet Daisy at the Bean Stream by eight fifteen.

I walked out the door with two minutes to spare, smiling once my feet hit the pavement outside my apartment building. Oh, the perks of living close to better coffee.

Pushing open the door, I inhaled deeply, marching straight over to the counter to order an extra strong flat white and a croissant.

“Oh, Lord. Did you even sleep?” Daisy asked when I sat down across from her at the small table by the front window.

“Gee, thanks.” I whipped out my phone, using it to briefly check my reflection. “Maybe I should’ve gone with some concealer.”

“Still having bad dreams?”

Tucking my phone away, I thanked the barista who delivered my coffee. “Yeah, not as frequent, but just one a week is bad enough.” I shivered, mockingly at first, until my back shuddered. My fingers tore some buttery pastry from the croissant, and I chewed while Daisy watched me.

“Have you thought about seeing someone?” At my raised brow, she waved her hand. “No, like a therapist.”

“For what? A broken heart?” I scoffed, shoving some more croissant into my mouth, then prepping my coffee. “Did you?”

A faint smile touched Daisy’s lips. “Oh, snap.”

“Anyway, Tim’s reopened the parlor, and I start back tomorrow. Are you taking any shifts?”

He had closed it over the summer to take a vacation overseas with his wife and twelve-year-old son.

Daisy sipped her coffee, then shook her head, her blond messy bun spilling tendrils over her neck and cheeks. “No. Don’t get me wrong, I like working there, but I don’t need to.”

“Dude, I like it too, but if I didn’t have to, I wouldn’t either. No need to explain.”

“I told him to keep me on call, you know, in case someone gets sick. I’m happy to help out if he gets stuck.”

The little café hummed around us as we talked about our new class schedules, my apartment, and some party that was being thrown for the freshman.

The little bell’s tinkle over the door rose above the hum, and Daisy’s eyes widened a fraction as she stared behind me. “What?” I tossed a glance over my shoulder, spying Renee.

She spied us back, hesitating a moment before lifting her hand in a brief wave.

Daisy looked like she was either about to burp really loudly or burst into tears. “She waved at me.”

“Us,” I said, sipping some coffee.

Her hands were fanning her face. I grabbed them, pushing them down to the table. “Would you chill?” I laughed.

“Sorry, it’s just, Jesus.”

“It’s Jesus?”

Her scowl made me laugh harder. “You know what I mean. I thought she probably didn’t like me.”

“Why?” I pushed the last piece of my croissant into my mouth and spoke around it. “Because you kissed her—”

My eyes bugged out as Daisy slapped her hand over my mouth. “Shush. She might hear you.”

Swallowing, I pushed her hand away. “She knows.”

“Yeah.” Her eyes flitted over to the takeout line before she slumped back into her seat. “But I got a wave, and so I don’t want to remind her.”

“It was just a kiss.”

Daisy raised a sleek brow. “Two.” She paused, thinking. “I think.”

Renee got her coffee and left, which prompted me to check the time. “Better get moving.”

We packed up and headed outside, the sun’s warmth beating down on us like a sleepy heartbeat. Strong and determined to get stronger.

I missed winter.

“I’ll text you later,” Daisy said, tucking her portfolio under her arm.

I crossed the street, heading toward the entry closest to the library.

A few people were walking by but not enough to keep me from seeing him.

My feet stopped, the sudden lack of movement almost sending me to the pavement in a messy heap.

Toby stopped walking.

I could feel my pulse vibrating in my neck as I stared.

He stared back.

His hair was slightly longer, kissing his shadowed cheekbones when the breeze touched it. His shirt didn’t quite hug his muscled arms the way it used to, as though he’d lost weight. Other than that, he looked exactly the same.

The bright blue of his eyes locked with mine, and even with the distance between us, I could read his intentions. He started walking, a careful smile tilting up those lips.

My own lips wobbled, the hair rising at the nape of my neck. I couldn’t do this.

He came back.

Holy German measles. I couldn’t do this, but I also couldn’t move.

A car honked, and someone called out, “Hey, Pippa. You still coming?”

Perplexed, I glanced at the car idling behind me at the curb.

Renee was behind the wheel with a tight look on her face. “Huh?” Then it clicked. “Oh, right.”

Get in the car with Callum’s kind of weird ex-girlfriend, or finally come face to face with the reason for my heart’s demise.

Forcing my gaze to the ground, I made my feet move and dived for the passenger door, dumping myself inside.

She drove away from the curb, and I didn’t dare look at Toby. I kept staring straight ahead as though this was always the plan.

“You okay?” Renee asked, turning the corner and stopping at a red light while students crossed the road.

“I think so?” I had no idea why it sounded like more of a question. I didn’t know much of anything. Why was he back? Why didn’t I know until now? So many whys.

Feeling as though I might smack my head into the dash out of pure, soul-wrenching frustration, I took a few steadying breaths and forced myself to settle back into the plush leather seat.

“Whoa, you’re shaking.”

“Am I?” Lifting my hands, I watched them tremble. “Well, would you look at that. I guess I am.” I quickly stuffed them between my thighs.

Familiar strains dispersed from the speakers. I laughed as the chorus hit, and Lily Allen sang, Fuck you very much.

“Nice song choice.”

“Thanks,” she said, turning into campus and parking in the lot behind the auditorium. “It helps prevent road rage. Or just rage in general.”

Blinking slowly, I mumbled, “Okay then.”

“So he’s back,” she said abruptly, unclipping her seat belt and reaching into the back seat.

“Looks like it.”

Renee slouched back down, a folder in her hands. Though with her posture, I doubt she could ever truly slouch effectively. “I heard some things,” she said, now digging in her center console. “You don’t need to tell me, but what was his deal?”

A tube of red gloss in hand, she unfolded the sun visor and slid open the tiny mirror door, painting her lips while I tried to decide what the hell to say.

Yes, she’d rescued me just minutes ago, but I didn’t owe her anything. And why, oh fucking why, did I still feel like I had to defend him after the way he left me to rot these past months?

I swiped my clammy hands on my blue and white polka-dot skirt. “Toby.” Ugh, just saying his name felt like I was brushing a razor blade over my tongue, trying not to cut myself. “He has mental health … um, problems.”

She scoffed. “Don’t we all.” My spine stiffened, and she winced apologetically. “My bad. I’m guessing his run deeper than the typical teenage angst everyone else struggles with.”

“Much,” I said.

Renee capped her gloss, lifting the console lid and dropping it inside before slamming it shut. “You guys broke up because of it?” She ran a red-painted nail under her bottom lip, then shut the mirror and visor.

“I guess you could say that.”

“That would be a lot to handle.”

My sigh felt like it’d drag out of me forever until I cut it off with my words. “It got bad, yes. But I never wanted to leave him because of it. I wanted him to get help, to start realizing how much it was affecting not only him, but also everything and everyone around him.”

“You gave him an ultimatum?”

“Kind of. I just needed time to catch my breath.” To breathe without my worry for him clouding my better judgment. “It backfired. He took it the wrong way.”

“He was in hospital earlier this year, right?”

Lifting my bag to my lap, I opened the door. I’d said enough. “Don’t believe all the rumors.”

I jumped down from her Range Rover, closing the door as she got out and said, “But if the rumors are true …”

Slinging my bag over my shoulder, I walked beside her through the lot. “It’s more complicated than what any rumor could suggest.”

Renee was quiet a moment. “You still love him.”

I almost tripped on a large piece of loose gravel but kept moving. “Aren’t you little miss observant.”

“What happened on the street just five minutes ago?” She laughed. “It was like watching a train wreck about to happen in slow motion. But the second I offered you a chance to escape the carnage, everything sped up, and you couldn’t move fast enough.”

“He left. It’s over.”

Renee exhaled loudly, adjusting her green sundress as we approached the science building. “It’s never really over, is it?” Her eyes were full of empathy as she looked at me, but then the shield came down, and her lips tipped into a sly smile. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

I watched as she walked toward the quad, the skirt of her dress swinging almost as fast as my heart was still racing.

He was back.

It didn’t matter. I’d been an idiot to ignore a fact I knew so well.

Those with troubled minds, they didn’t stay. They always left.

The three days that’d passed since I arrived back on campus made me realize one thing hadn’t changed.

I was still a coward.

What the hell did you say to someone you shut out for no good reason other than your own pathetic excuses?

Which might’ve made sense then, but they didn’t now. Now that I could finally breathe with a lighter chest, and my head wasn’t constantly weighed down by a thousand conflicting thoughts.

Pippa would probably still be better off without me. Someone probably deserved her more than I did.

But no one would love her like I did.

It wasn’t some bold statement in an effort to claim rights over her; it was a truth that rang louder than anything I’d ever heard.

No one would love her like I would.

They wouldn’t know the shape of her heart, the texture of her skin, and the color of her smile as vividly as I did. As though they were molded from the deepest recesses of my imagination and brought to life in a way that shook my soul in two.

She took half, and I gladly let her.

But I needed to see her. At the very least, I needed to lay my eyes upon her. Properly. Watching her run away from me didn’t count.

Christ, that stung.

“What happened to just keep knocking?” Quinn asked, sliding some bread into the toaster.

“Sure, yeah. That’d be great. Except I don’t even know where she lives because someone”—I turned a glare at Daisy—“won’t tell me.”

Daisy looked anywhere but at me, then shrugged, smiling down at her magazine.

Quinn uncapped the peanut butter. “The apartments off campus.”

I barely stopped my eyes from rolling. “Which one? There’s, like, ten of them.” He went to cut in, his eyes filled with asshole-ish humor. “And if you say to keep knocking, I’ll kick your ass out.”

“You can’t do that. Your dad loves me.”

“He loves me more,” I said.

Daisy laughed, and I turned on her again. “Why won’t you tell me anything?”

She lifted her mug to her mouth, taking a sip. “It’s …” Her shoulders dropped. “She’s been hurting a lot, and I know, you couldn’t help most of what happened, but I’m not helping you force your way in when I don’t know if she’d want that.”

That sounded fair, but it still made my fists clench. “She talk about me?”

“Toby,” she warned. “I’m not breaking girl code.”

“Girl code? What about ‘you’re living here with your boyfriend so help your landlord out’ code?”

She put her mug down, leveling Quinn with a look that made his eyes widen when he, in turn, looked at me. “Quit playing the landlord card.”

“It’s getting old, isn’t it?” I conceded.

“It’s not even five minutes old, and it’s already old.”

“What a short, miserable life-span.” I sighed, making Daisy laugh.

The toaster popped, sending one of the pieces flying onto the counter. It was black. “Shit,” hissed Quinn, picking it up and dumping it into the trash. “Why didn’t anyone tell me the settings were fucked?”

“Take it up with the landlord,” Daisy suggested.

Arriving at class five minutes early awarded me any seat I wished, and I chose well, sitting down in the very front corner.

People thought they could hide in the back, when the truth was, hiding in plain sight was so much easier. I’d done it yesterday, too.

“Toby?”

And it appeared my time in hiding was now over.

“Dude!” Paul jumped over the chairs, whacking his leg on the table and cursing as he fell into the seat beside me.

“You suck.”

He punched me in the arm, and I winced. “More like you suck. What the hell? Where you been?”

“Some kind of psychiatric hospital.”

He didn’t balk, just nodded. “And what, they like, fixed you?”

I smiled. “I guess you could say that.”

My head was shoved into his neck half a second later, which I thought was a joke until he whispered, “Pull that shit again, and I’ll beat your ass till you’re singing the alphabet backward.”

Tears sprung to my eyes, and I beat them back. “Sorry.”

His arm tightened, then he let go, shoving me in the chest. “Motherfucker. You wanna get high, we’ll show you a better way.”

I shook my head, not wanting to explain it, especially not here. “There’ll be no substance abuse of any kind for me, so mark me off any party invites for a while.”

“Not even alcohol?”

The professor walked in, carrying a box with an old overhead projector. “Not even alcohol. I feel good, and I don’t want to mess with that.”

More like I was petrified something would mess with that.

After class, Burrows found me outside, hooting and throwing himself around, trying to tackle me to the ground. A brief rundown had him smiling like a goober. “So proud.” He pinched my cheeks, and I swatted his hands away. “Nah, for real. You keep being your badass self.” A few girls walking by waved at him, prompting him to ask, “Want some fresh meat? Or you still dating that Pippa chicka?”

Paul scowled. “Respect, dude. Get some.”

Burrows threw his hands up. “Just checking. Shit.”

“Ready for the preseason game?” I asked, which had them blinking and stalling.

“Uh, yeah. Actually, Coach has some new kids lined up. They seem all right.”

“We’re gonna need better than all right after getting our asses fucked three ways from Sunday at the play-offs,” Burrows grumbled.

He was always a sore loser, but he had nothing on me.

We finished talking about the game, and I said I might come. Uncertainty still had a strong hold on a lot of things to do with this place, especially regarding football, but I wanted to try. Plus, I had a shit ton of work to catch up on if I still wanted to graduate with the rest of my class. Extra courses, some of which I was taking online, but I’d manage. I just needed to get through this first semester, then it would hopefully ease up.

The breeze ran cool over the nape of my neck as I traipsed back along the path with my head inclined, heading for the cafeteria.

A gasp pulled me up short when I stepped inside the air-conditioned building, halting just outside the entrance to the cavernous space that held mouthwatering scents. I was starving, but I’d know that gasp anywhere and told my hunger to beat it.

“Pip-squeak,” I said in a rush, terrified she’d run away again, terrified she’d stay.

Her green eyes were wild with emotions I couldn’t see long enough to name. Those plump lips, pink and slightly parted, letting a weighted breath escape. But her posture was so stiff; I wanted to take her into my arms, in hopes she might melt and her muscles would relax.

I did this to her. I’d made her afraid of this moment, of me, of us.

“Hi,” she said after an excruciatingly long moment.

At a loss for what to say, I simply stared at her, watching her tense shoulders slowly loosen. It seemed stupid to say hello or to ask how she was given the time lapse and obvious tension. “Are you okay?”

I think I was more shocked than she was by the words that rolled out of my mouth without my permission, yet they seemed fitting.

Her laugh was hoarse, but I still swayed toward it. “Are you?” she asked instead of answering.

I smiled a real, genuine, honest to God smile. Her eyes shuttered briefly, and she took a step back. “I’m good, but I could be better. Wanna take a walk?”

She glanced down at the ground, shifting in her ballet flats. Her legs, usually pale and snowy like the rest of her complexion, now had a slight tan.

My want for her couldn’t ever be tamed, but shit, visuals of them wrapped around my waist didn’t help. At fucking all.

“I can’t, I’m sorry.” Then she was walking away.

I couldn’t let her do that again, so I jogged out of the building after her. She stopped when she heard my footsteps crunching over the pebbles, spinning around to face me with water clouding her eyes. “I said I can’t, Toby.”

“Just five minutes, please.”

A dry laugh flew into my ears. “You know what I would’ve given to have just five minutes of your time these past seven months?”

I sucked my lips into my mouth, cringing as she laughed again.

“That’s right. It’s a long fucking time to be left in the dark. You should know that better than anyone. So no, you don’t get five minutes. You shouldn’t even be getting these seconds.” She stormed off, but then she stopped, looking frustrated as she gazed back at me. “I’m glad you’re okay. I am. But you can’t magically make me the same way just because you’re ready.”

Her words hit with scary accuracy, slamming into my chest and sending shockwaves rippling through my bloodstream. I couldn’t move because she was right.

It was all I could do to keep breathing as I watched her walk away once again.

During my stay at home over the remainder of summer, I told my dad about what happened with Felicity.

Yeah, I used her name now. You could have a mom, but unless she acted like one, she didn’t really deserve the title. And I didn’t feel one shred of guilt over not using it anymore.

Dad had seemed shocked but only for a minute.

I apologized for not telling him sooner, but all he said was, “She left, but she left my heart behind when she did. I hope she decides to get well one day, but I stopped losing sleep over her years ago.”

With a pointed look at me, he left the room, leaving me to dissect his words. Left his heart behind. Me. He was talking about me. And I thought I’d left the tears behind back in Millstone’s psychiatric facility.

Apparently not, I thought to myself, blinking frantically as I retreated to my room.

The rest of the day raced by, and after making myself and Quinn dinner, not from a box for once, I just wanted to squeeze in as much studying as I could before I passed out.

It was a good plan, only Pippa’s words wouldn’t leave me the hell alone long enough to even take a piss.

“So it didn’t go too well,” my dad said.

“You can say that again.”

“So it didn’t go too well,” he repeated.

“Jesus, not the time for dad jokes.”

He told me to wait a minute as he ordered some takeout. I rummaged through my drawers, looking for my book. I swear I’d left it behind before leaving for Millstones. Dad had taken most of my junk home when he was here—what he could fit in the car anyway—in case I didn’t come back.

It was all unpacked within hours of me arriving last weekend, but I couldn’t find it.

It should be here. But it wasn’t here.

Deep breath.

I sat myself down and listened as my dad paid for his dinner and came back on the line. “Sorry, they always forget the ranch. Drives me nuts.”

“Did I bring a book home?”

“You’ve got a few books here, too many for me to know which one you’re talking about.”

“Never mind,” I said. Get over it. It’ll show up, or it won’t, I told myself.

“Pippa’s probably shitty with me too, if it’s any consolation.”

I heeled off my shoes, lining them up next to my dresser. “Why would she be pissed with you?”

“Shitty, not pissed.”

“There’s a difference?”

“Yep, I think so.”

I shook my head. “Okay, so why?”

“For not doing more when she wanted to talk to you.”

I had weeks at home after rehab when I could’ve called her myself. “She wouldn’t be. And it’s not the kind of conversation we can have on the phone.”

“What isn’t?”

“Why I wouldn’t talk to her while I was away. I’ll … I don’t know, give her a few days and try again.” I hit the loudspeaker button, getting some clothes out to take a shower after I got off the phone.

Dad was quiet. The kind of quiet that meant he wanted to say something but wasn’t sure if he should. “What?”

“Nothing. I just think there’s giving her space, and there’s giving her too much space.”

“I don’t particularly want dating advice, Dad. No offense.”

“He’s right,” Quinn said, and I looked over to find him eating a sandwich at the door.

My dad sounded smug. “Thanks, Quinn.”

“No worries.”

“Seriously?” I slammed my top drawer.

Quinn nodded, not understanding that I was actually miffed he was listening in and not in the market for more abstract advice. “Oh, yeah. You gotta give her enough time to stew for a little while, then it’s time to pounce. Don’t leave it too long, or she starts hating you for not caring enough.”

“Exactly right,” my dad said. “I’d say about four, five o’clock tomorrow would be your best shot.”

