Dragging myself up, I headed back to my bedroom with him in tow. While I grabbed some clothes, he checked out the other room. Being in my room gave me the creeps, and I didn’t know if that was going to ever change.

I exhaled roughly, fighting the urge to cry.

Reece came out of my second bedroom, his face a shade or two paler. I stilled, my hand hovering over the strap on my overnight bag. “Did you find something?”

Reece blinked as he shook his head. “No. You almost ready?”

Slipping a long, thick sweater on that reached my knees, I grabbed my bag and slipped my feet into my flats. Not trusting myself to speak, I nodded.

Reece was silent as he led me out of the house and locked up. As I stepped off the porch, both upstairs apartments had lights on, and I told myself I needed to bake them cookies or something.

I got to sit in the passenger seat of a police cruiser—­which, surprisingly, smelled pleasant, like fresh apples—­and any other time, I’d have been excited about all the buttons and potential noise-­making power, but I stared out the window, into the darkness as dawn steadily crept into the horizon.

“You hanging in there?” Reece asked.

Glancing over at him, I was struck with the urge to reach out and smooth my fingers along his jaw. To touch him. For him to touch me. “Yeah. I’m okay.”

He sent me a sideways look that was a cross between amused and worried. “It’s all right not to be okay in a situation like this.”

I lowered my gaze to my hands, keeping my mouth shut.

We didn’t speak again as we drove to his place. He lived in a condo near Jax, a rather large apartment on the third floor. He let me in, and the crisp scent of laundry greeted me as I stepped inside.

Reece eased around me, flipping on the lights. I blinked against the brightness, wondering how exactly my night had ended up with me staying at Reece’s.

He had a wide foyer that led into a large galley kitchen and dining room. The living room was neat with an exception of a basket of laundry sitting on the coffee table.

Reece frowned as he saw it.

Walking over to the basket, he picked it up. “You know where the bed is, and if I remember correctly, you thought it was really comfortable, so make yourself at home.”

Surprise fluttered through me at the lack of rancor in his tone as he mentioned that night. I hadn’t moved very far, only placing my bag near the couch, by the time he reappeared in the living room. Amused, I watched him swipe up a bag of chips that was on the end table and take them to the trash in the kitchen.