“I fell asleep,” he says, crawling into bed and taking me into his arms. He falls asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow, and soon after, I’m falling asleep myself.

When his alarm goes off at four, he turns it off, and instead of going to work out, we get lost in each other. Our hands are hungry for each other, and for two hours, all we do is live in the moment. “I need a nap.”

“So sleep,” he says, getting out of bed, and I look at him.

“I have to go to work today,” I say, and he shakes his head.

“You’re not going back there,” he says, and I sit up, holding the sheet to my chest.

“Excuse me?” I say, and he looks over at me as he puts his boxers on. I hate that he’s so good looking and that I love him when he starts to get bossy.

“I don’t want you going back there,” he says, and I get out of bed, walking to put something on.

“I have a job,” I say. “A job that I need.”

“Yeah, and your ex who is slightly unstable is out to get you, so I don’t think you going back there is a smart thing to do.” It bothers me even more when he makes sense.

“I need to work, Justin,” I say, and he shocks me.

“Come work for me,” he says, and I glare at him.

“I need someone to take Amy’s place.” He slips on his shorts. “Do you want coffee?”

“Justin, I already live with you,” I say, and he kisses my neck while he walks out and I slip on the shirt he was wearing last night. “I can’t work for you.” I follow him out of the bedroom and to the kitchen.

“If it makes you feel better, you wouldn’t be working for me,” he says, starting the coffee. “You would be working for my foundation.”

“You know it’s the same thing,” I say. “Plus, now I have to pay for your lawyer.” He slams the cupboard so hard I think it’s going to come off its hinges.

“Don't say that shit again.” He points at me. “Andrew is not your fucking problem.”

“Well, if it wasn’t for me,” I say, and he just glares at me.

“Don’t piss me off, sweetheart,” he says.

“Don’t piss me off, Justin,” I say to him, and then Dylan comes out and rubs his eyes.

“Are we going to camp?” he asks, and Justin shakes his head.

“I’m hungry,” he says, going to the pantry and grabbing a doughnut out of there. He takes a bite and is chewing it on the way back to his room.

“I don’t want you going back there,” he whispers. “What would I tell Dylan if something happened to you?”