“She’s the reason I stopped. She wanted a soda.”

“The soda I bought for you?”

He nods. “It was for her.”

I get up and sit on his lap. Wrapping my arms loosely around his neck, I ask, “Why were you worried I’d be upset?”

He shrugs, resting his head to the right. “I don’t know. I didn’t know how you’d react to hearing that my family looked you up online.”

“It doesn’t sound like you were in on the plan, and what she found is there for everyone to see. It doesn’t bother me. I’m grateful for the scholarship.”

Money doesn’t set me apart simply because my dad and I have never had any.

I could serve at the Dime Diner at thirteen and get enough tips to pay for a bill or two, and then have some left over to save for college. Debt isn’t something my dad or myself want to be buried under. We’ve been close to losing everything a few times, and I hope to never experience that again. Tightening my hold on him, I ask, “Was anything else said about me?”

“I may have told them you’re my girlfriend.”

Whoa. “You did? You told your family about me?”

“It just came out.”

Okay, I can handle this confession one of two ways. I can swoon or tease him mercilessly. “Right out of your heart?” I never claimed to always take the high road. Since I’m already swooning over this man, I choose to joke with him instead. I love the way he laughs, instantly knowing I’m giving him a hard time.

With his arm wrapped around me, he brings me closer and gives me a kiss. “It sure did.”

“Save room for Jesus.” My dad’s voice reaches the bedroom.

Harbor’s eyes widen, and he stands, lifting me with him and setting me on my feet. He whispers, “Is your dad religious?”

“Not at all,” I reply, laughing. “But that line always worked.”

Resting back, he stretches out his legs and smirks. “Are you telling me that you had a lot of guys in your room?”

I get up, laughing. “I think you already know the answer to that based on what I told you last night. And I have a feeling you can’t tell me the same about your room.”

“You’re right, but we don’t need to get into the weeds of my sex life.” He pushes off the floor, laughing, and slides back over to the desk. “Trust me, nothing is interesting about that until last night.”

I walk to my closet to peek in. It’s been a while since I’ve gone through my things, and I can’t remember what I left here. “And what was so interesting about last night?”

“You.”

“You know how to make a girl feel good about herself.”

Our eyes connect across the room. “I only speak the truth.”

I flip through old clothes on hangers, trying to settle the anxiety of Harbor seeing a part of my life that few have or ever will. From the house to my room, he’ll have a fuller picture of who I am and where I came from. Will he still like me the same?