Summer was almost over. That meant my classes were almost over. It was a relief, in one way, because my brain was beginning to feel fried from all the coursework and readings and papers. I was looking forward to a first semester filled with art, not essays.

I also couldn't help but feel a little sad.

My living situation was going to change soon. I was only supposed to be staying at Cameron's until I moved into the dorms. Once school started, I wouldn't have a reason to stay in the mansion with him.

Cameron hadn't broached the subject yet. For all I knew, he couldn't wait to get his bachelor pad back. We were a couple, yes, but moving in together so soon was rushing things, wasn't it?

I supposed that, since we'd already been living together, it wouldn't really be that odd. But still. Cameron hadn't said anything about me staying past the end of summer.

Not to mention, how in the world would I explain to Noah why I was staying at Cameron's without him getting suspicious?

Because I still hadn't been able to figure out a way to tell Noah about me and Cameron.

I could tell him when we were alone together, just the two of us. Noah wouldn't be able to punch my new boyfriend in the face if Cameron wasn't there.

Cameron and I could present a united front and tell him together. Convince him that we were serious about each other, and that this wasn't just Cameron playing around. Of course, we risked Noah flipping out and beating the shit out of Cameron then and there.

I could tell Noah ahead of time that I had some news to share. Let him brace himself of the worst before I spilled and hope that whatever he thought up wasn't as bad as what I was going to tell him.

I could always just spring it on him, matter-of-fact. Pretend like it was no big deal and hope he didn't overreact.

I had to snort to myself. Hoping Noah wouldn't overreact was a futile wish. I knew he wouldn't take my relationship with Cameron lightly.

I was thinking through my options as I drove back to the mansion from campus one afternoon. I was so absorbed in thought, I didn't notice the front door until I'd already parked and left the car.

When I saw the front door, wide open on its hinges, my heart immediately ran into overdrive.

Why was the door wide open?

I always closed and locked it behind me.

Cameron did as well.

Was somebody inside?

I broke out in a cold sweat. The hairs on the back of my neck tingled with warning.

Had somebody broken in?

With my heart in my throat I inched away, plastering myself to the exterior of my car. Shivers wracked my body, my fingers cold and trembling.

I tried to calm myself down. Tried to reason with myself.

Maybe Cameron had ordered pizza, and the delivery guy was still in the foyer.

But there wasn't a delivery car in the long driveway.

Maybe the housekeepers were in a rush and had forgotten to close the door behind them.

But Cameron said the housekeepers only came on Wednesdays, and it was Friday.

The anxiety was clouding my mind. I couldn't talk myself out of it. My breath came in short pants. My legs wavered. I hit the pavement, landing on my butt. I scooted back against the car as far as I could, as if the vehicle could protect me.

I heard myself struggling to breathe, wheezing as I sucked in air. My vision was beginning to go fuzzy around the edges.

A sudden thought occurred to me, briefly piercing the clouds. I could jump back in the car and lock the doors. No one would be able to get to me, then.

With shaky hands I fumbled for my purse. I clutched the keys in my hands. The feel of the cool metal calmed me somewhat.

I had a plan. I could get out of this.

My heart still jackhammered in my chest from adrenaline, but the tightness in my chest loosened some.

There wasn't anything to fear.

I closed my eyes and I took a long, slow breath. I counted to ten. I let it out. My mind began to clear. Some of the panic began to subside.

I was finally able to breathe in shallow breaths. My racing heartbeat began to slow. I wiped my clammy hands on my skirt.

The gravel of the pavement was digging into my skin. The slight pain reminded me that I'd fallen to the ground in my panic.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I pressed my palms to my face, feeling the hot flush of embarrassment.

I chided myself for having gotten so worked up. An open front door shouldn't have sent me into a panic like that.

Strong arms wrapped around me, tugging me to a warm, firm chest.

"Fuck, Lily, are you okay?"

I opened my eyes, finding myself pressed against Cameron, my head under his chin, my legs tucked under his.

"Did something scare you?" he asked, sounding worried.

"No. I'm fine," I said through a shaky breath. "I just—"

I hated having to explain that an open front door had sent me into a panic.

But I was a bit proud of myself, too. I'd fought through the panic. I'd made a plan.

The first time, Cameron had found me hiding in the bathroom, about to pass out.

The second time, I'd almost drowned in the pool.

But this time, I was able to calm myself down. I was able to get the fear under control.

Maybe I wasn't as helpless as I'd begun to think I was. Maybe I could learn to work through the fear and anxiety.

Cameron still had his arms wrapped around me.

"I'm fine," I repeated. "You can let me go."

Cameron pulled back a few inches, still keeping his arms around me. He examined me closely as he crouched in front of me.

"You're really pale," he noted. "And your hands are clammy." He gave me a concerned look. "Are you sure you don't want to see someone about this?"

"I had a bit of a scare," I admitted. "But I'm okay."

Cameron looked doubtful. "You can tell me if you're not."

"I know. But I managed to calm myself down this time. I think I'm getting better at handling it."

My heart lifted a little as I said the words. I really did feel better. My breathing was steady, my heart no longer pounding.

Cameron pulled me to my feet. He brushed the dirt from the pavement off my skirt. I thought he might take the opportunity to cop a feel, but he didn't. He just looked at me carefully.

"I want you to feel safe," he said.

"I do, most of the time."

"Remember what I said before? You can always come to me when you're scared or afraid. I'll always be here."

That was true only as long as I lived at Cameron's. Once I moved out…

A dozen different emotions ran through me at the thought. Excitement at finally being free. A still lingering worry that I might not be able to handle being on my own. Sadness at leaving Cameron.

He must have seen the bevy of expressions cross my face.

"What are you thinking?" he asked.

I spoke the next words quietly, fearing his reaction.

"What happens when I move out?"