“Jesus,” I wheezed.

“She’ll have you on her mind, doubting, full of confusion, then wham! You strike before she starts outright loathing your mere existence again.”

“You guys—”

My dad cut me off. “You’re receiving solid information here.”

“I’ve got work to do,” I said, getting my laptop from my dresser and placing it on the bed.

“And don’t take flowers. Pippa doesn’t seem the type for flowers.”

Quinn agreed. “Maybe some corn chips and salsa, or some of those chocolates or breath mints you see her harassing the vending machines for.”

“Okay, thank you and good night.”

I ended the call, slamming the door in Quinn’s grinning face at the same time.

“I’m just saying, would it kill you to talk to him?”

I turned slowly, leveling Daisy with the kind of glare that should’ve made her shrink. She merely smiled. “Um, yes. It just might.”

Sighing, she tossed her legs over the back of the couch, hanging upside down. “It seems like avoiding him is killing you more.” Her eyes traveled from the bottle of cleaning spray in my hand to the cloth in the other.

With my shoulders drooping, I stalked to the kitchen and set them on the counter. “Dais, it’s …”

“Hard. I know. He seems like he’s doing really well, though, if you don’t take into account his agitation over not being able to talk to you.”

Biting back a heated retort, I dropped on the couch next to her. Toby was waiting for me after my last class yesterday, but I ignored him. Didn’t say one word as I power walked off campus.

Surprisingly, he let me be, his eyes on my back as I crossed the street. Part of me was screaming for him to follow me, to chase me down and make all this better. That part was small, for the rest of me was too busy stacking bricks and mixing cement to seal the cracks around my heart so he couldn’t climb inside again.

“It’s over. It’s been months. I didn’t need much, a phone call once a month would’ve sufficed, some kind of update from him. But … never mind. I’m starting to think maybe it was for the best.” I picked at a loose piece of skin on my cuticle.

Daisy tugged my hands apart. “If it’s definitely over, then don’t you think he needs to know?”

Snorting, I said, “I think he’s getting the memo. Not to mention, he’d told me to move on.” Her silence had me huffing. “This isn’t fair. He left me for months. And you even told me he went home for the rest of summer after leaving Millstones.”

“I’m not saying he deserves another chance.” Daisy paused, her lip sliding between her teeth. “I’m just saying that perhaps you both need closure. To wrap things up properly instead of letting things end the way they have.”

“Had,” I said with emphasis. “It ended a long time ago. It just took me too long to realize it.”

The lights twirled, dancing in a golden blur as I spun around.

“Wait up,” he said. “Let’s get you a drink and go chill out somewhere.”

Looking up into the faces of Ryan—or was it Brian?—I giggled. “You’ve got two faces.”

The two faces frowned, lips puckering in a way that had me grabbing my stomach and doubling over. “God, don’t do that.”

Arms wrapped around my waist. “I think you’ve had enough to drink.”

Oh, I knew that. “Fact,” I slurred. “But I wanna dance, so you can go now.” Turning slightly, I batted his arms, realizing too late that it was his stomach. “Hot damn, Brian.”

“It’s Ryan,” he said with a slight groan.

“Whatever. You get the chisel out on these things?” I patted his stomach some more.

He chuckled, grabbing my hand when he stepped away, and I almost toppled over.

“Pippa?”

“Not here,” I called to the voice coming up behind me.

“Hey.” Callum grabbed my elbow, separating me from not Brian. “What’re you doing here?”

Good question. I couldn’t remember exactly how I’d come to the decision. I heard the music coming from the building next door and ran inside to change before leaving. They had booze, and I had shit I wanted to forget for a while.

“Just wanted to have some drinks,” I said with a lopsided smile.

Callum’s lips twitched as he stared down at me.

“She’s pretty wasted, man,” Not Brian said.

“I got her, thanks.”

I watched as Not Brian rubbed his forehead, then strode into the throng of people in the living room. Sniffing, I said to Callum, “It’s stuffy in here, don’t you think?”

“Yeah.” He looked over at someone, and I tilted a little, trying to see who it was.

My heart collided with my stomach, causing my legs to quake. “Guess he hasn’t changed much after all,” I murmured.

Callum heard me and grabbed my hand. “He heard you were here. Knew you probably wouldn’t want to see him, so …”

Even in my fabulously intoxicated state, I understood. “You came to the rescue for him?”

Callum grinned. “I live on the top floor, so it wasn’t too much of a mission.”

“Oh.” The word fell out on a breath, my eyes swinging back to Toby, who was standing in the kitchen doorway, arms crossed over his broad chest, his stupidly beautiful eyes on me. Shaking my head, I looked up at Callum. “I don’t need rescuing. If I want to dance and have a few drinks, I’ll do so, fuck you very much.”

Callum raised a brow. “Pippa, you’re wasted.”

My arm swung out, whacking someone in the back. I quickly apologized before saying, “So is almost everyone else here.”

He gave me a look that said he didn’t care, and that I could keep arguing, but he wasn’t going anywhere.

I went for the jugular. “Got nothing better to do? Renee decide she’s finally over you?”

Other than the slight twitch in his strong jaw, he didn’t take the bait. “Fine,” I huffed. “Party fucking pooper.”

I marched back through the crowd, dodging a groping hand by the door as I swung it open, practically stumbling into the hall. The wall rose to greet my face, but my hand was faster, meeting it with a thwack before I slid to the carpeted floor.

Laughter spilled out of me in uncontrollable waves. “This is pretty gross. Imagine how many people walk over this floor.”

“They have cleaners come in once a week to vacuum,” Callum informed me.

I tilted my head back, and he smiled down at me. “Where’s your friend?”

“Here,” Toby said.

“You”—I stabbed a finger at him—“can kindly get lost in a forest made of knives.”

His smile was sad, but it still had my gaze stuck on it. Like it was almost my birthday, and I hadn’t had cake in a year. “Lost. Funny you should say that.”

“Nothing funny about it.” I got on all fours, slowly standing as Toby stepped forward and grabbed my arms, lifting me. “Hey, no touching.”

Toby raised his hands, taking a step back before looking over my shoulder. “I’ll take it from here.”

I laughed, turning around to grin at Callum, and jabbing my thumb at Toby over my shoulder. “You hear this guy?”

Callum shook his head, lowering it to hide his smile. “Good night, Pippa. Make sure you hydrate.”

He walked to the elevator, whacking a button and holding the door open for us. Reluctantly, I walked in, knowing it was better to get this over with. “Night, traitor.”

Toby stepped in, but I kept my eyes on the glittering gray floor as the doors shut and we descended.

“You can’t keep avoiding me.”

I ignored him, suddenly feeling very sober and all kinds of cold as we walked out into the small foyer and continued outside to the street.

It couldn’t have been any later than eleven, but other than the music drifting down from the apartment upstairs, the street was quiet. So when I heard a quiet growl come from an alley between the buildings, I paused, brows crinkling. Then footsteps sounded, and I realized Toby, a silent sentry, had decided to follow me home.

Once we reached my building, I stopped and dug out my keys from my jean pocket. “Thanks for ruining my fun. Please don’t do it again.”

Walking inside, I turned when I didn’t hear the door shut behind me. “Toby, what the hell?” My hands fisted. “Just go home, already.”

“Since when do you drink like this?” Blue eyes surveyed me from head to toe, and I straightened my spine, trying not to wither like a scolded child.

“Since when do you say you love someone, only to disappear, again, and refuse to take their calls?”

Taking a step forward, eyes imploring, he whispered, “We need to talk, and I’ve been trying to talk to you. To explain.”

I groaned, trying to ignore the burn gathering behind my eyes. “So talk!”

“Not now, not like this.”

“What difference does it make?” I stepped closer to him, inhaling that spiced, buttery scent of his and wishing I hadn’t. Keeping my eyes on his gray band t-shirt covered chest, I dragged my finger ever so slowly from the dip in his neck to the sculpted shapes of his abdomen. My voice was faint, barely a whisper. “Because it doesn’t matter. You’re wrong if you think you can come back here and do this. If you think that all I’ve been doing is waiting for you.”

“Pippa, I never—”

My finger lifted to his lips. Those soft, beautiful lips. “So they’ve fixed you. It’s too bad they can’t fix everything else you broke, too.”

His lips parted, warm breath soaking my finger. Three heartbeats later, I watched as they closed and kissed the tip. I blinked at the gentle press, confusion sweeping over me as his hand rose to wrap around mine.

My blood turned to ice at the warmth of our skin meeting, and I moved back, staring at his expressionless face before racing up the stairs to my apartment.

He didn’t follow me, a fact I was grateful for as I skidded inside the bathroom, fell in front of the toilet, and hurled all the bad decisions I’d made into the ceramic bowl.

Daylight should provide clarity. Yet all I knew the following morning was that the constant ache in my chest felt stronger.

Some aches couldn’t be forgotten with a Band-Aid or a painkiller. They remained imbedded under your skin, lying in wait.

To stop the tears, I blamed it on the hangover and got my ass into the shower before sleeping the rest of Sunday away.

I made it to Wednesday before he found me again; although, I didn’t know whether found was really the right word.

Perhaps cornered. After spending the last two days watching me disappear whenever he appeared, he finally caught me.

Today, he was outside my apartment building, leaning against the pale brick wall. “We can’t keep ignoring this. It’s time to talk.”

I continued past him, trying to unlock the door when the keys were tugged from my hand. “Please,” he whispered.

As I stared into his pleading eyes, Daisy’s words from last week made their way to the forefront of my mind. My throat swelled, feeling thick. Was that why I’d been avoiding this? I had to wonder if deep down, I didn’t really want to give him closure or forgiveness. Wondered if I was still too hurt to let go of that anger.

Do it for you, I told myself. Because really, I couldn’t keep doing this either.

Sighing, I snatched my keys back from him. “You’ve got twenty. We’re not fixing this. I just want to end it the right way so we can both move on.”

Though his brows pinched together and his lips thinned, he didn’t argue. I continued down the street, and he fell in step beside me until we reached the little park at the corner, and I took a seat on a bench.

The playground was abandoned, save for a city worker plucking up bits of trash. A cloud covered the sun, taking the warmth away and making the autumn breeze crisp.

“Pip, I’m so sorry, and I lo—”

“Let’s just cut to the chase,” I said, kicking at some orange and brown leaves. “Why didn’t you want to speak to me?”

“Is that really what you want?” When I didn’t deem it necessary to respond, he cleared his throat. “In short, I guess you could say that I couldn’t see past anything besides myself for a long time there, and I thought, well, that you were better off.”

Better off. A hoarse laugh erupted from some deep well inside me. “Wow,” I croaked, wiping at my eyes. “You guys really need to get more original.”

“I know,” he said carefully. “As dumb as it sounds, it’s still true. Think about it.”

Nodding, I leaned back against the wood, still refusing to look at him. “No, I see it.”

“See what, exactly?”

“I made you worse, and you … you made me someone I never thought I’d be.”

A pained sound left him. “That isn’t right at all. You didn’t make me worse; you made me realize that I wanted better for myself. For you. And I’m sorry it took me a long time to get there, to realize that.”

With my clipped response dissolving on my tongue, I sighed. This was harder than I thought it’d be. “Tell me about it,” I surrendered.

“About?”

“All of it. Why’d you take those pills to start with.”

“I didn’t want to die,” he said softly. “I didn’t know what I wanted, and hell, maybe at the time, I didn’t care if I did die, I just … got so down, so desperate.”

We sat quietly, and I didn’t push, knowing he likely didn’t want to rehash all of this when he was clear of it now. “I remember, for a few minutes there, it was peaceful.” A smile lingered in his voice. “So blissfully quiet, and I thought to myself, if this is how the other half lives, then there’s really something wrong with me. Then … nothing. I woke up in the hospital with tubes in my nose and throat.” He paused, his voice turning to gravel. “I’ve had a lot of bad experiences, living with this, but I gotta say, that’s up there with the worst of them.”

As if on instinct, and against my brain’s will, my hand connected with his, fingers slowly linking together as I continued to stare down at the ground. “I was so scared,” I admitted. “Petrified like I’d never been before …” I stopped, blinking back tears.

“I know, and I’m so sorry I did that to you. To me. To anyone. But most of all, I hate that I did that to you.”

I considered his apology, weighing his words over my floating thoughts to inspect their merit, and found them lacking. Even if they were heartfelt and sincere. “You wouldn’t let me see you. After finding you like that”—my voice cracked, and I stopped, eyes fluttering closed briefly—“I needed to see that you were okay.”

His hand squeezed mine, and I relished the warmth of it, the strength. He’s here. “I should’ve let you. I can understand that now, but I couldn’t then. And I’m not just saying that so you’ll forgive me. I’m saying it because I get it now, in a way I was too self-absorbed to realize before.”

His hold loosened, his thumb whispering over my knuckles. I brushed my sleeve under my nose, wanting to ask more, but too scared to talk for fear of setting the tears that were ready to fall free.

I didn’t need to because he continued. “In the hospital, my dad suggested the psychiatric hospital. Initially, I balked at the idea. What male on the cusp of twenty wanted to be thrown into the loony bin? It seemed absurd until, suddenly, it didn’t.”

“You agreed to go?”

“I had to agree to something in order to leave the hospital, but yes, in the end, I agreed to go. I thought I’d just stay the thirty days, take my meds, and be good enough to go home. What I didn’t factor into my plans was that anything would actually work, that I’d stay long after my required time, and meet a doctor like Dr. Jenson.”

I listened as he told me about this doctor he deemed whacky and different. And although he said those things, there was unmistakable respect, gratitude, and a sense of awe in his voice as he spoke of him.

A tear fell, and I let it roll down my cheek, dropping to my lap and splashing on my skirt, staining the light green a dark emerald.

He sounded so different, his hand leaving mine had my gaze lifting to watch as he used his hands, every feature on his face, and his heart, to talk about the crazy things this Dr. Jenson said, some of the patients, and the different types of medication he’d tried.

“I was so sick. I vomited for what seemed like three days straight.”

“You seem happy about that,” I remarked.

Toby shrugged, smiling through his words. “I’d go through it again to get where I am now.”

That sobered me, his eyes meeting mine with an intensity—a brand-new type of honesty—that had me swallowing.

My shoulders tense, I looked away. “What stuck?”

“What meds, you mean?”

“Yeah,” I said. “Which one holds the magic?” Then maybe I could give it a try, I joked to myself.

“They.”

I faced him again, my brows scrunching. His lips curled into a half grin, and he started listing the drugs on his fingers. “I take a whole cocktail. Morning and night. A mood stabilizer, an antidepressant, and an antipsychotic.”

My mouth fell open, and he chuckled, the sight of his white teeth flashing and the sound sent my heart thrashing. “You’re okay with that?”

For someone who’d abhorred the idea of medicating his life away, who believed they hindered rather than helped, he seemed so at ease as he exclaimed, “More than okay.” My face fell at those words. “What’s that saying? Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it? Hitting rock bottom means there’s only one direction left to go?” He let out a loud exhale. “It’s really quite accurate.”

“What happens now? Are you still going to see Dr. Jenson?”

“Bit too far to travel, but once a month, I’m seeing someone local he recommended. I’ve only had one session so far, but she seems all right.”

At a loss for what else to say or ask, I simply said, “I’m happy for you. And I’m … proud. I really am.” It was true even if I still felt like I’d never find my own missing pieces.

He took my hand again, but I pulled it away and stood. “Pippa, I did so many things wrong. I can’t change them; I could only change myself. Yes, I didn’t think I deserved you, but I never stopped loving you. No matter how bad things got, that never changed.”

I couldn’t stand there and listen to any more. “I need to go. I meant what I said, though. I’m happy for you.”

He stood, walking over to me slowly, with his hands tucked into his pockets, as if hiding them would help in not spooking me. “Don’t go. Not yet.”

“I don’t think you understand.” I grabbed hold of every bit of strength I had. “I can forgive you for putting me through hell, for making me think the worst. What I can’t forgive you for is your silence.”

When I desperately needed sound, no matter how low or infrequent the volume.

His head fell, long lashes bobbing as he blinked at the grass. After one last look, I turned, making my way to the sidewalk, my heart dragging behind me the whole way home.

Shutting the vacuum off, I pushed loose strands of hair back from my face as a loud bang resounded on the door. I grabbed my drink bottle from the fridge, gulping down mouthfuls as I padded down the carpeted hall to the door. I mentally prepared an excuse, knowing I’d probably pissed off one of the neighbors with my late-night vacuuming again.

That excuse was standing there when I yanked open the door. “How’d you get up here?”

“Someone let me in as they were leaving.”

I shook my head. “What, no. I mean, why? Didn’t we just talk—”

My next words, my next breath, and my next heartbeat, they all crashed together in a tangled mess as he came for me, hands gripping my face as his foot kicked the door shut.

His mouth was an exhale away from touching mine, and something inside me snapped. The water bottle slipped from my hand as I rose onto my toes and sank my fingers into his thick hair, my lips melding to his. I felt ravenous, as if I’d been starved for months, prying his mouth open and forcing his tongue to reacquaint itself with mine. Like old lovers, they did, sliding and rubbing as our hands grappled with our clothing.

I didn’t stop. Didn’t think. I didn’t want to. I just needed. Needed and wanted and gave into it, whimpering as he picked me up and carried me down the hall. “There,” I panted, pulling my lips from his to point at the room he just passed.

Tossing me on the bed, he kicked his jeans off before crawling over me, tugging at my panties, and throwing them on the floor. “You’ve got something of mine, but that’s okay.” His voice was hoarse, hands rubbing up the inside of my thighs as I drowned in the heady waves of having him touch me again. “You can keep it.”

He kissed me roughly before flipping me over to my stomach. Lips and teeth scored a path down my back, goose bumps rose, and my nipples pebbled against the starchy feel of my sheets.

“Toby,” I breathed, feeling like I might die if he didn’t stop torturing me.

His mouth stopped at my lower back, and he spread my legs, opening me to him as his teeth sunk into the pillowy flesh of my ass cheek. From behind, his finger rubbed me while his tongue laved at the tender skin he’d bitten. “Shit, shit …”

“You’re ready, turn over.”

“No,” I said, trying desperately to keep some control when I knew I had absolutely none. “Like this, from behind.”

A slap rang throughout the room, the sting reverberating through me and causing my legs to spasm. “Roll over, beautiful.”

Fuck. I rolled over, and he nestled between my thighs, his hardness twitching against where I was throbbing, aching, and needing him. Blue eyes drank me in, roving over my breasts, my neck, my mussed-up bun, and finally, meeting my eyes. His hand reached between us a moment, and then he pushed.

