She winces, tilting her head. “Are you really? Because,” she rushes on, “I’m not. I’m…” She exhales. “I’m not sorry at all.”

My chest squeezes and I feel like I can’t quite catch my breath. “You aren’t?”

“No. And I don’t think it was a mistake. Maybe not great timing, but I liked kissing you.” Her eyes shift to the door and back. She lowers her voice. “I’m not fragile, Cameron. You don’t have to keep protecting me. I can make my own choices. It’s not that I didn’t want you. I…” She straightens, standing taller, her eyes full of emotion. “I just didn’t want it to be like it was before. Sneaking around, led by our hormones. We’re adults. We have homes and beds and walls of our own. That’s what I meant.”

What little air I have in my lungs escapes, and I feel light-headed. My hands are tingling. I might be having a stroke. When I speak, my voice comes out strangled. “That’s what you meant?”

Suddenly there’s a tapping on the glass door. Steve is there, gesturing emphatically at his Apple watch. Shelby presses her lips together and holds up a finger before turning back to me.

“Yeah, Cam.” Her voice is soft. “That’s what I meant. Maybe our timing isn’t as bad as you think. Maybe”—her lips quirk and I’m taken off guard by her mischievous grin—“our communication is the problem. Stop running and let me catch you, and I can tell you all about it next time.”

And with that, she spins toward the house, leaving me gaping in her wake.

A little later, we’re in front of the camera, strolling room to room, taking our prospective audience with us. I talk through the kitchen renovations, picking up a mallet and not waiting a single second more before putting it through a cabinet and revealing the nesting mice inside. Shelby screams as they scatter, jumping up on the countertop in her Chucks, her short hair practically standing on end while I laugh so hard, I cry. Steve looks like he can’t tell if he wants to murder or kiss me. Daniel has to leave the house altogether.

A short while later, Shelby highlights the upstairs, her voice captivating and dreamy as she describes what will become of the nook. I share the plans for the addition and Steve prompts me about my choice to go the hard route with the renovation. I know what he’s angling for, and I give it to him, pulling Shelby to my side and explaining what the lady wants, the lady gets. After all, “I’ve never been able to tell her no.”

When the camera turns off, Shelby leans in and arches a brow. “Never?” Meaning is suffused into her words and I know she’s remembering five years ago in L.A.