I stop walking.
A surprised laugh slips out of me.It hurts my split lip, but I don’t care.
I’m in love with Cooper.Completely.
The certainty of that hits me hard.I know I need to tell him as soon as he’s back home.
My pace picks up, and I hurry down the path toward home.By the time I reach Cooper’s house, my legs are shaking.I let myself inside and lock the door behind me.
The silence hits hard.
For a second, I stand there with my back against the door, listening to my breathing.Cooper’s house smells like him.Pine and soap and something warm that has become a comfort to me.
I’m safe.
I repeat it in my head until my body starts to believe it.
I’m safe.I’m home.
Then I look toward the stairs.All my things are still in the guest room, like I’m visiting.Like I might leave.
I push away from the door, a plan forming in my head.
Every muscle protests as I climb the stairs slowly and walk into the guest room.It looks untouched.Neat.Temporary.A place for someone who hasn’t decided where she belongs.
I have decided.
I grab my suitcase from the closet and set it on the bed.My hands shake as I pull clothes from hangers, but the shaking eases with each piece I fold.Shirts.Sweaters.Jeans.Pajamas.
Moving helps.Choosing helps.
I carry the first armful down the hall to Cooper’s room.
Our room.
The bed is unmade from this morning.The sight makes my throat tight.I remember waking beneath him, laughing as he tried to convince me patrol wasn’t important.I remember his kiss on the porch.His hands on my face.The way he said he couldn’t lose me.
I set my clothes on the dresser and open drawers until I find space.There isn’t much because Cooper apparently owns more black T-shirts than one man needs, but I make room.
Then I go back for more.
By the third trip, I’m crying again.Quietly this time.Not because I’m afraid, but because I’m exhausted and sore and overwhelmed.And for the first time in my life, I’m moving my things into a room with a man, and it doesn’t feel like a trap.
It feels like a promise.
I’m hanging my blue sweater in Cooper’s closet when the front door bangs open downstairs.
“Landry!”Cooper’s voice tears through the house, raw with panic.
I jump, dropping the hanger.
Heavy footsteps thunder up the stairs.
“Landry!”
“I’m here!”I call, but my voice cracks.
He appears in the doorway a second later, and I freeze when I see him.He’s covered in blood.Some of it is his.I know that because he has a fresh cut along his shoulder and another across his ribs, but most of it isn’t.It stains his skin, his jeans, his hands.His dark hair is a mess, his chest heaving, his green eyes wild.
