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I shoot him a scolding expression.

Rubbing the back of his neck, he defends himself. “I haven’t gotten around to that one yet.”

“Or any of them,” I tease as I wave my arms around to the boxes stacked in every corner.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” He jabs me playfully in the ribs as I scurry into the bathroom with a towel under my arm.

Under the water of the shower, I can’t stop the reeling in my mind. The events of the night are replaying in my head frame by frame. Alexander holding me while I cried, the reassurance I so desperately craved. And even before all of that…the moment in the pool house when he admitted to wanting me. He’s so convinced that he would be terrible for me, but I only want to convince him that I’m not afraid of him. I don’t worry about what he’s done in the past.

The intensity in his eyes brings my excitement back down. Alex has done nothing but beat himself up since he moved in and my pushing him won’t do him any favors. And now I’ve basically moved in…

This is a mistake. Isn't it?

By the time I come back out, holding a towel wrapped around my body, there’s a folded pile of clothes waiting for me on the floor. Picking them up, I find a pair of basketball shorts and a T-shirt. The shorts hang off my hips, but I can roll them about four times to keep them up. It’s enough to get me to my house to pack my things.

The thought of going back sends a cold chill down my spine. It’s not that I don’t want to face my mother. It’s that I don’t know if I can. If I had my phone, I’d text Cadence, but I dropped everything on the floor when my mother slapped me and literally came here with nothing. And I have to tell my sister where I’ll be for a few days.

When I come out in Alex’s clothes, he’s waiting by the back door.

“I have to get some things…” I say quietly.

“I know. I’ll go with you.”

A smile fights against my lips as I try to bite it down. The proud look in his shoulders as he stands there, arms crossed, willing to protect me, has me feeling all warm inside.

My hands won’t stop shaking as I cross the lawn and spot movement inside. It’s not a confrontation I'm worried about. I’m worried Alex will see that nothing will happen at all. That no one will apologize or ask about me or care at all.

When we walk through the back patio, my mom is sitting at the dining room table, her face in her hands, hovering over her cup of coffee. I feel myself magnetized to Alex’s side. When my mom looks up, I see the swelling under her eyes, proof that she’s been crying.

“Jesus, Sunny,” she croaks as she stands up. “We were worried sick about you.”

I keep my mouth shut as I walk past her and rush up the stairs to my room. There’s no possible way they were worried about me. She knew exactly where I went and even if I did hitchhike across the country instead of running to Alex’s house, why would she be worried after she clocked me in the middle of the hallway?

I gather my phone and charger in a scurry, shoving clothes into a bag. I can come back for more. Plus, I don’t know how long I’ll be staying anyway. My sister’s door stays shut while I hurry, and just when I reach the bottom landing, I catch sight of Alex crowding my mother in the corner of the kitchen. When he pulls away, she’s crying even harder, and I freeze.

My eyes trail to his face, but he avoids my stare as he approaches me and walks with me out the door. I don’t spare my mother one glance as I leave. And I don’t ask him what he said to her. I don’t need to know, but I can imagine it wasn’t very pretty.

Pride swells in my chest at the thought. Other than Cadence, no one has ever really stood up for me before.

When we get back to the house, I keep Alexander’s clothes on as he makes lunch. Sitting on the barstool, I look around at the boxes.

“You could have moved into a smaller house,” I tease him.

He sends me a twisted smirk as he drops a grilled cheese on the counter in front of me. “I thought I wanted space. I had an apartment in the city, and I just envisioned something to grow into.”

“Like a goldfish,” I say through a bite of my sandwich.

“Excuse me?” He laughs.

“You haven’t heard of the goldfish theory?”

He shakes his head slowly with a crooked brow. “Explain, rain cloud.”

I stand and walk to the fridge for a bottle of water I know he stocks there. “There’s a theory that a goldfish will grow as big as his fishbowl. So, a fish in a big bowl will be huge, but a fish in a small tank doesn’t grow and dies.”

Taking a long gulp of my water, I watch Alexander’s expression fall. “Are you saying I’m going to get fat?”

A laugh bursts from my lips. “No. I just think…you have more room in your life now. For…people.”