“That’s really nice of you.”

Nana Jo gave Jess a Is that all you have to say to him? frown, and when River glanced to the side at the sound of a monitor beeping, Jess returned a helpless What else do you want me to say? shrug.

Nana Jo rolled her eyes and Jess looked back to River, who unfortunately had caught the tail end of this nonverbal conversation. He cleared his throat and pulled his sleeve back to look at his watch. “I should probably head out.”

“Thank you for stopping by,” Jess managed.

“Yeah,” River said haltingly. “Of course.”

Jess tried again. “Can I walk you out?”

He nodded, and she followed him into the hallway.

“I’m sorry if I’m intruding,” he said immediately.

“No.” She lifted her coffee to him. “This will save me today.”

Frowning, he murmured, “Well, I’m glad.”

What would really be helpful would be to step into his arms and let him worry about everything for a few hours. River seemed willing to be that person.

Last night had felt like falling into a deep well filled with stars. Jess could have stayed in his arms for hours without coming up for air. But right now was not the time to be distracted by constant thoughts of getting into River’s pants.

He straightened. “I brought something for Juno.” Digging into his messenger bag, he pulled out a few sheets of paper. “Some roller coaster stuff I printed off last night.”

Jess took the papers without looking at them, unable to shift her gaze from his face. Her heart was ramping up to a crescendo, but her mind had gone unexpectedly mute.

These small, easy ways of caring: sandwiches, coffee, school pickups, roller coaster research.

Juno’s heart was built to expand. He picked me up at school sort of like a daddy would. She was going to get attached, but if his relationship with Jess didn’t pan out after their experiment, he would be gone. Juno would know abandonment—after every tiny and enormous effort Jess had made to build a lasting, secure world for her.

And Jess couldn’t deny: she would feel the loss, too. She didn’t want him to become indispensable and precious to her. She’d never needed anyone except her tiny circle. She didn’t know if she was even capable of trust-falling backward into anyone else’s arms.

It was unfair after everything he’d done for her in the past twenty-four hours, but fear crawled up inside her like a creeping, strangling vine anyway. “Thank you for doing that,” she managed robotically, lifting the papers.

River frowned, at a loss against her blank tone. “Okay—well, that’s all I’ve got.” He adjusted the strap on his shoulder, brow furrowed in confusion. This morning’s Jess was not the same woman he’d kissed outside of the car last night. “I’ll catch you later.”

He turned, stiffly, and began walking toward the elevator.

Stride, stride, stride.

Something thawed in her. “River.” She heard the way her voice rang down the hall, its odd, desperate pitch. “Wait.”