“You ever think of making L.A. your permanent home and spending five or six weeks in Milwaukee instead?” I miss subtle by the full length of an ocean.

“Too many fires and not enough snow.”

This is when we talk about us. Right? I’m giving him every opportunity, but nope. Is this it? Are we just two bodies keeping each other warm on cool nights in a tent? I can’t do this. Jake has seen me naked in every possible way. I have to stop here. No begging for more.

Stand the fuck up for yourself.

He finishes dinner while I play with Jord and Odin and keep my panicking sister at ease with “no news is good news” messages. We eat—it’s amazing. Then I do dishes, earning me another disbelieving brow raise.

“Meg just messaged me.”

I turn, holding my breath while drying my hands. Jake stands from his spot on the sofa with the two mammoth dogs.

“She asked us to feed Jord and Odin before going back to the clinic. And Swarley is awake and still stable.”

I exhale as my whole posture melts in relief.

“I’m sorry. Really.” He slides his hands in his jeans’ front pockets, pushing his shoulders up toward his ears. It makes him look vulnerable. “Deedy expected me to get you and Swarley safely home. I just should have…” he shakes his head “…taken you straight home. I could have stayed for a week or two and made my trip back to Milwaukee the one where I stopped to camp. I was just …”

I fiddle with the towel, twisting and tugging it, but it does little to settle my nerves. “Pissed off that you had to bring us along.”

He nods once, regret creasing his brow.

“And now things have changed.”

Another nod.

“And you don’t know what to do with me because we’re going to run out of places to go, and eventually we will need to be somewhere.”

His lips twist as he lets his gaze fall to his feet with one last tiny nod.

“Well …” A nervous laugh stumbles from my mouth. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe you should have taken us to L.A. as quickly as possible. Maybe we should have kept things less … messy.”

I’m scared.

I’m scared to say I don’t regret any of it. I’m scared to ask him if he’s ready for it to be over. I’m scared because I have nothing to offer.

My nonexistent life awaits my return. Still … this hurts. I like Jake for Jake.

His smile when he’s being playful.

His brooding need to protect me.

His sexy voice when he says “Ave.”

Every tattoo.

Every touch.

Every word that strips me to my very soul, that makes me question who I am and where I’m going in my life.

He holds out his phone. “Sydney’s calling.”