“Do you feel that?” he asked, buried to the hilt, nostrils flaring.

“Yeah, feels good. Move,” I said, reaching down to grab his perfect ass and grinding against him.

Eyes closing, he groaned, his hips rocking back and forth.

His head dropped to my neck where he bit and sucked, the slick sound of our flesh meeting in hurried smacks sending my world hazy.

I was there, so there, when he stopped. “What?” I almost shrieked. “No, so close.”

“I’m …” He lifted his head, resting it on mine as he said, “I lost control. You make me lose control. It’s been so damn long, but I won’t fuck you. Not right now.”

Then he was moving again. Deep, haunting strokes that hit that magical spot. Combined with his hands digging into my hair, and the words, “I love you,” that rolled repetitively from his lips to mine, I disintegrated. All of it. Everything. It reached inside my chest, tearing down all my efforts to keep him out.

I came with a cry, and he followed, emptying inside me, tremors attacking his body that mirrored mine.

“Shit, no,” he said, his breath short as he pushed some strands of hair back from my face. “Don’t cry. Please don’t cry.” How he knew I was crying when I had yet to open my eyes made it so much worse.

“I hate you.” The three words scraped out of me on a choked yell. I punched at his chest, my eyes opening, the sight of him blurred by a torrent of tears. “I hate you so fucking much, it’s hard to breathe.”

Rising off me, he vacated my body, scooping me into his arms when I tried to make a break for it. He didn’t say anything, just held me, thumbs swiping at my face, and his hands smoothing up and down my back.

“You’re the worst thing that ever happened to me.” I felt him flinch with every bit of hate and hurt that left my mouth, but he remained steadfast. A pillar of strength that I tried to blow to pieces, to make him feel some of what he’d made me feel this past year.

“I hate you because I still love you, and that makes me hate myself.”

Eventually, my sobs waned, and when my eyes reopened, dawn was sending light through the still open curtains of my bedroom. My eyes felt crusty, puffy, and my head heavy as I tried to lift it from … Toby’s chest.

Giving in, I discreetly reached between the skin of my cheek and his pec, wiping away some drool, or maybe it was snot—who knew after the downpour I had let rip just hours before.

Black ink caught my peripheral, my fingers freezing on his chest as I carefully lifted my head high enough to see what it was. The scripted words were surrounded by a few leaves, mint leaves, I realized as I peered closer.

I will not fall victim to the undertow, for I am unsinkable.

Letting my head drop, I stared at the inked words on his chest, wondering when he got them. My brain said to get up, move away, and get my wits about me again.

But my heart, it was too exhausted to move.

I laid awake, watching the sun’s hues change from dusky pinks and oranges to golden yellows as it rose into the sky. Pippa didn’t move; in fact, a few times, I checked to see if she was even breathing, she slept so soundly.

I needed to get home. Judging by the lightness of the sky, I knew it had to be close to nine, and I was supposed to take my medication two hours ago. Yet I couldn’t bear to move her. To force myself away from the softness of her skin, and the tickle of her silky hair on my shoulder and arm.

Her words echoed in my head like a song you wished you could forget. Yet her actions were a contradiction to every bit of hate she threw at me. The way she clung to me, the wetness of her tears on my skin, and the scratching of her nails over my neck—they all sang a different tune to the one she was trying so hard to sing.

I loved her. I loved her like I’d never loved anything else before, and with that kind of love comes a price. I was under her skin the same way she lived in mine. I beat in her heart the same way she controlled the tempo of mine. But I understood—boy, did I fucking understand—that it was never that simple.

What you loved and what you needed were two very different beasts.

She wasn’t what I needed before; she was what I wanted. Obsessively and without a moment’s pause.

And now that I both wanted and needed her, it was clear she did not reciprocate.

The realization didn’t have me walking away, though, and it wouldn’t.

“Toby?” Her head rose from my chest, her arm slithering away as she sat up. “Christ, what time is it?”

“I’m guessing after nine,” I said, watching as she sat on the side of her bed, the curve of her naked back causing my morning wood to hum.

“Fuck, we’ve missed class.”

Getting up, I stood naked, stretching my hands over my head. “I’ve gotta go—”

The look she shot me—hurt veiled beneath hostility—made my mouth shut. “Yeah, do what you do best.”

She stood, opening and slamming drawers while I tugged my briefs and jeans on, knowing I deserved the venom snaking into my chest.

I grabbed her around the waist before she disappeared into the bathroom. “Wait.”

“No thanks.” She removed herself from my hold and stepped around me.

“I have to go because I was supposed to take my medication two hours ago.” She stopped in the doorway to the bathroom. “I’ll come back later if you’ll have me.”

“Toby, I’m not going to say last night was a mistake,” she said with her back still facing me. She laid her clothes down on the vanity, then removed the elastic that was doing nothing to contain her hair after last night. “I think it needed to happen. But you already know I can’t do this with you anymore. I’m sorry.”

She looked at me then, and my eyes didn’t even drop to her C-cup breasts or the luscious curves of her hips. No, the remorse and honesty in her green eyes socked me square in the gut, rendering me speechless. The tone of her voice, sincere and defeated. “You’re serious?”

A sad smile touched her mouth, and her thumb moved up to her bottom lip, brushing over it. “You know I am. Please, go home.”

The door was shut in my face, the shower turning on a minute later as I just stood there, my shirt in my hand and my jeans undone, wondering if she’d open the door and see the tears I felt pooling in my eyes. I blinked and two raced down my cheeks, so I lifted my t-shirt, swiping them away before shrugging it on.

“And Toby?” Her voice sounded through the door. I didn’t respond, knowing she knew I was still there. “Keep being more than okay. Kay?”

I laughed. Laughed despite feeling like I wanted to curl into a ball and weep. I needed out of there, and quickly scanned the room for my shoes before realizing they were out in the hall. That was when my eyes fell on her nightstand.

A familiar paperback sat there, and the tears vanished. “Yeah,” I finally said. “Okay.”

“What is wrong with you?” Quinn asked, tossing his pen down on the dining table with a huff. “We’re all snowed under with this shit, and you’re fucking smiling?”

He eyed me up and down where I was sitting on the kitchen counter, flipping through my book at all the pages Pippa had dog-eared. I should’ve been mad about that, but I was just glad she’d read it. Or stolen it. Whatever.

The exact same chapters I’d read to her all those months ago.

“Can’t a dude smile without getting the third degree?” I closed the book, checking the time on my phone.

“I guess, sure. Don’t you need to study harder than the rest of us, though?”

“What do you think I’ve been doing all these weeks?” I jumped down from the counter. “I’ve got this.”

Quinn scoffed, then rubbed his hands down his face with a groan. “Who needs to know algebra in real life anyway? Like, come on.”

“Plenty of people.” I slipped my phone into my pocket, racing upstairs to tuck my book away in my room and change.

When I returned, I grabbed a yogurt from the fridge, yanking the lid off and tossing it before tipping the whole thing into my mouth.

“Don’t need a spoon?”

“In a hurry,” I said, wiping my lips and chucking the empty container into the trash. Opening the fridge back up, I grabbed a bottle of water, then retrieved my keys from the counter.

“Daisy said you and Pippa still aren’t together.”

“We’re not,” I said, ignoring the way that made my muscles tighten.

Quinn drummed his fingers on the table. “You’ve given up?”

“I’m not giving up, but she doesn’t need me right now.”

His face screwed up. “What do you mean? You’re giving her space?”

“I’m the worst thing for her right now. Right now, she just needs herself and time.” I flipped him off and strode to the door.

“Where you going?” Quinn hollered. “Take me with you. I’m fucking dying here!”

“To see a man about a ball, and suck it up, buttercup.”

The sun blasted through the windshield, but rain clouds were moving in fast. I hoped I’d get enough time to play a little before it arrived.

Ten minutes later, I eased off the accelerator, approaching the gravel lot of the local football club. The coach of the senior team was waiting for me outside the club office, a ball cap covering his head, and a smile at the ready when I walked over to greet him.

“Roger Hill,” he said, his grip firm as he shook my hand. “You must be Toby.”

“I am. Thanks for meeting with me.”

Taking his hand back, he gave me a brief inspection. “You look familiar.”

Swallowing my pride and my regret, I informed him. “Played wide receiver for the Tomahawks last year and the year before. That was, um, before I got kicked off the team.”

“I know.”

I frowned. “You know?”

He tilted a shoulder. “Was just seeing if you’d tell me yourself.”

I sucked my lips into my mouth for a moment, choosing how to play this. I chose honesty. “Look, I suffer with some mental health stuff. I’ve spent a long time working on it since leaving the team. I don’t want to cause trouble, and I don’t even want to go pro.”

Roger tilted his head, a slow smile stretching his wrinkled face. “Then what do you want?”

“I just want to play the game I love. To have fun again.”

It’d been two weeks since I’d kicked Toby out of my apartment.

And since he’d reclaimed his book.

I’d seen him around campus, usually from a distance, but gone were the days when he’d follow me or try to talk to me.

If he saw me now, I was given a sad smile or a tentative wave.

My stomach bubbled with regret as what-ifs plagued my mind every night before I fell asleep. But oddly enough, since spewing my hate at him, I’d felt a little lighter since.

I took the customer’s change, dropping it into the till before handing him back a dollar. “Have a spectacular day,” I said with a bright smile.

The guy looked puzzled, then nodded before walking out the door.

I was washing my hands when Tim emerged. “Maybe you don’t need to try to look so happy. Maybe just be you.”

After wiping my hands on a towel, I tossed it into the trash, punching the air when it sunk straight in. Tim was smirking when I looked at him. “I’m actually feeling … okay.” I bobbled my head from side to side, weighing my words for some truth. I found some, a kernel, but it was enough for me.

“This is good news.”

“It is,” I agreed, watching Tim stroke his moustache. “But …?”

“But what?” he asked.

Biting my lip, I tried not to laugh. “But you want to say something else.”

“Oh, yes. Why do you still make the customers look funny?”

“Part of my charm, I guess.”

The door opened, and Tim chuckled, walking over to the sink to wash some jars and scoops.

“Well, hello.” I placed a hand on my hip, leaning my other into the counter.

“Hello, indeed,” Renee said, eyeing the rows of ice cream with her finger tapping her chin.

“Would you like something, or are you just window shopping?”

Tim made a coughing sound, and I laughed. “Relax, I know her.”

Grabbing a napkin, he patted his face with it, shaking his head as he retreated to the back of the store again.

Renee smirked, her lips glossed and shiny. “Speaking of shopping. My family’s got this charity thing coming up. I need someone to suffer through the tedious task of trying on gowns with me.”

“You don’t seem the type to find a task like that too tedious.”

She inspected her nails. “True. But misery loves company.”

“I’m not miserable.”

“Sure. Hey, can you make me a vanilla shake?”

“You paying? We don’t give friend discounts here.”

The look she gave me said, “Really?”

I made her shake, taking her ten-dollar bill and keeping the remaining six dollars as a tip. She didn’t care. “Oh, my God. Best thing I’ve tasted all fucking month.”

Putting the milk away in the fridge beneath the counter, I informed her, “I don’t really like shopping.”

“I know.”

I leaned over the counter, tilting my head as she sucked back some of her shake. “You do, do you? Pray tell, how?”

Using her shake, she gestured at me. “Just know how to pick ’em.”

“Uh-huh.” I smirked. “So why ask me?”

“Because I know you’ll give me an honest opinion.”

Blowing out a loud breath, I pondered it. It wasn’t like I had anything better to do after I got done here. “I finish at twelve. Meet me out front.”

With a wink, she strutted outside, hips swaying and posture perfect. I glanced down at my blue apron, spying some chocolate powder on my chest. Shrugging, I brushed it off before an older man and who looked to be his daughter strolled inside.

When I left an hour later, Renee was sitting on a bench a little way down the sidewalk, fingers tapping on her phone.

“Have you been waiting the whole time?”

She glanced up, green eyes meeting my own. “No.” Tucking her phone into her designer purse, she stood. “Went back to my dorm to finish a paper.”

We made our way to her black Range Rover parked by the curb. “Okay, I can’t help it.” I clicked my seat belt on, shoving my bag between my feet. “Why do you live in a dorm when you drive this?”

She slammed her door, tossing her purse into the back seat. “Long story.”

The car started with a luxurious, quiet purr. “We’ve got time.”

She pulled out, making a U-turn and heading back toward my apartment building. “I came here with Callum.”

Leaning forward, I dug around in my purse for my mints, flipping the lid open and offering her one. She accepted, and I sucked as she spoke around hers. “We got together in high school.”

“Sweethearts,” I said, a sly smile tugging at my lips at the picture-perfect image of the two of them.

Her snort gave me pause. “Something like that. Anyway, he leased an apartment, and I moved in with him.”

“Whoa, right after high school?”

Her smile was sad, but she didn’t deny it. “When it all went to hell, I got a dorm room.”

I didn’t know what to ask first. Whether I should ask about what she did with Mike, Callum’s best or ex-best friend. Did guys even have ex-best friends? I shook my head because it was irrelevant. I went with my second thought. “Why didn’t you lease another apartment? Not judging or anything, but …” I waved a hand around the flashy interior of her car.

She laughed, a little raspy. I guessed the dudes found that appealing. Hell, I found it appealing. “Because of our parents.”

She stopped at a set of lights outside the small mall.

“What do you mean?” I turned in my seat to face her, just as a dog waltzed its merry way out onto the road.

Renee leaned forward over the steering wheel. “Shit, it’s that dog again.”

The dog was sniffing a parked car’s tire, then promptly lifted its leg and marked his territory all over it.

“It’s been wandering around here for a while now. Students have complained and everything.”

The light turned green, and she eased off the brake. “Wait, pull over.”

“Are you kidding? That thing is huge! No one goes near him. He’s always growling.”

I was already out of the car, slamming the door and walking over to where the dog was trotting up the sidewalk, heading straight for me.

It stopped, then tried to skirt around me. It looked like a Rottweiler cross, but I wasn’t sure due to how thin it was. “Hey, buddy,” I said, stepping in front of it.

The low growl it gave me had my eyes widening. He was thin but still big, and I was clearly interrupting his mission.

Glancing over my shoulder, I saw a guy walking toward me, eating a kebab. “Hi, sorry, but I need that.”

I snatched it from him as he gaped at me. “Hey!”

I whistled at the dog who was about to walk back out onto the road to evade me, then it paused, sniffing the air as I approached with my stolen goods.

Renee was getting out of the car, the hazards flashing while it was parked in an emergency drop-off spot. “Are you crazy?” she hissed. “He’ll probably bite your hand off.”

“I don’t think so. Open the trunk.”

“What?” Then she realized what I was doing. “Oh no, you don’t. He’s not getting in my car.”

Picking at the kebab, I tossed the dog some beef, walking backward toward her car. The dog practically inhaled it before walking after me, licking its mouth. “Shit, now. Open it and we’ll drop him off at the pound.”

“You’re cleaning any mess it makes.”

Once I neared the trunk, I second-guessed myself. “Do you think it’ll fit in there?”

“Going to have to. It’s not getting in the back seat with those claws.”

I tossed the kebab into the back, whistling and patting the carpeted interior. He didn’t need to be told twice and leaped in. I cringed as I heard his back claws scrape over the bumper.

Renee cursed, then shut the door, forcing the dog to hunker down.

He must’ve eaten the kebab in a flash because he spent the drive to the pound moaning and whining. “Think he gets car sick?” I asked, trying to lighten the mood and erase the pinched expression on Renee’s face.

“Don’t even. Let’s just get him dropped off. You owe me two hours at the mall now.”

“Deal.”

We pulled in, got out, and promptly looked at one another with identical expressions of cluelessness. “I guess we’d better go see if someone can help us get him into one of those cages or something,” I said, pointing at the row of them that lined the lot outside the facility.

“Don’t take too long. He might piss in there!” Renee hollered as I made haste to the front gates.

An older woman with kind eyes and graying hair came out to greet me, and when I told her the situation, she held up a finger and went back inside, returning with a leash.

“Oh, this is Bruce,” she said, quickly tucking the collared leash around his neck. “I should really get a muzzle for him.”

“You know him?” I asked as Bruce jumped down to the packed dirt.

“Sure do. This will be his second stay here.” She looked down at him as he growled, his hackles rising when he looked around at his surroundings. “Sadly, it’ll probably be his last.”

“What does that mean?”

Renee bumped my elbow with hers. “He probably won’t get rehomed.”

“What, why?”

The woman looked up, her eyes bouncing back and forth between us. “You mean besides his charming personality? His first family surrendered him. He tried to eat their new kitten’s leg. Shattered some bones with one swift bite, apparently. And clearly, his second one didn’t agree with him either.”

The Rottweiler looked resigned, slumping to the ground. Or perhaps he was staging a showdown, declaring his intentions. He wasn’t going back in there.

“Come on.” She tugged gently on his lead, but he wouldn’t budge.

“Can I pet him?” I asked. I glanced at her name tag. “Estelle, I’m Pippa. We found him playing chicken downtown and lured him to the car with a kebab.”

Estelle smiled down at Bruce. “Not surprised. He’s smart, but he thinks the world will stop for him, this one.” She sighed, looking back at me with a nod. “Let him sniff you first. I’d rather wait till he had the muzzle on, but he’s not known to attack people.”

Renee looked terrified as I slowly kneeled, extending my hand to Bruce’s nose. He met me halfway, sniffing it, and I tried not to flinch when he started licking me. “Must be the kebab smell.”

Estelle snickered.

Renee kneeled next to me but didn’t touch him. “I guess he’s kinda cute, if you dig that whole ‘I can kill baby kittens in two seconds’ thing.”

“Don’t listen to her,” I told him, lifting my hand to rub his head. His eyes shut, tail starting to flop from side to side. “You’re not cute. You’re beautiful.”

We followed Estelle into the facility, dogs barking and some faint mewling coming from a small building near the front office.

“Well, thanks for dropping him off.”

“No worries,” I said, still watching Bruce as she tied his leash to a long bench seat in the waiting area before rounding the counter. “Will you tell me if he gets rehomed?”

I didn’t know why I felt like I needed to know; I just did.

“Sure. Here, put your number on this pad.” She scooted it over to me, and I grabbed a pen to jot it down. As I handed it back, I saw a neatly stacked, small pile of paper when I peeked over the counter. Volunteer applications.

I pointed at them. “Actually, can I grab one of those?”

Renee and I never did go shopping, for which I was thankful. But I did have coffee with her afterward, trying to dig more details out of her about Callum. She didn’t give much away and seemed stuck in her own thoughts, so I gathered that the small window of opportunity to pry had then closed.

