I’m about to tell him that I’ll be fine and that I don’t want to stay in his house. Standing here in the kitchen with him, I wonder if he was with someone just now and if I maybe interrupted his date. Knowing it is one thing but seeing it? Two different things. “I don’t want to cramp your style,” I say, leaning back on the counter and putting the water bottle on the counter. “I can call Jacob and see if I can crash on their couch.”

“Cramp my style?” he asks, his eyebrows pinching together. “I don’t even know what that means.”

I’ve had a really shitty day, and whatever patience I have is gone. “It means that you have women who obviously like to stop by, and I don’t want to be in the way.”

“One,” he says, walking toward me, “you never get in the way, and two …” He stands right in front of me, and I really hope he doesn’t touch me. “That’s the first time anyone has come into my house.” My heart speeds up, and I try to make sure that I have my poker face on. I’m not supposed to show him that it bothers me, and I hate it. He isn’t supposed to know. “So pack your bag, Savannah.”

“Fine,” I say, rolling my eyes, and walk toward my bedroom. I ignore the loud thumping of my heart, and when I finally get into my bedroom, I sit on the bed and rub my hands over my face. Looking around the room, I see that nothing has actually been touched. My king-size bed is still made from this morning and the pictures of Ethan and me by the bed haven’t moved. I open the drawer beside my bed and see the one picture I keep hidden. It’s of Beau and me on New Year's Eve last year at the bar. He walked around the bar with five seconds to go, and when the countdown hit zero, he wrapped one arm around my waist and kissed me for a split second. The picture in the frame was taken at the exact moment before he kissed me. Both of us smiling from ear to ear, it’s a picture I look at often but don’t discuss. I close the drawer right when I hear footsteps coming toward my bedroom. I look up and see Beau fill my doorframe.

“Grady just left,” he says. Leaning to the right, he folds his arms over his chest, making the muscles in his arms bulge. “How are you doing?”