“And I appreciate that, but, Wilder, you need to live your life. Is that why…is that why you haven’t gone anywhere? Why I keep telling you to go on a trip, but you won’t; you just stay here in the city? Because you’re worried about me?”

“Yeah, Mika. Listen, what happened that day⁠—”

“Was a mistake,” he says.

“But it scared the fuck out of me.” I point to my chest. “And I never want that to happen again.”

“It won’t,” he says seriously. “I promise, it won’t. I’m better. I’m in a better place. I promise you. You won’t ever have to worry about that again.”

“Really?” I ask.

He nods. “I fucking promise.”

“Okay,” I say, feeling myself relax for the first time in a really long time.

I stare out the window, but he pulls my attention back by saying, “So what about Scottie?”

“I like her,” I say simply. “And now I need to show her how she deserves to be treated.”

“Because you messed up?”

I shake my head. “No, because she needs to know that she’s worth another human’s time. She needs to realize that she’s not forgettable.”

Mika nods his head. “And you think you can do that?”

“I know I can.”

I just need to visit someone to help me out.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

SCOTTIE

Denise: You seriously not coming out tonight?

I stare down at the text from my friend and sigh as I stand in front of the window AC unit of my apartment, trying to get over the city’s summer heat.

Scottie: No. It’s hot, muggy, and I just want to stay home.

Denise: You can’t hide forever, Scottie. I know I told you we didn’t have to talk about it in the car yesterday, but I feel like going out to the bar, having a few drinks, and just discussing things to get them off your chest would be a really good idea.

Scottie: Really, I’m fine.

Denise: You didn’t seem fine in the car.

Scottie: Trust me, I am. No need to worry about me.

Denise: I’m worried.

I shake my head and set my phone down, because I’m not in the mood. I spent all day cleaning my apartment from top to bottom, making sure I scrubbed every last inch. I did this to keep my mind off things, off the camp, off my last conversation with Wilder. And it worked up until I had nothing else to clean. So then I cleaned myself.

And once again, I scrubbed every inch, even took an old toothbrush filled with soap between my toes. That was a new experience.

So now I rival the cleanliness of a bleach-scrubbed wall, which feels great, but because it’s so muggy in the city today, it’s ruining the vibes.

Knock. Knock.