Being allergic to cats made volunteering at the shelter interesting, but I took some antihistamines, and Estelle kindly gave me tasks away from the cattery most of the time. Bruce hadn’t been adopted yet, which was concerning, but I knew I couldn’t take him. Not when I lived in an apartment. Besides that, I just didn’t have the time.

I walked him when I was there and put up with him slobbering all over me. He was a surly bastard and didn’t like most of the handlers, but once he really got to know you, he turned into a giant, needy teddy bear who often tried to suffocate and smother you. If I sat on the ground, he sat on me, and he didn’t like being told to move.

The days went by, and between volunteering at the shelter once a week, work, and trying not to flunk midterms, I was ready to hibernate through Thanksgiving.

There was no possible way I could imagine reading one more textbook, write one more word, or work out one more equation without the use of a calculator.

Autumn spread its gusty wings, drowning campus in a layer of leaves and twigs. The weather grew cooler, and the nights lonelier, especially when I only had my own thoughts for company.

At first, I appreciated having my own space. Someplace to dwell and bask in my own heartache, but as the days sailed by, I realized I missed sharing a dorm room with Daisy.

Visits once or twice a week and the odd run-in on campus wasn’t cutting it. But I couldn’t bring myself to go to the townhouse. I wasn’t ready yet, so I’d just have to get over it.

Getting over it was rather difficult to accomplish when you felt as though you were missing something. I found myself searching my bag, purse, the apartment, always thinking I’d misplaced or forgotten something important.

Deep down, I knew what it was. But that was the dilemma with misplacing your heart. Once it was gone, you could try to go on without it, but eventually, you found it hard to breathe.

Determined, I kept breathing, but despite feeling good about where I was heading, and the classes I’d planned to sign up for next semester, my chest still constricted at the mere thought of him.

And if the thought of him made it constrict, the sight of him damn near made my lungs collapse.

Ducking my head as I moved to wait for my coffee, I thought I could hide among the crowd waiting around me. I thought wrong.

“Hi,” Toby said, his arm brushing mine as we stood by the window in the Bean Stream.

Time to see if we could be civil. Just two ordinary people saying an ordinary hello.

“How are you?” Okay, so I skipped the hello. But hellos are awkward as fuck, so let’s skip straight to the punchline.

The smell of percolating coffee covered his scent, but I still caught a whiff. “Good. I actually came by your place last Saturday, but you didn’t answer the buzzer.”

My heart leaped. Stupid thing. “Oh, um, yeah. I was at the shelter.” Realizing he didn’t know, I rushed to add, “I volunteer at the animal shelter on Saturday mornings.”

“For real?”

“For real.”

Looking up at him was a big mistake. The morning sun swept in through the window, lighting up his chiseled cheekbones and the strong line of his jaw. His eyes were smiling down at me, bright and effervescent. “That’s pretty awesome, Pip-squeak. Have you found your calling then?”

That made me laugh, and I tucked some hair behind my ear. “Not exactly. But I enjoy it.”

“What made you decide to do that?” he asked, stepping back as someone went forward to collect their coffee.

“His name is Bruce, and he’s a handsome, stubborn guy.” Toby’s face fell, his brows pulling in as his jaw clenched. I laughed again. “He’s a Rottweiler cross.”

“Oh,” he said with a sharp exhale. “Christ.” Running a hand through his hair, his face relaxed again.

I glanced down at my boots. “Been busy?” I asked, curious but also tempted to see if there was an explanation for the way he seemed to give up after the night we spent together last month. It was what I wanted, but it also wasn’t. I think I’d come to learn that you could love someone and miss them without entirely trusting them.

“Crazy busy. I’ve had so much work to do. I’m taking some courses online to catch up.”

“That’s good.” I nodded, relieved there was some reason, albeit not a great one.

He’s getting his shit together. Don’t be a bitch.

I shook my inner thoughts away, looking at him when he said, “I’m playing again.”

“What?” I frowned, thinking I would’ve surely heard if he’d gotten back on the team.

“Just for an amateur team, mixed bunch of guys, but it’s been great and … fun.”

He seemed to mean it, that smile still lingering in his eyes.

“That’s really good, Toby.” My breathing shallowed as he kept staring, but I couldn’t look away.

My name was called, and I stepped forward as if I’d just woken up and shot up from bed, slightly wobbly and blinking rapidly, trying to place my surroundings.

“I’ll see you,” I said, when Toby came forward to collect his coffee, without looking at him.

“Yeah,” he said softly. “You will.”

Out on the street, I straightened my bag as the wind whipped some of my hair into my face. I readjusted my hold on my cup, pushing it back as I made my way down the street. Looking over my shoulder, I saw Toby behind me, standing on the sidewalk as he talked to Paul.

He glanced over, and I looked away, the coffee doing nothing to melt the ice that invaded with every step I took.

“I’m outside. Coming down? Or do I need to carry like a million bags for you?”

Sandwiching the phone between my ear and shoulder, I zipped up my duffel and double checked to make sure all the switches were off. “Very funny. I’ll be down in a few.”

Depositing the phone into my bag, I surveyed the room. “Don’t get too dusty while I’m gone, ya hear?”

Yes, I was talking to my apartment, but it was necessary. I loathed dusting, and I swore I did it at least twice a week.

Drew was waiting in the car, and I opened the small trunk of my old Corolla, dumping my stuff inside.

“Why’d you come anyway?” I asked, dropping into the seat.

Putting his phone away, he put the car into gear and pulled out. “Needed away.”

Dad was home for Thanksgiving, and I had expected him to pick me up. “He’s only been there a few days.”

Drew snorted. “No, he arrived a week ago. A fucking week ago. Who does that when they say they’re just visiting?” He said just visiting like he was an annoyed six-year-old.

“What’s the problem?” I asked. “If they’re getting along, let them. Nothing bad to be gained there.”

Drew groaned. “You don’t get it.”

“Get what?”

He was silent until we hit the highway, and I’d had enough. “Oh, Jiminy fuckball Cricket, I don’t get what?”

“The hell is a fuckball?”

“You are. Spit it out.” I rummaged in my purse for my mints, keeping the tin in my lap. This would be the longest car ride of my life.

“Gimme one.”

“Sure, right after you tell me what I’m not getting. Are you worried they’ll get back together?”

The idea seemed so ludicrous, it almost made sense. Which in turn made no sense and had me almost swallowing a breath mint whole.

“Ding, ding. We have a winner,” Drew mocked.

“They won’t,” I wheezed. “Too much has happened.”

He made a noise of agreement. “Yep, getting with your daughter’s boyfriend’s mom is pretty high up there on the can’t get past that scale.” He looked over at me briefly. “Oh yeah, heard them arguing about it the other night.”

“Whatever.” Interesting, though. “He didn’t know. None of them knew. Felicity never even told Dad she had a son.”

“Crazy attracts crazy,” he muttered under his breath, but I caught it.

“You know what, Drew? Cut the shit. They won’t get back together, so stop using it as an excuse to be an ass.”

“An ass? This ass just drove all the way to Gray Springs to pick you up.”

I had to give him that. “Because you’d rather do that than be around Dad.”

His silence the rest of the drive home spoke volumes.

Leaning over, I flicked the radio on, listening to it crackle through the old speakers.

We were driving into town when Drew finally said, “Dad’s not the only crazy one. Mom’s been more hyper than usual.”

“How so?”

He pulled down the backstreets leading to our house. “You’ll see.”

Dad’s truck was parked outside the garage, the lawn looked recently mowed, and the scent of damp grass hit my nose. The sprinkler was on, shooting small jets of water in a rotating arc that I dodged with a slew of curses as I lugged my bags up onto the porch.

Drew’s phone beeped, and he paused to fish it out of his jeans. “I’ll open the door then,” I grumbled, ditching my duffel and heading inside with just my backpack. I’d return for it later if Drew didn’t grab it.

I walked down the hall, stopping dead in my tracks when I heard a sound coming from the kitchen. Creeping forward, I peered around the corner, and the sight that singed into my retinas burned so viciously that a startled, shocked, and horrified yelp left my mouth.

“What the fuck?” Drew said behind me.

My backpack fell from my hands as they shot to my eyes, my dad scrambling to dismount my mother and do up his jeans. “Shit. Shit, shit, shit.”

“My motherfucking eyes!” I screamed, turning and almost tripping over my damn bag.

“Pippa, shush,” Mom hissed. “How about knocking next time?”

“We live here!” That was Drew, who then scrambled up the stairs, cursing and shaking his head.

“For the love of all things fucked up, that was seriously fucked up,” I muttered, walking upstairs in a daze. “Where’s the bleach?”

“You’re not funny!” my mom yelled from downstairs.

Why was it that I’d never had the misfortune of seeing my parents doing it, I’d never even heard them doing it, and now that I was nineteen, and they were supposed to be separated, I was cursed with burned eyeballs for life?

A half an hour later, I peeked out my bedroom door, listening for any weird noises before darting downstairs. Ugh, I couldn’t even look at the kitchen counter.

“That needs to be burned. Stat. Or I’m making dinner on the grill,” I said to no one, inspecting the contents of the fridge. It was jammed full, stuffed with food for Thanksgiving dinner.

“Since when do you cook?” my dad asked, making me jump as I scooped some jelly into my mouth. Slowly, I put the lid back on, taking my time placing it back on the shelf. “Are you too scared to look at me?”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

He laughed, which made me want to launch the jar of jelly at his head. I closed the fridge instead. “You do know how you and Drew were made, right? Do we need to have a conversation about the bees and the birds?”

“It’s the birds and the bees, Dad.” I finally leveled him with what I hoped was a ten-ton glare.

He didn’t even flinch. “Right. Should we maybe discuss what you saw then?”

“No.”

“Pippa, we need to talk about this eventually,” he said.

“Never sounds good.” Looking for an out, I asked brightly, “Say, where’s Drew?”

I then walked out of the kitchen, leaping into a run when he called my name as I rounded the corner.

With nothing else to do, and seeing my old car was still in the drive, I decided to actually search for Drew.

I found him in the shed out back, throwing darts at a dartboard that was older than us.

“What’s happening, bro?”

He raised a brow that said to shut up, lifting a beer to his mouth and taking a lengthy pull.

“Tsk, tsk.” I shook my finger at him, then glanced behind me before shutting the door. “Got another one of those bad boys?” I asked as I took a seat on an old, deflated truck tire.

Plucking another out from beside the couch he was sitting on, he passed it over.

“How’d you get beer anyway?” I popped the lid, nose crinkling at the yeasty scent. I needed something after … whatever the hell all of that was. “Dad doesn’t drink anymore.”

“He had an old friend over last night who left a couple behind.” He shrugged, taking another sip. “If he can’t drink them, I’m not about to let them go to waste.”

He could drink them, but he chose not to because it’d usually affect his mood for days afterward.

The reminder made me think of Toby. I tipped my head back, draining as much as I could without breathing so I wouldn’t have to taste it. “So you’re doing him a favor then.” I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand.

“I think so,” he said smugly. “Not getting back together, my ass.”

“Please, no talk of private parts.”

“Agreed.”

We hung out in the shed, watching an old western movie until the sun started to set.

Only then did someone think to check on our whereabouts. We were teenagers, granted, but we’d just been through a pretty traumatic experience, if you asked me.

“What the hell are you two …” Mom’s eyes bugged out as she spied the three empty beer bottles. “Drinking? Really?”

Helpless, I bit my lips and lifted my hands into a shrug.

“Getting back together with Dad? Really?” Drew said as he stepped by her and out into the backyard.

Mom looked at me for help, but I just laughed. “Nope, nope, and nope.”

Pippa’s dad greeted me with a fond smile and a slightly too firm handshake. “How you doing?”

“Good, thanks.” Taking my hand back, I tried to subtly crack my knuckles behind my back as Terry, Pippa’s mom, engulfed me in an unexpected and air-constricting hug.

Was that a warning too? Or was she just being nice?

She did invite me here, after all.

“It’s a shame your dad isn’t joining us,” Terry said, wiping her hands on the skirt of her dress.

“He’s flying out to see my grandparents today.”

I didn’t want to go. I wasn’t all that close with my grandparents, and I knew my grandfather would’ve been disappointed after hearing about me getting kicked off the team.

I wasn’t ready to face some things yet. One giant hurdle at a time, thanks.

Pippa’s mom had phoned my dad’s office last week, inviting us to Thanksgiving. My dad declined, stating he had plans, but passed on my number for her to speak with me.

To say I was shocked would be the understatement of the century. I’d met her dad, yes, but not Terry. Looking at her now, I knew where Pippa got her curves from, her smile, and that mischievous look that sometimes filled her green eyes.

It was surreal, especially considering I thought they might not like me after all that’d happened, but I wasn’t about to turn down this opportunity.

“I have no idea where Pip and her brother have scampered off to, but the car is here, so give me a minute and I’ll go find her.” She walked off, calling out to Drew and Pippa as she went.

“Let’s grab a drink,” Mitch said, heading down the hall as I kicked off my boots.

“Uh, actually.” I scratched my head when I reached the kitchen. “I don’t really drink.”

Mitch grinned at me over the door of the fridge. “Me neither, gives me hell the following week.” He held up two cans of soda, and I pointed at the Dr. Pepper. “Thanks. Yeah, I never realized how badly it can affect you.”

“Yup,” he said, kicking the fridge closed and popping the tab on his can. “It’s like a slow-moving shadow. You think you’re good for a day or two, but eventually, it catches you.”

The can stopped halfway to my mouth as I nodded, kind of stupefied by the validity of his statement.

“So you and Pippa?”

I placed the can down on the counter. “I don’t know. I’m kind of waiting her out.”

He made a noise of agreement. “Like her mother that way. Stubborn as hell.” He took a sip of his drink, watching me for a moment. “I’m going to be honest here by saying it pains me that she chose you.”

Frowning, I stared at his somber features with nothing to say to that. Honestly, I had to agree to some extent.

“Only because I know how tough it’s going to be at times.” He spoke as if he knew we weren’t finished, as if he knew we were a sure thing. I wished I had that confidence. The ability to project and see us together, happy again. All I had was hope. “I know.” Mitch laughed a little. “Pot calling the kettle black here.”

“I get it,” I said, leaning against the wall behind me. I knew Pippa deserved better—someone more stable, for lack of a better word. “I know what I need to do now. I knew before, I just … got comfortable. Complacent, and stubborn, and then when things went downhill—”

“They went downhill very fucking fast,” Mitch finished for me, then he nodded. “Well, here’s to you for taking action and showing yourself who’s boss. Something I wish I had done when I was your age.”

“But you did do it, eventually.”

He looked over his shoulder at the sound of Terry’s approaching voice. “Eventually is sometimes too late.”

“Toby?” Pippa pulled up short in the doorway, the shocked look on her face slowly unfolding into a wobbly, hesitant smile. Too slow and hesitant for my liking, but I’d take what I could get.

“Pip-squeak.” The words were almost a whisper as I greedily drank in the sight of her.

I’d seen her last week, had seen her floating to and from class on campus more than I think she realized. As much as I wanted to, I wasn’t stalking her. No, I think I was just attuned to her. Wherever she was, if she was nearby, I felt it, and I saw her.

If she saw me, she never let on. I took that with a grain of salt, hoping, wishing, and waiting, knowing that she needed time. And me continuing to get all up in her space every chance I could, begging and pleading—I knew that wasn’t what she needed.

It sucked. It killed me to carry on like I wasn’t missing something. Like a hand hadn’t reached into my chest and scored its sharp nails down my heart.

So she could be shocked, mad, and maybe distrustful of my visit here, but I’d missed her too much to take offense to anything she might say or do.

I just needed to be with her, and suddenly felt like I might tackle hug Terry to the floor for allowing that to happen.

Pippa scowled as she walked over to me, then froze as though she was going to touch me but then thought better of it. “How? What are you doing here?”

Smirking down at her, I watched her slowly turn to her mom when Terry said, “I invited him. The poor boy was going to spend Thanksgiving alone.”

“Poor boy?” Pippa asked incredulously. “He’s twenty!”

“Well, I …” I shut my mouth because I had nothing.

“Cool, more crazy for Thanksgiving. Can I invite Cindy and her parents too?”

“Drew,” Terry scolded. “I don’t have enough wine to get through the kind of disaster that would be.”

“Not fair,” Drew said, waving a finger in Terry’s direction. Mitch looked like he wanted to say something but shook his head and left the kitchen.

“Toby,” I said, offering him my hand. Drew had a large build, like his dad. Hockey, I thought I remembered Pippa saying.

“Drew. Welcome to the nuthouse, dude. You’ll fit right in.” With those departing words, he stalked out of the kitchen.

“Pippa, why don’t you stop balking and show Toby to the guest room.” Terry started rummaging through the fridge. “If you’re not going to help prepare the feast, get.”

“What? He’s staying the night?”

Terry hauled a bunch of ingredients to the counter. “You can’t expect him to drive home after he’s come all this way.”

Pippa blinked at the ground, then cleared her throat. “Fine. Let’s get out of here before she makes me cook something I’ll undoubtedly mess up.”

I left my soda behind and went outside to grab my bag. “You’re okay with this?”

Pippa, leaning against the front door as I locked the car, tilted a shoulder. “Not really but yes. Ugh, I don’t even know.”

“Fair enough.”

I followed her upstairs, stopping near the top to take in the sight of her with pigtails, two missing front teeth, and rosy, chubby cheeks. “Jesus.” I laughed.

“Shush, I was a chubby kid. Right up until I hit puberty.”

I reached out, as if to touch the photo, theories about what our kids might look like dancing on my tongue. I swallowed them, picked up my bag, and continued up the stairs.

Their home was large, four or five bedrooms, with an extra living area upstairs. It was a little outdated but was impeccably clean, and everything had a place. I liked it and could easily see where Pippa and her cleaning ways had stemmed from.

“What are you smiling about?” she asked, opening the door to what I guessed was the guest room and walking inside.

“Many, many things.” I tucked my duffel in the corner next to a desk with an old printer sitting atop it.

“Care to share?”

I knew it pained her to even ask, so I divulged a little. “Just had a thought. I wondered if one day, if we ever had kids, if they’d look as cute as you.” Her silence slam dunked me in the nuts, and I scratched at my brow. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have but you asked.”

“I know,” she said quietly. “Want me to show you around some more?”

What I wanted was her face in my hands and my lips all over hers, but I nodded.

“Drew’s room, also known as the dungeon of germs,” she said, opening the door to a pigsty.

“Holy shit,” I said without meaning to, gaping at the chip packets on the floor, cans on the dresser, magazines, textbooks, clothes, and some hockey gear littering the floor and bed.

