The house smelled like pine, thanks to the trio of overpowering scented candles on the mantelpiece. Memories accompanied the nostalgic fragrance: me, Chad, and Penny doubled over in laughter on the couch, watching C-list slasher flicks; Mom coming home late from her hostess job in Bar Harbor, but never too late to still spend time with me before bed. Our couch was imprinted with the memories of many midnight hot chocolates, Mom’s favorite drink, and her firm insistence that neither of us would go to bed until my homework was done.

The entry was small, and Levi and I bumped shoulders. A frisson of electricity went through my arm. I glanced at him from the corner of my eye, but he hadn’t seemed to notice.

A leather couch and two armchairs pointed toward the TV stand, and a laminated list of emergency numbers was underneath the remote. Painted driftwood from last summer’s art exhibition hung on the walls, and there were probably more oversize shells on our shelves than actual books. Mom really loved playing up the seaside cottage aesthetic.

“Wow, this is great. I like the look in here,” he said, glancing at the gigantic seashells and glossy photography books on the kitschy Americana center table.

I gave him a walk-through, explaining which knobs to fiddle with on our ancient washing machine, and pointing out the closest grocery store from the second-floor hallway window. He seemed especially impressed with the view of the beach from the master bedroom.

“So,” I said once we were back downstairs, “there’s milk and eggs in the fridge, bread on the counter, and some menus on the dining table if you want to eat out. There’s also stuff for coffee and tea in the cupboards, and you can just help yourself to anything else you find in here.”

“Thank you,” said Levi, ducking his head into the kitchen for a quick glance. “That’s really nice. I wasn’t expecting a welcome package.”

There was no reason for me to linger, and yet my feet were stuck to the floor. I searched my mind for something—anything—to say that would keep the conversation going, but what came out was: “So, art, huh?”

Oh my God, did I just—

Levi’s lips twitched like he was fighting back a grin. “Art,” he replied gravely.

“Cool.” I swallowed, feeling my cheeks warm. “So, uh, my phone number is on the contact list next to the TV. If you have any questions, feel free to call. I hope you have a pleasant stay.”

“I’m sure I will.” His blue eyes held mine.

Realizing I hadn’t told him my name yet, I added, “I’m B—”

He cut me off. “Wait, I’m good at this. Bella!”

“Uh, no.” My left eyebrow scrunched.

“Becca? Becky?”

Taken aback, I stared.

“Bonnie?”

“Are you just going through all the Bs?” I asked.