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“But you think you might have an idea?”
“I could gather up a few ideas. Ethan being one.”
“He doesn’t know where I live. We only met at the coffee shop.”
“Doesn’t mean he couldn't follow you.”
I close my eyes. How had I not thought of that? It should have been the first thing that popped into my mind.
“It’s going to be okay.” Vargas’s hands come to my cheeks, making my eyes flutter back open. “I won’t let anyone touch a hair on your head.”
“It’s not going to be okay. He’s going to make me move home. Once my dad finds out about the dating app and the door, it’s over for me.” Sassy wiggles between us.
“You really think he would make you move home? You’re an adult.”
“Yes.” I place Sassy on the bed. “He's been super protective since the accident.”
“Accident?”
It’s not something I talk about. My dad gets uneasy when I bring it up, so I stopped. “When I was ten.” I push my hair back to show a cut.
“What happened?” Vargas reaches out to touch the scar that I keep hidden with my hair.
“They said it was a car accident.”
“You don’t remember?”
I shake my head. “I don’t remember anything before it.” His hand drops. “Nothing. They said my memories might come back, but it’s been over a decade and nothin’.”
“Pack a bag. You’ll stay with me. For now, your father doesn’t need to know.”
“Really?” I don’t know why I ask because I know he means it.
“I want to make a few calls. Get whatever you and Sassy need.”
I fight to hide my excitement. My apartment was broken into. I should be freaking out, but all I can really freak out about is that I’m staying over at a boy’s house for the first time.
“Pack,” Vargas orders.
Scratch that. Not a boy… a man.
9
VARGAS
“This will be your room.” I show her into the bedroom adjoining mine, its windows thrown open to let in the light.
After I called ahead, Mrs. Palacios was more than happy to prepare a room, going so far as to say it was “about time” I had someone stay. She’s been part of my household for as long as I can remember, and she’s equally as nosy.
“This is bigger than my entire apartment.” Cadence looks around, her eyes wide. “It’s so nice.”
“It’s yours. Make yourself comfortable. Closet there”—I point—“en suite through those doors.”
“Okay.” She walks in a few steps, her eyes darting to the bed. “Where’s, um, your room?”
“I’m right next door. Nothing to worry about.” I don’t want her afraid, not of me or anyone in this house. It’s not a matter of calculation on my part, though that’s where my head should be at; it’s more that I want her to be comfortable … to feelsafewith me.
“You really didn’t have to do this. It’s so nice of you. You’re … You’re nothing like my father said.” She turns to me, her gaze warm and somehow hopeful.