Drew looked up from where he was lying on said bed playing a video game. He waggled his brows. “Best room in the house.”

Pippa shut the door, continuing down the short hall. “Bathroom, study, my parents, I mean my mom’s room.” I didn’t comment on her slip but frowned, pondering what was going on there. “And my room,” she said, flinging open the last door.

Walking by her, I inhaled deeply through my nose. Her minty scent was everywhere, and spying her green checkered duvet, I forced away the urge to face plant onto it and sniff her pillows.

Posters lined the walls; some bands I recognized, and others I didn’t. Tiny skulls and candles lined her bookshelves, everything neatly stacked away without a layer of dust in sight. “You dusted when you got home?”

“I, ah … had some time to kill.”

Smiling at her, I tilted my head as she bit her thumbnail. “What aren’t you telling me?”

She looked like I’d just slapped her, her cheeks turning pink. “Toby …”

“No,” I said, chuckling a bit. “Not about us.” Although I’d love to discuss that, I knew she didn’t want the same. “Go on, let it out.”

I picked up a photo of her and her mom. They both looked younger. If I had to guess, it was taken about four or five years ago.

“I walked in on my parents, you know, um, yeah.”

Carefully, I set the frame down on the shelf, biting my tongue to keep my laughter in check. Some of it bubbled out as I said, “Seriously?”

She huffed, dropping on her twin bed. “Would I joke about such a traumatizing thing?”

Stepping over to her white desk, I counted three pens and five lead pencils in the pale blue mason jar. “You poor thing.”

“I’ll say. Drew saw it too. They were doing it in the kitchen. Who does that?”

I looked over my shoulder at her then, and her cheeks reddened further. “Okay, so I know loads of people do that. But my parents? My separated, should’ve divorced years ago, and I don’t know why they didn’t parents?”

“They’re back together,” I said, sitting down on the edge of her bed and staring at her purple painted toenails. Don’t touch.

“They are fucking not.” She paused, a gasp flying out of her as she sat up, eyes wide. “They’re back together, and they didn’t think to tell us?”

Lifting a shoulder, I said, “Maybe. Don’t jump to conclusions.”

Her eyes narrowed, and fuck, I wanted to kiss her. “You just said it.”

“I think they are, judging from what I see and what you said, but I could be wrong.”

“Pippa!” Terry called up the stairs. “Can you help me for a minute? Promise you don’t need to cook.”

Smirking at Pippa, I stood and offered my hand. She stared at it, lifting her eyes to mine before taking it. As soon as she was on her feet, she freed her hand from mine, leaving it cold and bereft.

“Let’s go steal something to eat. I’m starved.”

“So am I,” I whispered, watching the sway of her hips as she made haste out of the room.

Pippa was sitting outside with her head stuck in one of her word search books. “There you are.”

“Here I am,” she murmured, coloring a long horizontal row of words that I couldn’t make out from where I was standing with the late afternoon glow.

Her dad had enlisted me to help him pull down a rogue vine out front as soon as I’d had lunch.

He was actually a pretty decent guy. I didn’t have to ask him why he’d asked me; on the way outside, he’d informed me. “Drew’s still a work in progress.” I’d merely grunted, not knowing what to say. “Can’t blame him for holding a grudge. I deserve it, but it still sucks.”

It would. I couldn’t imagine not having the relationship I had with my own dad. So when I heard a sound come from the shed at the back of their long yard, I told Pippa I’d be back.

“You really don’t want to poke the bear,” she’d called after me.

“I’m not poking. I’m seeing if it’s hibernating or sulking.”

The shed was large, big enough for two cars if you got rid of half the work area set up inside. An old couch was tucked in the corner, and an old, dust-covered TV sat on the end of the bench in front of it.

Drew looked up from the game on the TV, doing a double take when he saw I was alone.

“You don’t play anymore?” I gestured to the child-sized hockey stick in the corner on display on the wall. Obviously, his first one.

“Do you?” he asked.

“Oh, snap,” I said. “And yeah, I’m playing again, actually.”

“Good for you. How much did Daddy have to pay them to get your place back on the team?”

“I don’t play for the Tomahawks. I play for the Gray Springs Lions.”

Drew’s brows furrowed. “Who the hell are they?”

“A hobby team,” I informed him as I took a seat on the other end of the couch.

He was looking at me when I glanced over. “How do you go from the prospect of going pro to a fucking hobby team?”

I scratched the stubble coming in on my chin, chuckling. “Well, ah, you get kicked off the college team, go through a lot of shit, then realize you still love the sport.”

“You’re giving up?”

“Football was important to me, too important. Do you remember when you were a kid?” I asked, staring at the hockey stick. “When you played your first game, the whistle blowing, people watching, your teammates surrounding you? The excitement in the air? The anticipation?”

Drew nodded.

“Doing something you love should always make you feel that way. Passionate, but most of all, excited. Happy.”

“Uh-huh. What are you trying to say?”

“Just saying that I lost that feeling somewhere along the way. The passion was still there but got buried beneath the need to make it my life, my everything. The need to make sure I always had it, that it would take me somewhere.”

“You were always scared of losing it then.”

“I was. I just didn’t realize it. And now? Well, I’ve still got the game. I don’t need to make it my everything, and I’m quite capable of taking myself somewhere without it.”

“You’re on medication, right?” Drew asked after a long beat. “Are they happy pills?”

I barked out a laugh. “Not exactly, but yes, I take medication every day. I just … you look like you’re kind of flailing, dude. I thought I’d give you a little bit of my story.”

Drew was silent a while, and I decided to get up and go see his sister again.

“I hate him,” he suddenly said. “He left us years ago, then waltzes back into our lives like nothing happened.” The plastic TV remote groaned inside his clenching fist.

I sank back into the couch. Drew laughed dryly, running a hand through his brown hair. “I don’t even know why I’m saying this to you; I barely fucking know you. You’re like, my sister’s messed-up boyfriend, or ex-boyfriend, who the hell knows.”

“Sometimes, it’s easier to talk to people you don’t know all that well.”

Silence again, then, “I heard you OD’d.”

I tensed, then let out a slow breath. “I did.”

“Wow.”

I chuckled. “You’re telling me.”

“What … what made you do it?”

“I don’t really know exactly,” I admitted. “I never would’ve thought I’d do something like that. But I do know it was the lowest I’d ever been in my entire life. My head, it can get kind of chaotic up in here.” I tapped my temple, a sad smile wriggling my lips.

“You’re better now, though?”

That had me shrugging. “I’ll never be cured, but I’m the best I’ve been in a damn long time. I know that much.”

“You’ll never be cured,” he repeated quietly as though he didn’t mean to say it aloud.

“It’ll always be there. I’m not going to believe that just because I’m feeling good today means I’ll be feeling good next week. But as long as the good days outweigh the bad, and the bad days aren’t nearly as bad as they used to be, then I’ve won.”

Drew made a scoffing sound. “You’ve won against what?”

The smile I gave him felt secretive. I knew he wouldn’t understand but I was okay with that. “Myself.”

Drew’s mouth hung open for a few seconds as he stared at me. Then he snapped it shut, swallowed, and looked back at the TV.

I stood, heading for the door. “You’ve got a right to be mad, and I get it. You don’t want to talk to him or anyone about how you’re feeling, but we all make mistakes, and he’s doing the best he can to fix his.”

He’s here, was all I could think as I set the food down on the table as though he’d disappear at any minute.

My stomach was still flipping ever since I picked it up off the kitchen floor earlier, where it dropped and danced as soon as I saw Toby standing there. In his jeans, a long-sleeved white t-shirt, navy blue socks, and disheveled hair, I barely kept my hands from flying around his neck.

I couldn’t read him or his intentions. I’d been left to drift from one day to the next ever since he left my apartment weeks ago, and now this? I couldn’t wrap my mind around what he was trying to achieve. He was here, but he wasn’t forcing me to talk to him or spend time with him. I was so fucking confused.

Sitting at the table, he was talking with my dad as if they’d known each other half a century. Drew watched on with a gritted jaw but curious eyes from his seat at the head of the table. Which he took before Dad even entered the room.

“Gravy boat coming through,” Mom singsonged, placing it down next to the turkey.

She untucked a chair at the opposite end of the table, taking a seat next to Dad while I took one next to Toby. Either I sat there or between my dad and Drew, and then it’d be obvious I was avoiding Toby. No, better to look like I didn’t give a crap.

Everyone was silent as they busily loaded their plates, and my dad carved the turkey.

I was waiting for Toby to finish with the gravy when he reached over and poured some on my meat and vegetables for me.

Dad cleared his throat. “While this isn’t something I think any of us are used to, I’d like to make it clear that I, for one, am very thankful to be seated here.” His eyes skirted around the table, pausing on Mom, who actually blushed, before they landed on Drew for a long moment. “With all of you.”

We all gave cheers, Drew’s halfhearted at best, and dug in.

“This is so messed up,” Drew muttered after a few minutes had passed, eyes roaming the faces at the table.

Everyone acted as though they didn’t hear him, but I’d had enough. “Messed up? You’re seeing the town reverend’s daughter.”

“She’s normal compared to you guys.” Drew paused. “Well, like 87% normal.”

“What’s the other 13%?” Toby asked, scooping some food onto his fork with his knife.

A groan slipped out of me. “Why did you ask?”

Drew smirked. “That’s for me to know and you to—” I slapped a hand over his mouth, and he shoved it away with a grin.

“Wanna watch the game after?” my dad asked Drew, possibly in an effort to stop the train wreck of a conversation.

The grin fell as Drew glared at him, and I contemplated kicking him. I got it; he wasn’t able to easily express all the ways our dad had hurt him, but shit. All he had to do was make an excuse or say yes.

He said nothing, and Mom’s face was void of expression as she gazed down the table at him. “Drew, honey.”

“What?” he mumbled around a forkful of turkey.

“Your father asked you a question. You can continue being mad while also giving him an answer, you know.”

Cutlery clattered to Drew’s plate as he stared incredulously at Mom. “I don’t wanna do this, so quit forcing me.”

“Drew,” she hissed.

Dad’s hand met Mom’s, and I felt Toby’s land on my knee as he continued to use his other to eat. Gentle, yet firm. A touch to reassure.

“Ter, it’s fine.”

“Ter?” Drew scoffed. “It’s not fine. That’s what you don’t understand.” Drew pushed his chair back, standing. “You wanna do this now? Okay, I’ll do this now.” He reached down, grabbing his glass of water and swallowing the contents before slamming it down onto the table hard enough to rattle the dishes. “You think inviting Pippa’s messed-up boyfriend here would give us all some clarity? Huh? That it would make me understand Dad’s not the only asshole in the world?”

“Shut the fuck up,” I growled, glaring up at him.

Toby squeezed my knee as Drew sent an apologetic look his way. “Sorry, just trying to make a point here.”

Toby waved his hand out as if to say go right ahead.

My hand met his under the table, my eyes stinging with tears. He was being dragged through the muck of our family, yet he remained strong, unshakable, as if he almost wanted it to happen.

“Drew, that’s not why I invited him here.”

“It is, and you damn well know it. You want to get back with Dad? Fine. You want to risk that he’ll probably bail on us again? Fine. You want to act like he didn’t leave us in a pile of steaming shit years ago? Fine. But how about a fucking conversation first, huh? A little warning.”

Mom paled, her hand rising to her chest.

“He does have a point there,” I added gently.

Dad looked at Mom, then back at Drew. “You’re right. We should’ve spoken with you, but we didn’t know …”

Mom waved a hand. “Stop. Not here and not now.” Looking pointedly at Drew, she said, “There’s a time and place. And yes, I should’ve discussed it with you, but that’s hard to do when you don’t want to.”

Drew looked like he was about to flip the table Hulk-style as he stared at her in disbelief. “You know what? Fuck this.”

“Drew!” she yelled. “Don’t you dare walk out—”

The front door slammed shut, reverberating up the hall to meet us, rendering everyone silent.

“Happy fucking Thanksgiving,” I muttered, picking up my utensils again.

Toby was rinsing dishes and putting them in the dishwasher. I stopped beside him, wrapping the leftover turkey. “I’m so sorry; he never should’ve said that stuff to you.”

He shut the door, leaning against the counter. “It wasn’t about me, not really.” At my confused expression, he went on, “He needed to do it, but it was about him. It’s obvious he bottles shit up, so he needed to explode. It was killing him. Wait him out now, there might be some change.”

“I don’t know about that,” I mumbled, tucking the plastic wrap back into the drawer.

“Wanna watch the game, Toby?” my dad asked, walking into the kitchen to put some leftovers in the fridge.

Toby looked at me a long moment. He wanted to stay with me, but I didn’t think I could be alone with him. Not now, not ever, but most especially not now. Not when my thoughts were so scattered, emotions were haywire, and I could still feel his touch on my knee.

“Go,” I said. “I’ve got some things I need to do.” I left the kitchen without a backward glance.

I didn’t go back downstairs and opted for an early night instead. This weekend was strange and was playing havoc on my psyche.

I tossed and turned, a glance at the time telling me that each hour was racing by, and still, no sound of footsteps coming up the stairs.

Throwing my blankets off, I tucked my feet into my slippers and went downstairs.

Toby was asleep on the couch, my dad passed out on the other, while infomercials played silently on the TV.

Toby looked peaceful, his chest rising and falling evenly, and his hand in his hair, as though he’d been touching it when he fell asleep.

Gently, I stroked a finger down his cheek. But he didn’t wake. It puzzled me. He was usually a light sleeper. “Toby,” I whispered, tapping his cheek.

Slowly, his eyes blinked open, and a small smile transformed his alluring face. I tugged self-consciously at my sleep shorts, my breasts tightening as he licked his lips and asked groggily, “Wanna snuggle?”

I couldn’t stop the giggle that escaped. “No, just thought I’d wake you so you don’t get a stiff neck from sleeping here all night.”

“What time is it?” He sat up, looking around the living room.

“One in the morning.”

Frowning adorably, he stretched his arms over his head, displaying a tiny morsel of hair that trailed into his pants. “Why are you awake?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” I admitted quietly. “Did you take your medication?”

“Sure did,” he said, standing and towering over me.

My throat bobbed as I stared up at him, taking a step backward. “Right, well. Good night.”

“G’night, Pip-squeak,” he said as I dragged my feet away.

Smiling to myself, I flipped him off over my shoulder, retreating to my room.

Sleep still evaded me and what felt like five minutes later, but was probably an hour, my door creaked open, and the bed dipped with Toby’s weight before his arms wrapped around me from behind.

“Sleep,” he whispered to the top of my hair, and I was too tired to argue. I needed him there more than I wanted him there because my lids closed, and as I sank into his warmth, I slipped away.

Toby was already downstairs the next morning, eating pancakes with Drew at the table, who was actually smiling and laughing with him.

I readjusted my towel turban, pouring myself some coffee before heading back upstairs to dry my hair. Nuthouse indeed. It seemed everyone in this family was a little unhinged, including myself.

“Pippa.” My dad tapped his knuckles on my bedroom door a while later as I was packing my things away. “I’m heading out for a few hours. I need some things from the hardware store, and your mom wants to talk to Drew.”

“And you think it’ll be better if you’re not here.” I zipped my duffel, tugging my dress down over my leggings as I stood from the bed.

“Yep. I’ll take you back later. Is that okay?”

Knowing he was checking to see if I wanted to ride back with Toby, I nodded, relief sweeping through me. “Yeah, but I can go back with him. It’s stupid to make you drive all that way when he can take me.”

“I want to,” he said before walking off.

Alrighty then. I went downstairs, my stomach grumbling. Toby found me in the kitchen eating leftover bacon. “Wanna go for a drive?”

I licked my fingers, watching his eyes dart to my mouth with a little too much satisfaction. “Where to?”

“You tell me. You grew up here.”

“I can show you where my second boyfriend scored a boob grab.”

Toby scowled. “You trying to test me?”

“No, it’s a genuine offer.” I washed my hands and wiped them on the dish towel.

“I’ll go anywhere with you, but I don’t need to know about that stuff.” He tucked his hands into his pockets, lips twitching with irritation.

I felt bad but only a little. “Let me grab a jacket and I’ll meet you outside.”

The car’s rumbling vibrations and his scent everywhere really did my libido no favors. My legs clenched, my eyes searching for scenery to point out to him in an effort to distract myself.

“So when did you get the tattoo?” I asked as we bypassed the truck stop.

“You noticed that, did you?” When I didn’t give him the satisfaction of responding, he continued. “The first week I got out of Millstones. When I realized I could really do this.”

“I like it,” I said, when what I wanted to say was that I loved it. “What did you talk about in there?”

I wasn’t just asking for selfish reasons. I was genuinely curious about what had happened, what led him to become this more solid version of himself.

“Loads of things.” He tossed me a smile. “My feelings, doubts, school, you, football, my dad …”

“Your mom?” I asked hesitantly.

A sigh followed his nod. “I don’t know her, so I don’t know if our problems are anywhere remotely the same. I just needed to discover the source of mine. And they’re not from abandonment. My overactive brain is just that, overactive. Obsessive.”

With my hands fisting together, I told him about the message she’d left for my dad months ago. That she’d said to tell him she loved him, and she was sorry.

“I thought about her a fair bit when I first arrived at Millstones. But you and I both know there’s no point in looking for someone who doesn’t wanna be found. Yes, there might always be a small part of me that wondered why she left, and if we weren’t good enough for her, but it’s small. And I can live with that.”

My hands unclenched, my smile unfurling as his words rotated around in my head. I was proud of him. So proud. Not knowing how or if I could voice that, I pointed out something else to him instead. “There’s the corner store where Phil Conner stole ten bucks from me, then lied when I told on him.”

Toby slowed the car, arm leaning lazily over the steering wheel as he peered over at the yellow and red little shop.

“I wasn’t allowed back in the store for a whole week because I told lies and made him cry.”

“Assholes,” Toby said, voice laced with humor.

“Yep. The smug idiot made a huge show of naming me Pip-squeak, the squeaker of lies.”

“That’s why you didn’t like the name.”

I nodded, looking over at him as he sped up and continued down the main street of Willowmina. “Didn’t, yes.”

He made no comment on what that implied, just smiled out the front window until we reached the high school. “It’s small.”

“It is. There were only about four hundred kids when I attended.”

He pulled up out front, opening his door and getting out. “Where are you going?”

I got no answer, so with a sigh, I unclipped my seat belt and followed him over to a side gate. He rattled it, then pulled out his keys and flipped open the switch blade attached to the key ring.

“That’s what you guys use those things for?”

Toby shrugged, the lock popping open after some finagling. “It has many uses.”

