Carli rolls her eyes. “I have clothes on,” she says, and raises her shirt to show some small drawstring shorts.

“Barely,” her mom replies.

“Really, Mom?” Carli whines, widening her eyes.

“Fine, I’m going out to put the Rover in the garage.”

“Okaaay,” Carli says in a way that sounds like, Why you telling me?

I’m so embarrassed I could disappear. Sad or not, that was rude as hell.

Her mom tilts her head, shifts her neck back, and gives Carli a look. I don’t need a mom to know that look. When a woman starts using neck action, shit is real.

“Sorry,” Carli says, and softens her eyes. “It’s just—”

“I know,” her mom interrupts, returning the soft look, and adds, “It’s okay,” before hitting the unlock button on a car key, tightening the blanket around herself, and dashing outside.

I scoop Carli up in my arms.

She hugs my neck and sighs, breath hot and sticky with hurt.

“It’s okay. Everything is going to be okay,” I say, holding her.

She sighs again and slides her long body down mine. “What are you doing here? How’d you even know where I live?”

But before I can come up with an answer, she gently takes my hand and leads me farther into the warm house with its old wooden floors and colorful rugs and clusters of sweet-smelling candles burning on every table. Past paintings and masks and maps and mirrors and framed photos hanging on white walls. Past the living room with its velvet burnt-orange sofa and floor-to-ceiling books on recessed shelves. (Man, I would kill to live in this house.) And down the hall to her room.

CARLI

I close the door to my room, lean back against it, and grab Rex’s hands—still cold. I bring him closer to me, rub my nose against the tip of his nose—even colder. Rub my left cheek against his, back and forth, until his warms.

“Damn, how long were you standing out there?” I say, and give him a kiss.

“A minute,” he says, “a long minute.”

“Sorry, I didn’t know you were coming. What are you even doing here?”

He’s looking around at my walls. “Well, Cole—”

“Oh my gosh. I’m so stupid. Of course it was Cole,” I say, feeling my upper lip hike up. If Cole thinks inviting Rex over tonight is about to make me peace out Mom, he has another thing coming.

“No, no. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. Tried calling and texting but hadn’t heard from you,” Rex says, and lowers the black hoodie off his head, his face holding space for everything good and sweet.

I kiss him again. Regardless of Cole’s motivation for inviting him over, Rex being here feels like a thick, cool layer of salve on tonight’s new wounds.