The first sight of her is like a soothing balm to my soul. Her hair is loose around her shoulders, and she’s wearing plaid pajama pants with a baggy T-shirt. But she’s beautiful.

“Hi,” is the only word I can manage.

Her brown eyes widen with surprise. “What are you doing here?”

It’s been weeks since I’ve seen her. I’ve been from Colorado to Boston to Toronto to Calgary and back to Boston again. And I thought of her through every mile and in every time zone.

“This is your place,” I say, rather than responding to her question. Because the total honesty that she’ll want from me isn’t something I’m ready to give her just yet. Maybe because the threat of rejection is still possible and very real.

She steps aside and motions for me to enter. I make my way inside, scanning the room as I take it all in. Her place is a tiny efficiency with a futon bed. It’s cold, with none of the warmth or personality I would expect of her home.

“Have you lived here long? It’s pretty . . . spartan.”

She inhales through her nose and wanders toward the windows. “It’s clean, and it’s what I can afford right now.”

“Of course. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”

Damn, I’m already off on the wrong foot.

“It’s okay,” she says, turning to face me.

Her eyes have a faraway look in them, and I realize for the first time that she looks sad. It’s an expression I’ve never seen her wear before, and I don’t like it. I want to see her smile, hear her laugh. I rub at an achy spot in the center of my chest.

“Would you like to sit?” she asks, motioning to the futon sofa.

I nod, and we take a seat.

I don’t know where to start, so I do the only thing I can think of. “You asked what I was doing here. Total honesty?”

Her gaze slowly meets mine, and she nods. “Always.”

I inhale slowly. “When you left me back in Colorado, something inside me broke.”

Confusion and maybe something hopeful flashes through her eyes. “Logan . . .”

I take her hand and press it into my palm. “Hold on. I’m not done.”

She nods for me to go ahead.

“I know it scared you, but I meant every word I said to you that day you left. I’ve fallen for you. I think about you every second.”

Summer doesn’t answer, and my heart hammers uncomfortably against my ribs.

I squeeze her hand. “Summer. Say something.”

“Total honesty,” she says. “Yeah, it does scare me. It scares the hell out of me.”

“You’re not alone anymore. You know that, right? I’ll be your family.”

“Just you?”