Looking around the empty lot, I felt nostalgia take hold, transporting me back to when college felt like a dream that would never seem real until I got there. All the experiences that’d seemed mediocre in school, still waiting for me out in the big wide world.

And there I was, a sophomore who’d experienced far more than I ever could’ve bargained for.

I pointed out the classrooms, some of the funny things that’d happened, and some of the bad. When we reached the football field, I gestured to the bleachers. “My first kiss was behind them, cliché and disgusting.”

Toby kicked up some dirt, staring across the field before finally looking down at me. “Disgusting?”

“Wet, slobbery. I went home sick afterward and tried not to hurl for a full hour.” I laughed at myself. “I didn’t kiss anyone else until junior year.”

Toby grabbed my hand, pulling me toward the bleachers until we rounded them. “Here?” he asked, both his hands holding both of mine, his thumbs gliding softly over my skin.

Blinking up at him, I nodded. “Yeah, wh—”

His mouth met and moved slowly over mine. Deliberately and carefully prying my lips apart to slide his along them. They dragged, and they grew wet, and even without our tongues involved, my knees quaked almost as much as my heart.

He pulled away, his hands still holding mine, while I stared at him without a thought in my head and barely any breath left in my lungs.

Without a word, he walked me back through the school, locking the gate behind us before we got back into his car.

Frustration and desperation warred with my confusion, and I couldn’t contain it anymore. “Why’d you just give up?”

“Did I?” He watched me with a lazy smile.

“Yes. You stopped fighting; you stopped pushing. You stopped … you just stopped.”

“Pippa, I’d said all I needed to say. I’m not going to bully you into being with me. I’m not going to stalk your every move. I’m still here. I’m just waiting you out until you can see that I’ve got this, and most importantly, that I’m not going anywhere.” The intensity in his eyes calmed. “I’ll still love you. I’ll just keep doing it quietly, if that’s what you need.”

The ignition turned over, and my mouth shut before my heart could crawl out and leap onto his lap, begging him to make it all right again.

We arrived back at my place five minutes later, where I watched in that same state of euphoric confusion as he tossed his bags into his car, said goodbye to my mom and brother, and drove away.

I stared after his taillights, hugging my arms to my chest and feeling like I was at a crossroads, but I’d already started taking the wrong turn.

He’d barely even looked at me as he left, and for the life of me, I couldn’t figure out if that was a good or very bad thing.

“Pippa,” Mom said, her hand rubbing my arm as I stayed rooted in the driveway.

I inhaled a deep lungful of cold air and forced a smile. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine,” she said, following me into the house.

“Okay, I’m not. I’m confused, and tired, and … and fucked.”

She raised a brow. “You really had to say that?”

I groaned. “No lectures on my potty mouth right now. Thanks.”

Drew was watching a movie in the living room when we walked by it to the kitchen.

Mom put some coffee on, taking a seat beside me at the counter and flicking through a magazine as she waited for it.

Leaning my head on my hand, I watched her. “Are you and Dad back together?”

“Define together.”

My nose wrinkled. “I’d rather not.”

She smiled, licking a finger and turning the page. “We’re, I don’t know, seeing how things go. We hadn’t exactly talked about it at length until Drew’s spectacular explosion last night.”

“You hadn’t?” I sat back. That meant … “You’ve just been acting like a bunch of hormonal teens then? Not even stopping to think, oh, wait a minute, this dude bailed on me six years ago, should I really be doing this?”

Mom laughed, closing the magazine. “Actually, yeah. That’s about right.”

I slid off the stool. “Craziness.”

“It’s complicated, Pippa.”

I snorted. “You’ve got that fucking right.” Pausing in the doorway, I turned. “Hang on, so if he were to outright ask you, you’d take him back, just like that?”

She didn’t hesitate. “Absolutely.”

My eyes bugged out. “How can you say that?”

“Quite easily, really.”

“No.” I shook my head, blinking. “After he left. He left us for years. Not to mention he got a new girlfriend.”

“Pippa.” Turning on her stool, Mom smiled sadly at me, the lines around her eyes evening out as she sighed. “Every decision is laced with right and wrong at your age. Partly because you walk around feeling like you have all the time in the world. And unfortunately, that’s not true.” She lifted her shoulders. “I’m not getting any younger.”

When I went to interject, she held up a hand. “I know what I want. What I’ve always wanted. And I’m not stupid enough not to take it. Life is already complicated enough. No need to complicate it further with stubborn pride.” Scoffing, she said, “Been there, done that, and got two brokenhearted children to show for it.”

“He’s tried to come back before?” I asked, not sure why I wasn’t exactly surprised.

“He tried a year after he’d left, and you can blame me, get mad at me for saying no and turning him away. In hindsight, it probably wasn’t the right thing to do. But I thought it was at the time. He wasn’t better, and I was too hurt. I didn’t trust him, and I was far too angry with him to support him.”

Holy steaming piles of shit.

My head and heart started to pound simultaneously, growing worse when she added one more blow. “Pippa. Pride is a wonderful thing to have until it gets in the way of everything you want. People leave, and people make mistakes. But sometimes, they come back, and they fix them.”

“No freaking way.”

“Yes freaking way.”

“He just showed up there?”

“Technically, my mom invited him.”

Daisy made a high-pitched keening noise, her hands slapping together before clenching tight under her chin. “What?”

“Nothing.” She continued to grin so broadly, I thought she’d get an instant headache.

“You’re creeping me out.”

“Are you guys …?”

“No, I don’t know. But it was good to hang out. Just being … with him, I guess.” I tucked my knees under my chin, staring unseeingly at the opening scene of the TV show that’d just come on. “Too bad my family entered stage 1000 let’s embarrass Pippa and air all our dirty problems mode.”

“No way,” she said again. I shot her a glare, and she winced. “Sorry. That’s just … holy cannoli.”

“Mmmhmm.” My glare shifted to my toes, watching them curl over the rough fabric on the edge of the couch. “I think my parents are getting back together.”

Another squeal she tried to quieten unsuccessfully. “How do you know?”

“You mean besides walking in on them doing it over the kitchen counter?” I paused, looking at her as that sank in. Daisy bit her lips to stop from laughing. “They seemed, I don’t know, happy. And my mom made no secret of the fact she’d take him back.”

“Something about kitchens,” Daisy muttered. “I busted my parents in the kitchen when I was a kid. Though I didn’t really understand what they were doing at the time, so I survived.”

“Lucky bitch.”

She laughed. “She must have never stopped loving him.”

“I know she never has.”

“You’re not happy for them?”

Thinking on that a minute, I took my time replying. “I am. I’m just kind of confused.”

“But not about them,” she commented. “Just talk to him.”

“I have, and I can’t.”

“You’re still scared.”

“That obvious?” I slumped back into the couch cushions. “Enough about me. How was the farm? The crazy bull set his sights on you again?”

“No.” She mock-shivered. “Thank God. It was good. Relaxing. Quinn caught up with some high school buddies this time, so that was surreal. Everyone gets old looking so quickly.”

“Old looking?”

“You know what I mean.” She waved a hand. “They change.”

Huffing out a humorous breath through my nose, I shook my head.

“The team is throwing some kind of party Saturday night. Apparently, they’re sick of sulking and wanna let loose.”

“When don’t they party whenever they want?”

Daisy hummed. “Not all of them do. Most of them show up, but they don’t get wasted or even drink at times.”

Not drinking sent my thoughts back to Toby. Again. “Yeah.”

“Yeah what?”

“I don’t know.”

Daisy stood, tossing her long blond braid over her shoulder as she grabbed her purse. “I’ve gotta go. Told Quinn I’d meet him at home soon so we could grab some groceries together. You wanna come tomorrow night?”

Home. I was still stuck on that word. A stab of jealousy ignited when I thought about the fact she got to be close to the person I couldn’t be.

Whose fault is that? I slammed a fist down on my unhelpful thoughts.

“You know what?” I smiled up at her. “I think I will come with.”

Daisy stared a moment before nodding. “I’ll text you the address.”

The door shut with a boom behind her.

“Good morning,” Robin, one of the other volunteers, said as I signed in at the office.

“Hey, how many strays over Thanksgiving?”

Robin flicked a piece of paper my way, and I cringed. “Ten?” Eight dogs and two cats were listed.

“Idiots were apparently letting off fireworks in town.”

“Fucking muppets.”

She made a sound of agreement, grabbing some keys off the wall while I tucked my purse away. “A few dogs found new homes over the past week. So luckily, we’ve got enough room. Just. Though if another dog gets brought in …” She trailed off, shaking her head as she walked out of the room.

No explanation needed.

Almost forgetting the treats I bought Bruce, I retrieved them from my purse before starting the morning walks. Some dogs were let out in a pen to stretch their legs, play catch, and sniff each other’s butts. If they weren’t already, they were spayed or neutered when they arrived here.

Though others, like Bruce, didn’t always play nice and had to be walked around the large lot on a leash.

As I approached the end of the run, I found Pete washing out Bruce’s cage.

“Hey.” He smiled.

My heart slammed into my stomach. “Who has Bruce?”

“Oh, the big fella that was in here?”

I nodded, eyes wide and urging him to hurry the hell up and give me an explanation.

“He got rehomed. Just last weekend, I think.”

“What?”

“Yep. Estelle had to come in and fill out the paperwork on Sunday afternoon.” He whistled. “She was not happy Monday morning.”

“But,” I sputtered. “Where?”

Pete frowned. “Not sure, sorry.”

My eyes burned with tears, my feet carrying me on instinct back toward Clancy’s cage, a skittish border collie in the next row over.

Hesitantly, I reached into my pocket, giving her one of Bruce’s treats before clipping her leash on and walking her over in the far end of the facility. I should’ve been happy, and I was. I was relieved he’d found another home when no one thought he would.

Knowing it didn’t stop the tears from escaping, though.

I finished my shift quickly and efficiently, feeling sadly detached, then went home to mope with a tub of mint ice cream.

My phone rang from my bedroom later, causing my heart to hitch. I hadn’t heard from Toby since I got home on Sunday.

Looking at the display, I discovered it was my dad.

Trying not to sound disappointed, I answered with, “Hey.”

“Hi, kiddo. How you doing?”

“Okay,” I said, walking back out to the living area. “How’s Drew?”

“Drew.”

I rolled my eyes. “Still not any better?”

Dad sighed. “Not really, but he’s apparently decided to join the team again, so that’s a start.”

“They let him back?”

“He wouldn’t tell me. Your mom had to speak with his coach for him and explain some things, but yeah, he’s back.”

“They make excuses for good players.”

He chuckled. “They’re smart.”

Barking reached my ear. “The neighbors get a dog?”

“One sec.”

Rustling and some more growling ensued, my dad’s hushed voice saying, “Sit, no, no. Sit, yes, good boy. No. Shit.” Biting my lip, I waited for him to return. “Sorry. Check your phone, um … now.”

Putting him on speaker, I opened the picture that came through. My hand flew to my mouth as my phone clattered to the floor.

“Pippa?” my dad called out. “You there?”

I batted the onslaught of tears away, sniffling as I picked up my now cracked phone and said, “You didn’t.”

“I did. But Bruce, really? Can we change that?”

Crazed laughter erupted from me, loud and hysterical. “Oh, my God. That’s why you wanted to drive me back?”

“Subtle, right?” He chuckled. “This guy is trouble, Pip.”

“I told you he was.” He’d heard all about Bruce after I’d first started working at the shelter.

“Didn’t think he was this bad, though.” He guffawed. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Put the phone to his ear,” I said.

“Okay, wait up.”

“Bruce, baby!”

More rustling. “Okay, no. He’s trying to eat it.”

I scoffed. “He wouldn’t.”

“How well do you know this dog?” He laughed. “Because your mom may just actually divorce me now. He ate her only pair of Manolos.”

Sniffling and laughing again, I said through a tear-strained voice, “Love you, Dad.”

“Love you too, kiddo.”

Hip-hop music shook the small house, and I took my water bottle with me outside to stop the looming headache from getting any worse.

“You’re drinking water?” Ed screwed up his face as I approached him and Callum.

“Had practice this afternoon and got a headache from not drinking enough.”

Callum held up his drink in salute. “How’s that going?”

Ed snorted. “Probably better than our asses are.”

“Speak for yourself, butter-fucking-fingers,” Callum interjected.

Ed’s arms spread out with his outrage. “Totally wasn’t my fault, asshole.”

I laughed with a shake of my head.

Callum narrowed an eye on me. “Laugh it up but do me a favor. Do not come to a game anytime soon.”

“Embarrassing, man,” Ed agreed.

“You lost by two points. Get over it.”

“Get over it?” Ed repeated. “You hear this dude?”

Callum took a sip of his drink. “Oh, I’m hearing it.”

I felt eyes on me, warming my neck and stomach. Turning around, I surveyed the small yard, peering through groups of people until I caught a flash of long brown hair.

“You back with her yet?” Ed asked, following my line of sight.

“Not yet.”

“Yet being the keyword there,” Callum said, pounding me on the arm. “Go straighten that out.”

That was kind of why I was there. Quinn, who was sitting by a burned-out drum with Daisy, Paul, and some chick I didn’t know, had said she was coming tonight with Daisy. I’d let her be since we got back, waiting to see if she was ready after our weekend together.

Because I knew when I felt her lips on my own that she was far from done with me.

“I’d lose the water first, though. Seriously.” Ed eyed the bottle like it was losing me some serious street cred.

“Fuck off,” I said with a grin, then made my way through the small clusters of people to find Pippa. I got pulled aside by a girl in my algebra class, asking if I could study with her sometime. I politely declined and kept on walking.

Green eyes burned bright in the dark, and I kept mine pinned on hers as I approached her and some guy she was talking to. She laughed, her eyes leaving mine as she returned her attention to him.

Don’t overreact. Chill.

I didn’t know who he was, and his back was to me, but I didn’t care. My blood simmered, ready to ignite if he touched her and …

He touched her. Not only did he brush his hand over her cheek, but he also leaned down to put his fucking mouth on something that wasn’t his.

But she technically wasn’t mine either. No matter how much it felt that way.

It slammed me upside the head then, making me spin around and walk away before I did something stupid. Every part of me belonged to her, but it was time to realize that no matter what I did, she might never belong to me.

I pushed the guy back. “You’re funny, but just because I laugh at something you say doesn’t mean you can try to kiss me.”

He had the good grace to look a little sheepish. “I’m sorry. I’m horrible at reading signals.”

“What’s your name again?”

“Aaron.”

“Right, Aaron. You were this close”—I pinched the air—“to getting the nipple cripple of a lifetime.”

Staggering back a step, he laughed. “A nipple cripple?”

“You heard me.” I peered around him, trying to see where Toby went. “Anyway, I’ll be going now.”

Daisy found me inside as I continued my search for him. “Have you seen Toby? I swear he was here.”

“He and Quinn left. I’ve been trying to find you.”

I could hardly hear her over the noise but heard enough to grab her hand and head back outside. “They left?”

“Yeah,” she said. “I don’t know why. I told Quinn I’d stay with you a while longer, though.”

Confused, I tucked some hair behind my ear, feeling kind of stupid for getting all dolled up. I’d even shaved. Every-fucking-where.

“You okay?” she asked.

“I think I’ll just head home then. Wanna share a cab?”

She nodded and waited as I called the cab service on the porch, then followed me out front.

I could’ve kicked myself right in the boob for how long it took to click.

“Shit,” I hissed, rubbing my cheek as the cab pulled up.

“What’s wrong?”

I slid into the front seat, giving directions to the townhouse as Daisy climbed into the back. After we arrived a few minutes later, I told Daisy, “Some guy tried to kiss me, and I think Toby saw.”

“Well crap.” She handed the driver a ten-dollar bill. “I’ll take Quinn upstairs.”

At my pinched expression, she shot me an exasperated look. “Oh, don’t even.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t have to.”

We were still laughing as we entered the living room where we found Quinn and Toby sprawled out on the couch, a movie blaring through the room. “I knew it was his dad. I’m not that dumb.”

“But everyone on the planet probably knows that,” Toby said. “So you’re not scoring any points there, dude.”

“Points?” Quinn asked.

“You’re watching Star Trek?” Daisy spoke above the volume, startling them.

They both spun their heads to us, Toby’s eyes giving away nothing except for mild surprise.

“It’s Star Wars, Dais,” Quinn informed her smugly.

“Whatever. Come upstairs.”

Quinn’s eyes widened, then he looked from me to Toby and nodded. “Gotcha.”

Daisy’s laughter was cut off by Quinn’s door closing, and only then did I finally walk over to where Toby was sitting.

“You left.” I sat down right next to him.

A sigh left him, his fingers moving to his brow. “You looked busy.”

“Did I?”

Blue eyes shot to mine, the emotion in them swirling like a raging sea. “What the fuck, Pippa? I’m sorry, but I can only take so much, okay? I told you I’d—”

His words broke off, scattering somewhere in the room as I climbed onto his lap. He stared up at me, disbelief crinkling his features and making my fingers itch to smooth the creases. I let them, but he caught my hand as my finger traced the crease between his brows.

“Pippa.” His voice was hoarse, his throat bobbing as he swallowed. “You can’t kiss some guy and just—”

“I didn’t.”

His hand dropped mine, his head rearing back slightly. “I saw him.”

“You saw him attempting to kiss me. He didn’t get the chance.”

Arms darted out, wrapping around me and crushing my boobs into his face. “Jesus.”

“I got stuck talking to him when I went outside to look for you. He was funny, harmless, but almost got nipple crippled.”

He chuckled, rubbing his face back and forth over my chest. “I thought I was going to kill him, so I left.”

“You should know me better than that by now,” I whispered.

“I know,” he said. “I know, but it occurred to me as I watched you with him that maybe I really wasn’t what you wanted anymore.”

“You are what I want. And what I need is for you to love me loudly again. What I need is all of you. The you who makes my head spin with confusion; the you who laughs at his own thoughts and mumbles in his sleep. The you who speaks his mind. The you who doesn’t stop if he wants something. The you who stole my heart, refused to give it back, and decided to run away with it without warning me. But Toby”—tears filled my throat as he looked up at me—“you can’t leave again. Not unless you take me with you.”

“I promise.” He grabbed my face. “I promise, and I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. Be you, just … don’t forget about me.”

“That’d be impossible.” He kissed me roughly, his hands tangling in my hair. Our tongues licked, our teeth scraped, and then he was standing, carrying me out of the room.

We laughed into each other’s mouths when he tripped on the bottom step, his arm flying out to the wall to steady himself before he continued up the stairs.

Dropping me to my feet in his room, he fisted the hem of my dress and tugged it over my head.

“Quinn and Daisy are here,” I panted as he tore my panties down my legs.

