“I’m just trying to make you comfortable.” He had a strange expression on his face, almost sullen.

“Your bed is a thousand times more comfy than my bed at Andrews, and even my bed at home. And neither of them smells like you.”

Jared fidgeted before speaking. “So…why is it that you’re so against staying here? Is it me?”

My eyebrows immediately pulled in, hurt that he would ever come to that conclusion. “No! I’m not against staying here. I love staying here. I just need to go back to Andrews.”

Jared raised an eyebrow. “And why is that? I thought staying alive would be a good enough reason for you to want to stay here with me. You didn’t mind when I needed to dress your hand every night.”

“It’s not about that. It’s about being forced into hiding, it’s about my friends, and it’s about keeping some degree of normalcy in my life. I know you want me here where you know that I’m safe,” I explained, resting my hand on his leg.

“Not just to keep you safe. I just want you here,” he said, tenderly tracing my jaw line with his fingertip.

I smiled at his words, my jaw radiating with the heat from his touch. “We have plenty of time for that, right?”

Jared’s eyes immediately clouded over and I finally understood the urgency. He wanted to spend every second of the time we had left together. I looked away from him; I had to have faith that we would make it through this. My eyes felt heavy and I turned onto my side, pressing my cheek into my pillow.

“I have faith in you, Jared. More than you have in yourself. I’m not afraid,” I said, closing my eyes.

The door slammed and I jerked, looking around the room. It was morning.

“Can you close the door like a normal person?” Jared snapped.

“This is a terrible idea, Jared. Maybe the worst one you’ve had, yet,” Claire complained. Small footsteps stomped up the stairs. “You have to talk him out of this, Nina. He won’t listen to me. Not in the mood he’s in.”

“Stay out of it, Claire,” Jared said from downstairs.

Claire made a face and then jumped from the railing, landing on her feet. “I can’t stay out of it, because you keep making it my business!” she hissed.

I quickly dressed and met them downstairs. Jared was dressed in a buttoned-down shirt and slacks, holding a motorcycle helmet. He shoved it toward me without a word.

“What’s this?” I asked, staring at the helmet.

“I think better on my bike,” Jared said.

I looked up at him. “What’s going on?”

His expression didn’t change. “Are you coming or not?”