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I shake my head and blink until my vision clears. "Not really. Nothing personal…"

"It's okay. I mean, we haven't seen each other in years."

"Decades."

We'veseeneach other. But we haven't been close since we were fourteen.

We're picking right back up where we left off, though, it seems, only with a lot more touching. A lot more of him running out into a storm to rescue me and dragging me home to this old house he shares with four other guys…

Okay, so my pre-teen fantasies didn't include much of that. But I'm going with it.

I sigh and lean into him. "Maybe some other time?"

"Only if you want to." He leans in to kiss the top of my head, and I just about swoon.

Only then he's stopping. Letting go, he pushes open a door, revealing a small room with a twin bed on a metal frame.

"I know it's not much," he hedges.

I step forward and move to sit on the edge of the bed. For all that the frame isn't much to look at, the thing is sturdy. The mattress hits that sweet spot between firm and soft, and the cozy down comforter spread across it begs me to burrow.

"It's fine. A hell of a lot better than my grandma's house."

Oops. I didn't mean to let that part slip out. I'm still planning to leave tomorrow. I don't need Cayden getting any ideas that I'm not living in comfort over there.

He furrows his brow. "That place is falling down."

Ugh, maybe I'm not giving him any ideas because he already knows.

"It's not so bad…"

"It is, and you know it."

"It just needs a little work."

"More work than you can put in by yourself."

"Hey. I'm handier than I look."

He shakes his head. "More work than anyone could put in by themselves. Look—I'm not Jax. I'm not doubting your capability."

"Then what are you doubting?"

His jaw flexes, and he reaches up, running a hand through his sandy hair. Finally, he lands on, "If you really need to live like that while you're fixing it up. If you're too stubborn to accept an offer of help."

Oh. So that's where we're going with this. "You don't have to—"

"I know I don't. But I liked Miriam." His throat bobs. "I like you. I'd like to help the both of you out, if you'll let me."

His just saying my grandmother's name makes the fatigue in my bones grow. I sigh and worry the strap of my bag between my fingers. "Look. Can we talk about it tomorrow?"

To his credit, he backs off immediately. "Of course."

"I just—"

"Like I said. You don't have to explain."

It's like a weight lifting off my chest. "Thank you."