He reached for my bra, unclasping it and sending it careening into the wall. “Fuck Quinn and Daisy.” He slammed the door.

I felt lightheaded as he reached behind him to remove his shirt, then unzipped his jeans, pushing them and his briefs over his length and down his legs.

With his arm around my waist, we fell to the bed in a naked heap. Everywhere his skin touched mine, it burned, and I pulled him over me, desperate to keep as much of him touching as much of me as possible.

“You’re crying,” he whispered, kissing my chin.

“I’m so happy, but I’m still scared,” I said, my voice strangled.

His brows furrowed, then he kissed my nose, moving to my cheeks to lick my tears. Near my ear, he whispered, “You know my soul, and I know yours. There’s no coming back from that. There’s no removing you from me. I’ve tried, and it’s futile.”

My back arched as he sucked my earlobe into his mouth, and his hand snuck between us, his fingers parting my slick flesh.

“I love you really doesn’t seem worthy enough to explain how I feel about you,” he said as his bare chest met mine.

Loving him would always be bittersweet, but I knew then that the sweet would always outweigh the bitter.

Sniffing a little, I smiled, wrapping my legs around his waist. “Then show me.”

His answering smile was wicked as he worked himself inside, his forehead dropping to mine as he groaned and stilled. Then he moved. We stared, and we breathed each other’s breaths. And when the flames climbed, melting me into a mush of sensation, he was right there, burning with me.

The stadium was decked out with Christmas wreaths, tinsel, and lights strung up everywhere, even throughout the parking lot.

Grabbing Pippa’s hands, I cupped them in mine and blew a gust of warm breath over them as we waited for the team to get back into position.

We were down by two, but it was far from over yet, and I had that feeling. That feeling that said to wait and watch. They were going to turn this thing around.

“Got any more chips?” Daisy asked from where she sat next to Pippa.

Pippa said no but pulled out a bag of peanuts from her purse. Some days, I swear she was Mary Poppins in a past life with the number of things she could store in that small thing. It never bulged, and it never took her long to dig out what she was looking for.

The whistle blew, and I leaned forward, clasping my hands together between my knees.

Coach caught my eye, held it, and gave me a short nod. I smiled, knowing it was his way of asking how I was doing.

We’d talked briefly since I returned to campus this semester, and I explained in detail about everything that’d happened. I knew I wouldn’t earn my place back on the team, and so did he, but he wanted to know how I was, and I felt I owed it to him and myself to tell him why I’d made such a mess of things.

Daisy squeaked when Quinn went down, and knowing she’d probably be as tense as granite, he shot her a thumbs-up as soon as he was cleared.

“I don’t like sitting this close,” Daisy murmured. “It’s scarier or something. More real.”

I smirked, watching Paul throw in. “Getting the wind knocked out of you by a two-hundred-and-fifty-pound dude is about as real as it gets.”

“Fucking crazy,” Pippa whispered.

My hands clenched as Burnell took the snap and nailed a thirty-yard pass, Grellerson taking it through to the end zone. Then I was up, joining the stadium in an eruption of screams and stomping feet.

“They’re winning now,” Daisy said.

“We’re catching on,” Pippa informed me as I sat back down, smiling as if I was the one who made the winning pass. Pippa’s hand traveled up my back, her fingers sinking into my hair and rubbing. “You okay?” she whispered.

Tearing my eyes away from the game, I grabbed the side of her face and touched my lips to hers for three pounding heartbeats. “More than okay.”

She smiled, pecking me quickly before letting me return my attention to the field.

I missed it. Boy, oh boy, did I fucking miss it. Some days, I was still hit with those irrational feelings of envy, which I didn’t think would ever completely go away. But it felt right. I felt like I was in the right place, so I wasn’t going to let it stop me from enjoying anything to do with the game I loved.

My sharp exhale clouded in front of me as Callum blitzed through the offensive line but was then taken to the ground, hitting it hard enough to send his helmet flying.

He didn’t get up.

The ref ran onto the field, arms spread and whistle blowing as the game came to a screeching halt.

The on-site paramedics raced toward him, and I turned to Pippa. “Stay with Daisy. I’ll find you.”

I leaped over the rows of chairs, jogging down the steps and hurtling myself over the barrier and onto the field.

The ref and some of the Tomahawks were making everyone stand back, but I pushed my way to the front of the throng in time to see them carefully maneuver him onto the stretcher.

“He’s unconscious?”

“For a little bit,” Quinn said, then Callum cursed, groaning loudly and clutching his arm to his chest. “He’s come to now.”

We cleared the way for them to take him off the field and through the small tunnel that led outside. The whistle blew, and Coach Lawson quickly prepped a freshman to replace Callum.

“Shit.” Quinn put his helmet back on. “You going to the hospital?”

“Yeah. I’ll get the girls and meet you there.”

He nodded, jogging back onto the field and taking position.

Racing back to the other side of the stadium, I found Pippa and Daisy already waiting for me at the sidelines. “Let’s go,” Pippa said.

Daisy looked paler than usual, and Pippa grabbed her hand when I grabbed hers to lead them outside to my car.

“Did it look bad?” Daisy asked as I peeled out of the parking lot.

“He was hugging an arm to his chest and was apparently knocked out for a minute maybe. I don’t know much more than that; they took him away pretty quickly.”

“You guys are nuts,” Pippa said.

My lip curled as I grabbed her hand, holding it in mine until we reached the university hospital.

I turned the car off, Pippa’s hand squeezing mine. Looking over at her concerned face, I gave her as reassuring a smile as I could. “I’m okay, and you can do this too.”

With a nod, she glanced at the small hospital, her slim throat bobbing as she was swept away by memories I’d put there.

I could hate myself for it and regret it until the day I died, but there’d be no use. So I got out, rounded the car as Daisy shut the back door, and helped Pippa out of the car.

The team showed up as soon as the game ended, still in their jerseys with sweat mussed hair. They all took seats when we told them there was no news yet. Mike even showed up, taking a seat in the back corner beside Robbo.

A few latecomers arrived, the new players mainly, who were showered and wanting to check in.

My leg bounced, Pippa’s hand doing nothing to still it as I glanced around for anything to distract me. The TV was playing, but the newscaster’s voice was too faint to hear over the din of noises surrounding us.

He’d be fine. Maybe a fracture. Surgery at worst.

Trying to convince myself was great but just being there had my nerves on high alert.

The smell, the sounds, the feeling of something forcing its way down my…

“Here.” Pippa handed me my phone. “You left it in the car.”

She’d opened the Words with Friends app on both my phone and hers. Silently, she played a game with me until finally, a full forty-five minutes after we’d arrived, a doctor came out.

Handing my phone to Pippa, Daisy, Ed, Quinn, and I all walked over to greet him.

“I’m Dr. Sullivan.” He glanced around our small group. “Is Mrs. Welsh here?”

Taken aback, I too glanced around. But I’d never met Callum’s mom, so I didn’t know who I was looking for.

Daisy rocked back on her heels. “Uh, I don’t know if his parents live locally.”

“They do,” I said.

The doctor shook his head, the noise of the waiting room rising over the sound of the automatic doors opening and closing.

“No, we’ve called Mrs. Welsh.” He glanced down at his clipboard. “Renee.”

“What?” Quinn asked what we were all thinking.

“I’m here,” Renee’s breathless voice came from behind us. We all turned, watching as she pushed some hair back behind her ear, her eyes trained on the doctor. “Where is he?”

“Wait, why are yo—”

Daisy’s hand smacked into Quinn’s chest, her eyes wider than saucers. “She’s his wife.”

The doctor stood there, waiting for us all to get our shit together, as Renee confirmed. “Yes. Now, where is he?”

“Come with me.” The doctor gestured through to the emergency room, but I caught the words X-rays and mild concussion before they disappeared through the frosted doors.

Sitting back down next to Pippa, I asked, “You get all that?”

“Uh-huh.” Her voice was low but full of mirth.

My cheeks hollowed as I blew out a long breath. “Un-fucking-believable.”

“Married?” Daisy kept saying. “Oh, my God. I kissed a married guy,” she hissed at Pippa, her eyes still wide enough to freak me out.

“I don’t need any reminders. Thanks,” Quinn muttered under his breath.

Pippa’s head fell to my shoulder, and my arm wrapped around her as we both laughed.

Ten years later

“It was just amazing, man. We really got it together in that last half. It just all really came together. Know what I’m saying?”

Nodding eagerly, I agreed. “I know. Looking forward to getting home to Lenita?”

“Yeah, man. She’s gonna pop any day now. Wait, can I shout out to her here? I can do that, right?”

“Go for it, but she’ll need to pick up the next issue of Sports Illustrated to catch it.”

Haze’s grin was megawatt as he wiped beads of sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. “If it says my name, she finds it. Ain’t gotta worry about that.”

Chuckling, I jerked my head for him to continue.

“Lenita, honey, I love you more than this game, more than life itself. Hopefully when you read this, little bunion will be here.”

“Bunion?” I asked, staring down at my notes to see if I’d missed something.

“That’s what we call the little guy. Yeah, yeah. I know it’s a foot thing. It was onion and then it … yeah, okay. You get the point.”

I didn’t but wasn’t about to argue the point with a guy twice as big as me who was still running high on adrenaline. “Say.” Haze took a sip from his water bottle, leaning forward and making the plastic chair groan. “Don’t you have a kid of your own now, Hawthorne?”

“I sure do.” A grin overtook my face at the thought of Darcy. “And another on the way.”

“Nice, man. Nice.”

“Will you be returning to the Lakers next season?”

Haze rubbed his bottom lip, trying to veil his smile. “I hope so. I don’t think my work here is done yet.”

After a few more questions, we wrapped the interview with rough claps on the back. “Wanna come out with us? Have a few drinks?”

“I know what your idea of a few drinks is,” I replied with a grin. “And I’ve got a flight to catch.”

“Pussy,” he joked. “Nah. Understandable, man.”

We clapped hands, and security led me out of the building to hundreds of fans waiting in the parking lot who were hoping for a sighting of the team or an autograph.

The lights streamed by in colorful blobs through the taxi window. The taxi window replaced an hour later with that of an airplane.

I settled back into my seat, rewriting and working my notes into chronological order for most of the trip home.

Home was now in Willowmina, where Pippa had gotten a job as a veterinary technician after graduating the year after me. Up until then, I’d taken local jobs with a small newspaper just outside of Gray Springs, which allowed me to stay close to Pippa and my psychologist while still living at the townhouse.

Pippa was either there, or I was at her place, but we didn’t move in together officially until we moved to her hometown. The amount of time we’d spent together had prepared us enough so the only thing that changed was our surroundings. And even though I’d broached the subject of moving in together many times before then, I knew Pippa clung to her independence with an iron fist created by residual fear.

There was nothing to be done for that except to slowly prove that fear wrong. Which I had.

Funnily enough, I didn’t feel guilty at all for moving farther away from my dad.

That was all thanks to Kara, who he’d met and married before Pippa and I even graduated. They both happily made the trip out to see us whenever he wanted to. Kara was good for him, kindhearted yet firm with two grown kids of her own. But she could’ve been the wicked witch of the west, and so long as she made my dad happy, I’d deal.

My phone lit up with Darcy and Pippa’s smiling faces as soon as I powered it on after walking through security. Climbing into my car, I let it idle as I read the stream of messages that’d come through.

Terry: The cake is blue. Did you know this? Does she want to confuse people?

Terry: Of course, she does. And of course, you didn’t know. I’ll let that slide, but I’m getting pink EVERYTHING.

I chuckled into the silence of the car when I got to the next one.

Mitch: Ignore her. I’ll try to tame the beast before tomorrow afternoon.

Terry: Did Mitch just text you? I swear he did, but the message is gone.

Terry: Never mind, he finally admitted it. Give my girls kisses from me. Good night, darling!

Drew: Do I have to come tomorrow?

Shaking my head, I ignored the others and responded to Drew.

Me: You know the answer to that.

He replied instantly.

Drew: Just saying, seems kind of pointless. You guys got enough girly shit at Darcy’s baby shower. I’ll just be watching the game anyway.

He and his father both.

Me: Blame your mom. She organized it, not us.

Drew had gradually let his dad back in. It took some time and a lot more awkward yet amusing arguments over holidays and birthdays, but it happened. By the time he’d left for college, Pippa and I even got the sense that Drew wished he’d planned to stay closer to home.

A theory proven correct when he returned and began his sophomore year at Willmore Creek.

Finally, I got to the last message. The one I saved for last.

Pip-squeak: Miss you.

Me: Miss you more than words can describe. I’ll be home soon.

Smiling, I put my phone in my tote, the car in gear, and backed out, beginning the two-hour drive home.

I didn’t necessarily love the travel. Not without Pippa. But since Darcy arrived sixteen months ago, traveling alone was something I’d sadly gotten used to. It did make one thing clear, though. There really was no place, no person, like the one you called home.

The years had been good to us even when they’d been bad. Ups and downs had come our way, the downs weighing on us heavily, trying to drag us under. But we clung to each other, and Pippa stayed by my side through it all.

And I made sure I worked hard to be the very best version of myself that I could, knowing that not only Pippa deserved that, but I deserved it too.

Yawning, I pulled into the driveway of our four-bedroom loft, which sat on the outskirts of town and backed onto a large reserve. The lights were off, but that was to be expected after one in the morning.

As quiet as possible, I hauled my shit into the entryway and locked the door behind me.

Pulling out a clean pair of briefs from my bag, I stalked to the bathroom and took a quick shower. Once done, I went to check on my baby girl. Darcy’s door was open, though, so I knew she wasn’t in there.

Walking into our room, I smiled at the sight of Darcy sprawled out like a starfish on my side of the bed, sound asleep.

Pippa, however, was wide-awake.

She’d left the lamp on the lowest setting, and my stomach tightened at her mussed hair and swollen belly.

“Hi,” she whispered.

“Hey. Darcy keep you up?”

Her tired eyes blinked up at me as I stepped closer, tucking some hair behind her ear. “No, just waiting for you.”

My smile stayed as I carefully rounded the bed to smooth my fingers over Darcy’s velvety dark brown curls.

“How was it?” Pippa asked.

After bending and pressing a light kiss to Darcy’s forehead, I glanced over at Pippa, whispering, “Awesome. Haze hasn’t changed much.”

A touch of a smile tilted her lips before she murmured, “Come here.”

At night, when I was away, she sometimes struggled with her fears. Knowing her dad and I were at the root of those fears, I didn’t press the issue. I simply made sure I came home and answered any of her calls and texts. Which had lessened over the past few months. But waiting up when she and Darcy couldn’t travel with me was the one thing she hadn’t been able to fully let go of.

Call me a dick, but I liked having her awake when I got home. The reassurance she loved me that much, possibly as much as I loved her, and she wasn’t afraid to show it.

Pippa opened the duvet, nestling her head against the side of my chest when I laid down.

Her hand smoothed over my stomach, and I lifted it to my mouth, her wedding ring glittering under the soft light from the lamp as I kissed it.

“Read to me?” she asked.

Staring down at her, her seven-month pregnant stomach resting against mine, and with Darcy’s light breaths sailing through the room, I couldn’t think of anything else in the world that felt better than this.

Opening the worn, dog-eared, coffee, tea, and food stained copy of The Disappearance of Susie Westmore, I continued from where we’d last closed the book.

“…. the world could be a scary, dangerous place. Though it was our minds who were often to blame. Yes, the mind could be the most dangerous foe of all. A foe that went unnoticed, unsuspected, and therefore became a repeat offender. If only people realized that, then perhaps, none of this would have happened. Even after all that had occurred, Susie knew she was just in her convictions. No one killed for sport, and no one did bad things just because they woke up one day and felt like it.”

Pippa’s arm was limp over my stomach, and a glance down told me that she’d already fallen asleep.

Setting the book on the nightstand, I read on, whispering the words I knew by heart as I stroked my finger over the curve of her cheek.

“Susie used to think that monsters lurked in alleyways, under beds, or dwelled deep beneath city drains. Little did she know, monsters weren’t always physical beings. Sometimes, they were merely shadows that went untouched by a true source of light.”

The End.

Help can be hard to ask for, but easy to find.

www.beyondblue.org.au

thebutterflyfoundation.org.au

www.sane.org

www.mentalhealthamerica.net

www.7cups.com

www.anxietycentre.com

au.reachout.com

depression.org.nz

www.calmclinic.com

www.mentalhealth.org.uk

www.mind.org.uk

cmha.ca/mental-health

www.mentalhealthcanada.com

Have you read Daisy and Quinn’s story? Keep swiping for an excerpt from Suddenly Forbidden.

Seven years old

The grass whipped at my ankles, my lungs burned, and tears ran down my cheeks as I ran as fast as my legs would carry me into the field under the cover of a purple, darkening sky.

“Daisy!”

His voice penetrated my ears, but I didn’t stop. Couldn’t stop. That is, until a hidden ditch betrayed me and sent me tumbling to my butt.

Fudge nuggets.

Breathing heavily, I checked my ankle, then groaned, falling backward into the sea of dandelions as his nearing footsteps set the weeds swishing in a soft cadence that had my eyes closing.

I could feel the cool mud, thanks to this morning’s rain, seeping through my leggings and t-shirt. Even though Mama would spit fire at me, I couldn’t bring myself to sit up.

“There you are.” His footsteps stopped right next to my head. “Crap, I almost stepped on you.”

“Say it, don’t shout it, booger breath. Sheesh.” My eyes opened to find Quinn’s face blocking out the last hues of the sunset.

He laughed, then plonked to the ground, laying beside me. I kept my gaze facing upward, watching as night bled the last color of day from the sky, and a few stars started to twinkle into existence.

“What’s wrong?” Quinn asked after a minute. “Is it the rooster?”

I sniffed, wanting to lie, but I couldn’t. “Why’d your dad have to do that to him?”

“He says you can’t have too many roosters. Causes trouble among the flock.” He sighed. “Whatever that means.”

“Yeah, but I could’ve taken him home.”

Quinn laughed again, and I couldn’t help but smile at the sound. “What? And have it join Frederick? Your mama is already not on good terms with him.”

Quinn’s dad reluctantly let me rescue Frederick, the rooster, a few months earlier. He wasn’t exactly friendly or the cuddliest pet, but Mama took one look at the squirming chicken in my arms and my pleading, wet eyes, and said we could keep him until she found it a home. Turns out, no one really needed another rooster in our small town.

Good for me and Fred. Bad for Mama.

Fingers brushed against mine in the grass. I turned my head as Quinn’s warm hand wrapped around my own. “Your mama’s going to be mad you got all muddy when you didn’t need to,” I blurted out.

