I can’t believe we slept together, wrapped up like a double helix.

I’ve never done that with anyone. If I had more time, maybe I could have enjoyed the sensation instead of getting tense and strange and anxious.

He was so warm. I’ve never felt breath on the back of my neck. Never had strong arms around me, like they wanted to be there. I wish I could have hung on to the moment a little bit longer—lord knows when I’ll have the opportunity again. Would it be weird to ask to cuddle?

Definitely weird. Especially since if I do get the chance again, I’ll probably just make it creepy.

I roll over and attempt to fall back asleep but the sheets smell like Fitz, deodorant, and fresh air. Homey and comfortable.

And now I’m definitely awake and not going back to sleep.

Might as well brave the rest of the house. I imagine it’s a mess after last night.

But once I’m up and out, I’m surprised to find that while there are a few errant cups and pig noses left behind, it’s mostly clean.

How does Jude do it?

Beast is in the kitchen. He hands me a mug full of hot coffee as soon as I enter.

“Y’all are magicians or something.” I take the cup from him. “Thank you.”

I move to the living room, sitting in the bay window, watching the birds chirp outside while I drink my coffee in the silence and let my thoughts tumble around.

Now that I’ve had a chance to talk to Fitz about Abby, I can see how hard it must have been for him to give her up, maybe not relationship-wise, but to lose a lifetime of friendship.

No wonder he kept her around for so long. Plus it seems Abby did her best to hide her true colors around Fitz. I’m surprised she got away with it as long as she did. Cheetahs can’t change their stripes—as Granny always says. The truth outs always, eventually.

His will to stick is admirable, but it also means he won’t give up on the room until the bitter end. My stomach sinks. One of us will have to leave when the games are over. It’s not going to be easy to beat Fitz, but I’m not gonna give up either.

While the house is still quiet, I call Granny.

“Yep,” she answers.

“Hey, it’s me.”

“Tootsie Roll, you comin’ over for supper?”

“It is Sunday. Why wouldn’t I be there?” I haven’t ever missed a Sunday supper at home. It’s tradition.

“I thought you might have a bee in your bonnet over the whole gun thing.”

“No. It’s fine. I might bring a friend too.” Annabel wanted to hang out later, but maybe I can get her to come to dinner.

“Well, that’s all right then. You bring as many friends as you like.”

We hang up and I get back to my coffee and thinking about my conversation with Fitz last night.