Quinn just smiled, displaying teeth too big for his eight-year-old face. And still, I thought he was the most handsome boy in all of Clarelle. Even when he pulled my ponytail too tight or thought it was funny to make mud pies and throw them at me. “She won’t care when I explain.”

“She’ll think I’m a crybaby one of these days.” The thought made my heart drop. But I couldn’t help it; I just saw another rooster run around without its head.

I just knew I would have another nightmare when I fell asleep.

“She’d never think that. She’ll call me smitten again and give me that weird look.”

My lips twisted to the side, and I watched his long lashes flutter as he kept his eyes steadfast on mine. “What’s smitten mean?”

He seemed to think about it for a moment, before shrugging slightly. “Heck if I know. Probably that I’m doing something silly again.”

“Did …” I swallowed thickly. “Did the rooster die?”

His light brows furrowed. “Yeah, Dais. It’s dead.”

Wetness trailed down the side of my cheek, escaping into my messy blond hair.

“Don’t cry.” Quinn’s face crumpled, and he squeezed my hand. “Hey, maybe we can bury him?”

Sniffling, I asked, “Really? How?”

He smiled and let go of my hand, getting up before grabbing it again to help me to my feet. “Come on, I’ll show you.”

We raced each other back to the barn, the sky now blanketed in black, and heard Quinn’s mom calling him from the porch of their big ranch-style home.

He hollered, “Two minutes, Mama!”

Grabbing the kid-size shovel from the set he’d gotten last Christmas, he led me over to the willow tree in the back field where our favorite tire swing swung gently in the breeze.

Sitting down, I watched as Quinn struggled to dig, then decided to help him.

I got on my hands and knees, digging at the dirt with my hands until we had a shallow hole that just might be big enough for the poor rooster.

Sitting on the tire swing, I watched as he raced back to the barn, listening to the sound of the crickets chirping while the cool air washed over my flushed cheeks.

He returned five minutes later, telling me to close my eyes. I did, knowing what he was about to pull from the sack in his hands. I heard the dead rooster tumble to the dirt with a thud.

“Okay, want me to cover him up?”

Nodding, I opened my eyes but kept them averted while he shoveled the dirt into the hole we’d dug. When he’d finished, I quickly collected some rocks from the nearby creek and placed them in the shape of a star on top of the dirt mound.

“Why a star?” Quinn asked.

“So he’s not alone. He can play with the other roosters and chickens in the sky in his dreams.”

Quinn was looking at me funny when I stood, brushing the dirt from my hands onto my pants.

“What?” I asked absently and started walking back to his house.

“I’m gonna marry you someday, Daisy June.”

My breathing stopped at the same time my feet did.

Spinning around, I stuck my hands on my hips and planted a smirk on my face, hoping it hid the weird feeling bubbling in my tummy. “Really?”

He nodded, grinning like he did when he acted like he knew everything. “Yep. One day, after we get done with college and I take over this farm, you’ll be my wife.” He stepped closer, and my heart started beating scary fast. “And I’ll make sure you never have to see another rooster get its head chopped off again.”

Grabbing my hand, he leaned down, and I felt the warm brush of his lips on my sticky cheek.

He didn’t say anything else, and neither did I. We trudged back through the weeds with grins on our faces and the stars glowing behind us like a smiling audience.

I didn’t realize what had happened at the time. Why I felt like I could hear my heart echoing in my ears, or why I couldn’t stop smiling for days afterward.

Looking back, I realized that was the first time Quinn Burnell stole a huge chunk of my heart.

Present

Unpacking my comforter from one of the last boxes, I tried not to roll my eyes.

“Mom, you seriously left like an hour ago. I’m fine.”

She made a whining noise in my ear. “Oh, I’m sorry.” Sniffling, she murmured, “You’re just going to be so far away. I thought I could handle it … and, oh hell. Just let me wallow and worry for a little longer, okay? I need it.”

I wedged my phone between my ear and shoulder, tucking the last corner of the fitted sheet over the single mattress. “Okay,” I said, resigned. “I can allow it for another minute or two, I suppose.”

She sputtered out a laugh. “Don’t give me sass. Eighteen or not, I’ll make your daddy turn this car around, young lady.”

My dad said something to her in the background, and she sighed. “Okay, your dad says I’m being clingy, and that if I want you to still answer my calls, I need to ease up.”

I laughed then, grabbing my comforter and dragging it over the bed. “I love you, Mom, and if I miss your calls, I will call you back. Okay?”

She heaved out a loud, labored breath. “Okay.” She paused a second. “I love you, honey.”

“Behave!” my dad hollered. “Stay away from any alcohol you don’t pour yourself. Better yet, just stay in your dorm. If you party, you’ll fail. You don’t want to fail, do you?”

“Joseph,” Mom scolded. “Okay, we’re going. We love you!”

Smiling, I said, “Love you, too. I’ll call you soon.”

After hanging up and dumping my phone on the old beechwood nightstand, I grabbed my pillows and tossed them to the head of the bed before taking a step back to survey my new digs.

Not bad. Not great either, but I knew not to expect too much the minute I’d walked into the tall, brown brick building. I’d done my research online. No, more like obsessed. If I somehow managed to get lost after all the hours I spent squinting at maps, buildings, forums, and streets, then I figured I deserved it.

Gray Springs University. Finally.

Grinning, I glanced at the painted brick walls of the small room. They’d make it hard to hang much of anything on, let alone my art. But I’d sure try.

I’d just flattened the empty boxes and was putting them in the top of the wardrobe next to my old sketchpads and portfolios when the door opened.

“Mom, shit.” A girl with mousy brown hair stumbled in behind a small, robust woman. “You should’ve …” The girl glanced at me, wincing. “Knocked.”

“Hi,” I said, closing the doors to the wardrobe and tucking my hands in front of me. “You must be my roommate?”

“Pippa, the walls are bricks! How on earth will you stay warm in winter?” The woman clucked her tongue and glanced from the empty single bed to my freshly made one, realizing then they weren’t alone. “Oh,” she squeaked, her hand flying to her ample chest and a beautiful smile lighting up her softly lined face. “Sorry, I’m Terry, Pippa’s mom.”

She moved to shake my hand, and I slowly unfolded mine to let her.

The girl—Pippa, I was guessing—groaned. “I’m so sorry.”

I took my hand back, and Terry glanced at her daughter, her dark brows crinkling and her hands going to her hips. “Don’t be embarrassed, Pip. I’m just …” She stepped farther into the room, her nose scrunching as she ran a finger over the dust that lined the nightstand next to the other bed. “Worried.”

“Well,” Pippa said, “less worrying and more unloading, yeah?” She smiled at me. “What an introduction. What’s your name?”

“Daisy. I, uh, got here a few hours ago.”

She looked around. “Wow. You don’t waste any time.”

No, I thought to myself. I’d lost enough time. “Excited, I guess.” I swung my hands a little, then my eyes fell on the radiator. “There’s heating.” I pointed at it as Terry kept scanning the room and muttering under her breath. “My mom was worried, too.”

Terry stopped her fussing and glanced at the radiator. Walking over to check it, she smiled. “Good, good. Okay.” She clapped her hands. “Why don’t we all go grab coffee?”

I stood frozen, my eyes ping-ponging back and forth between Terry and Pippa.

“Mom, class starts in a few days. I need to get unpacked and organized.”

Terry’s lips twisted in thought, her eyes lighting up when they landed on me. “Daisy? We should get to know each other.”

“Mom!” Pippa practically growled, and I suddenly realized I had it pretty easy with my stage-three clinger of a mom. “Please. Let’s go grab my stuff.”

“Okay, okay.” She sighed.

“Can I give you a hand?” I asked, not wanting to stand around while they battled the three flights of stairs.

They both sent me grateful looks, and we spent the next twenty minutes lugging three suitcases, ten boxes, and three backpacks from their small SUV to our dorm room upstairs.

“That desk clerk doesn’t appear to be very lively,” Terry murmured as we made the last trip past the front desk.

She didn’t. She had her chin on her hand and her eyes glued to a magazine, only moving to lick a finger and turn the page.

“I’m sure she’s fine,” Pippa muttered breathlessly, dragging the last suitcase behind her.

I placed the box I was holding on the floor by her bed and dusted my hands off on my dress. I needed a shower and cringed, remembering I had to now share a bathroom with other girls.

That could be interesting.

Pippa’s mom got to work, unpacking sheets and making the bed, folding clothes and putting them in drawers, and hanging the rest in the wardrobe. I was getting tired just watching her fast, efficient movements. She made it look easy with a smile on her face and purpose filling her every step.

Turning to me, Pippa whispered, “Wanna get out of here?” I glanced at her mom from my perch on my bed, uncertain. “She won’t know, trust me. I’ve got at least thirty minutes until she’s done.”

Shrugging, I followed her out of our dorm room, grabbing my keys hanging from the door, just in case.

The early September sunshine was beautiful, and being this close to my hometown had me breathing in nostalgia and exhaling excitement.

“Where’re you from?” I asked as we skirted around a shirtless guy who was carrying a mattress on his head from a tall building a few doors down from ours. Pippa dragged her wide eyes from the guy’s bare chest and looked at me. “Willowmina.”

“Close by, then. What’s that? Around three hours north?”

She nodded and asked, “You?”

“Originally, Clarelle. Moved to Watson a few years ago.”

“You wanted to be closer to Clarelle?”

“Something like that.” I lifted a shoulder, my chest filling with bubbles of nerves and hope. Swallowing them down, I felt them curdle back to life in my stomach when we approached a group of guys on the sidewalk tossing a football back and forth. Talking, laughing.

My eyes widened, desperately seeking the one thing they’d been craving to gaze upon for two years. Realizing I’d been staring, I finally blinked as we passed them, whistles and catcalls following our slow gait.

Where are you?

“Must be one of the boys’ dorms,” Pippa surmised, glancing over her shoulder briefly. Pulling a tin of mints from her pocket, she popped the lid and held it out to me. “Breath mint?”

“I’m good, thanks.”

With a tilt of her shoulder, she chucked a couple in her mouth. “It’s a little weird, I know.” She tucked the tin away. “But I like to hold them under my tongue. I’m addicted to the burn.”

“So you like sour stuff?”

Her button nose wrinkled. “Blegh, no.”

“Oh, okay.”

We walked for another five minutes until we reached the outskirts of the university, crossing the street to find a string of shops. Despite not talking much and not really knowing Pippa, I felt comfortable.

I didn’t know what I expected to see days before classes started. Perhaps a frenzy of students everywhere. There were plenty of them, but Gray Springs was a relatively small university, compared to most, with a big focus on the football team, the Tomahawks. I assumed most people had arrived earlier than we did.

Pippa paused outside an ice-cream parlor that had a help wanted sign in the window. “Do you mind if I run in and grab an application?”

The wind knocked some hair free from my bun; tendrils tickled my lips and cheeks before I shoved them back. I gazed through the glass window. “Not at all. I’ll wait over here.”

Sitting down on a block of sandstone surrounding a garden bed, I watched Pippa through the windows as she walked to the bright bubblegum pink counter and spoke to a man who was wearing a cute old-school hat.

The sun was changing color as afternoon dawdled toward early evening. My hands clenched at the skirt of my dress, itching to recreate the color of the golden orange light dancing over the large brick buildings. Flowers littered the stunning greenery of the gardens in almost every color. I made a mental note to do that before classes started and fall slowly leeched the campus of its vibrancy as winter approached.

A giggling girl walked by, dragging her boyfriend behind her. With my chest twinging, I drew in a long breath and slowly let it out.

What if, after all this time, he’d decided not to come here?

It felt so serendipitous to simply show up. As if it was where we were always meant to reconnect and continue our path into the future. Together.

I was a little naïve—always had been—and full of ridiculous notions and far too much trust.

But it was Quinn. If there was anyone I could put my faith into, could leave my heart with for so long, it was him.

Always him.

“Sorry,” Pippa said, stepping outside. “But he said he could probably give me some part-time hours. I just need to recheck my class schedule.”

I stood, smiling at this girl who wasn’t a friend yet but not entirely a stranger either. “Well, that worked out well. Who doesn’t like ice cream?”

“Right?” She clapped her hands, almost ripping her application. “Shit, whoops.”

Laughing, I turned back toward campus. “Your thirty minutes are probably almost up.”

“Oh, yeah.”

We returned to the dorm, where Pippa shared the news of the ice-cream parlor job with her mom, who then insisted on taking us out to dinner before she left.

“I’m good, but thank you,” I said. “I had a big lunch.” It was true, and I didn’t want to intrude on the little time Pippa had left to spend with her mom for what could be months. Plus, I knew I’d feel awkward, not knowing them very well and all. I also needed time to let it settle in. This new place, my feelings, and the racing of my heart whenever I thought too far ahead.

There was nothing I could do. Short of stalking him down at the registrar’s office, if I was even allowed to do that, I’d just have to wait. Besides, my sappy heart had me thinking it would be more romantic to see each other again by chance encounter.

If attending the same college we’d always planned to could even be considered something as simple as chance.

Grabbing my sketchpad, I opened the sheer white threadbare curtain over the window next to my bed. Gazing outside, I drew as the light from the sky drained and the streetlamps lit the sidewalk in puddles of yellow.

After braving the showers and feeling relief at the ample amount of privacy, even if it was still kind of weird, I’d returned to my bed by the time Pippa walked in.

“Oh, Jesus. I thought she’d never leave.” She toed off her ballet flats and locked the door behind her.

I sat up, closing my sketchpad and turning off the music on my phone. “Did she try to take you with her?”

She laughed, plonking face down onto her freshly made bed and propping herself up on an elbow to look at me. “Almost.” Her smile turned sad after a few seconds. “Does it make me a wimp? If I already …”

“Miss her?” I shook my head. “No, it makes you a daughter who loves her mom.”

She stared at me for a moment. “You and me, we’re going to be friends.”

“Yeah?” I tucked my legs underneath me.

“Yep,” she said, popping the p. “I thought I’d get stuck with some horrible roommate, you know, like you hear about and see in the movies.”

“Me too,” I admitted.

“There’s still time.” She raised a sleek brown brow.

Laughing, I nodded. “I‘m not a neat freak. I’m clean, but I like a little clutter.”

Pippa scrunched her nose. “Ugh, no.”

“I’ve also been told I snore if I didn’t get enough sleep the night before.”

She grinned. “I’ll smother you with a pillow.”

“You might kill me.”

She flopped onto her back. “I’ll do it just right.”

We both laughed, and I laid back down, staring at the popcorn ceiling.

“I sometimes talk in my sleep,” Pippa said a minute later.

“I’m a deep sleeper.”

“I’m a neat freak. I’ll probably clean up your stuff, and you’ll wonder where it is.”

“That could be problematic, depending on what it is.”

She hummed. “I also like to do crosswords and word searches in pencil. I’ll steal any pencil I see lying around.”

That made me gasp. “Oh, nuh-uh.” I opened my nightstand drawer, pencils and brushes rolling around inside it. “These cost a fortune. Paws off, lady.”

Giggling, she asked, “Art major?”

“How’d you guess?” I asked dryly, closing the drawer and lying down again.

“Besides the pencils and the sketchpad, you’ve just got a vibe.”

Vibe? “Can you read people or something?”

“My grandmother liked to dabble in fortune-telling and whatnot. She was a weird lady.” She picked at her cuticles. “Said you could tell a lot about a person by watching their mannerisms. The way they hold themselves. Fidgeting, posture, stuff like that.”

“Interesting.”

“Favorite movie?” she asked.

“The Lion King. You?”

“Oh, Simba is badass. Umm, Anchorman.”

“Good choice. So, what made you choose Gray Springs?”

“Besides the partial scholarship?” She paused. “Would you believe me if I said it felt right? Looking at the pamphlets, the pictures, I just felt it. Right there is where I need to go.”

“I believe you.”

Quiet filled the small room for a minute. “No friends, new people. It seems crazy.”

“Totally crazy,” I agreed, my pulse kicking.

“You don’t know anyone either?”

I rolled over onto my side, mulling over how much I could tell this new friend of mine. I decided to let the truth fall off my tongue to see how it tasted and sounded. I wondered if it’d sound crazy to someone else. “Maybe, I know someone. A guy.”

She rolled over to face me then; her green eyes alight with interest. “Go on …”

“He, well, he’s my best friend. Was, is, I don’t know. We grew up together; it’s the classic tale of childhood friends evolving into first love. We’d planned to come here together after high school.”

“Then you moved away?”

“Then I moved away.” I let the sinking pit in my gut tremble for a moment, then puffed out a sigh. “I haven’t seen him since. It was left so unfinished, but I just couldn’t do it.”

Pippa adjusted her blue pillow under her cheek. “Do what?”

“The long-distance thing. It was killing me. It felt like …” She waited while I tried to find words adequate enough to describe it. “Like every time we spoke, the distance between us could be felt, and we were slipping even further away from each other. Eventually, my parents took my phone from me, and when I got it back and switched it on, I discovered he’d hardly tried to contact me at all.”

She winced. “Ouch, that’s pretty brutal. What did you do?”

“I got angry. I didn’t want us to end, to just fade away by loss of interest and distance. I changed my number and decided that if I was so easy to forget about, I’d make it harder for him to find me when he finally felt like it. It didn’t take long for me to regret it, though.”

Sympathy leeched from Pippa’s creamy face, the softness in her eyes, and I absorbed it, choking up a little as I remembered those dark days. “It was changing me. I was … I don’t get too sad or down. That’s not me. But I didn’t know what was happening to me. So I agreed with my parents, with my friend Alexis back home who I still spoke to sometimes, and cut him loose.”

“And what, you think he still decided to attend college here?”

That was the terrifying part. What if he didn’t? Then he didn’t. I’d have to get over it once and for all. I couldn’t believe that, though. “We made a promise. And I promised myself that if I crawled out of my funk and remained the girl he once said he loved, then it’d be okay.” I laughed humorlessly. “Sounds so cheesy and dumb, doesn’t it? Who does that?”

Voices traveled out in the hall, doors slamming as we both absorbed the quiet notes of uncertainty that lay ahead. New lives, new beginnings, and a chance to rekindle old flames or find new ones.

“A brave girl who gave her heart away to someone she felt worthy of it. That’s who does it,” Pippa finally said.

A tear snaked its way down my cheek as I smiled at her and repeated her earlier words. “You and me, we’re going to be friends.”

Available Now

Suddenly Forbidden

Ella Fields is a mother and wife who lives in Australia.

While her kids are in school, you might find her talking about her characters and books to her cat. She’s a notorious chocolate and notebook hoarder who enjoys creating hard-won happily ever afters.

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My husband. Always.

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