The bed was strangely warm. Usually she woke up with a little chill and pulled the covers over her head to hibernate before finally getting up, but not today. This was different. She was actually hot.

She felt a weight beside her. In her drowsiness she tried to figure out how the cats were so heavy, until the memory came back all at once: that weight wasn’t the cats.

It was Cayden.

There’s no way that really happened. She still didn’t open her eyes; instead, she squeezed them shut and recalled every memory she could from last night.

She remembered everything.

Oh my gosh. Oh, holy shit. Turning onto her back, she put her hands over her eyes to block out the faint glow of sunlight. She knew she was at his place, but she hadn’t even seen this room. This room where...

It definitely happened.

Her skin felt like it was burning. The world was beginning to spin from the realization of what happened. She was totally sober the whole time and in full control of her mind. Admitting that last night was her decision lifted a load of stress off her. Taking a few breaths, she opened her eyes into narrow slits and looked beside her.

Cayden was lying on his side, looking at her and smiling peacefully. “Good morning,” he mumbled in a gravelly voice.

The sunlight brightened his dark eyes. Lillian smiled back. His hair stuck out in every possible direction, bringing out an innocent, sleepy charm. “Good morning,” she whispered.

“How’d you sleep?”

“Passed out. You?”

“Same. Hard not to when you’re so relaxed.” He winked.

She was already overheated, but felt her cheeks blush. “What do we do now?” The words slipped out before she could catch them.

“Go downstairs for breakfast, I guess.” He stretched, letting out a satisfied groan. “Funny, I never thought I’d sleep up here. Might have to make this a regular thing.”

“You mean this,” Lillian pointed at them both, “or the sleeping up here part?”

He smirked. “Good question.”

She leaned out of the blanket to reach for her sweater, but realized her bra strap had come undone in the vigorous activities last night. A little embarrassed at being so exposed in front of this guy she hardly knew, she pulled the covers over her chest and sat up to look around. The room was almost entirely made of wood except for one corner of brick, which she assumed to be part of the chimney. One wall was slanted. Sunlight streamed in from a couple of big windows that lacked drapes.

“We really are in an attic,” she said, looking up to the pointed ceiling.

“Yep, we are.” Cayden sat up and popped his neck. “I’m starving.”

“What time is it?”

“You’ve really got to stop asking me so many questions I don’t know the answers to. I’ve got to be at the gym around lunchtime, so it’s not too late.”

“How do you know?”

He tapped his chest. “Biological clock. It’s like an built-in alarm system. Wakes me up every day around 7:30, without fail.”

I wish my body would wake me up like that. There was no way she could fix her bra strap right now, so she quickly pulled her sweater over her head and took the bra off completely.

Cayden noticed. “You don’t need that anyway.”

“You’re certainly confident,” Lillian retorted, watching him stand up and step into his boxers.

He spread his arms. “Wouldn’t you be, if you were me?”

Lillian raised an eyebrow.

“That was pretty vain.” He crossed to the other side of the bed and offered his hand. “Shall we have breakfast now?”

Cautiously she took his hand, but remained sitting half under the covers. Her pants were on the foot of the bed, but she knew she was still wearing her underwear and felt easier. “I think I need to get home, actually. I have work to do and a meeting later.”

“No breakfast?” Cayden made a pouty face.

She hesitated.

“Please?”

“Don’t you put weird protein powders in all your food?” Joking, she stuck out her tongue.

“I don’t eat food. I only eat raw eggs and rare steak.” He rolled his eyes. “You look like you could use a little more protein, anyway. I’ll fix you up.”

“I get plenty of protein, thank you very much. I keep a detailed food journal.”

“Of course you do.” Cayden tugged at her hand. “Come on.”

“I really can’t. I have to take my meds with breakfast.” Dammit, why did I say that?

She expected some kind of sarcastic response, but a look of concern crossed over his face. “I did notice a lot of bottles. Are you okay?”

No, I’m not okay. “I don’t need any sympathy,” she said bluntly.

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Sorry.” She let go of his hand and brushed her hair behind her ear. “This isn’t something fun to talk about after a night like that. Don’t worry about me.”

The way he stared at her face was clear as a bell: he wasn’t going to forget about those bottles. He cared.

He doesn’t need to care. She really didn’t want to talk about it, and looked away. “It’s okay, for real.”

He stuck his hand closer and insisted, “Come on, let me make you food. Go get what you need from yours and come back over.”

She sighed and reluctantly took his hand again. “I’ll think about it.”

“Because walking downstairs takes ages.” There was that toothy smile that made her smile.

“Long enough for me.” She raised to her knees and swung one leg out onto the floor. Pain drove itself like a nail up her torso and her leg gave out. Trying not to fall from the sudden loss of balance, she groped the air for something and found his arm. He supported her from the waist and tried to sit her straight on the edge of the bed, but she curled into a fetal position.

“What’s happening?”

She buried her eyes in her knees and focused on breathing. “It’ll pass. Give me a second.”

“What’s happening, Lil?” he asked again, louder. She knew he had a hand on her, but the pain in her stomach was too immense to feel it.

Don’t ask questions when someone is curled up in pain, she thought, a bit annoyed, then countered herself. Maybe he’s never been around anyone who’s had this problem. He’s just surprised. She held up one finger, unable to talk, and took more breaths. Over the next minute, the pain mostly subsided and she was able to slowly uncurl.

Cayden stood wide-eyed, looking a little paler than before. “Are you okay? What was that?”

“I’m okay.” Her voice was shaky, but firm. “It’s nothing new.”

“I’ll carry you down.”

“That’s not necessary.”

“Can you walk?”

“Yes, I’m okay. I need to get home and take my meds.”

His expression asked the question again: what were those bottles for?

She answered before he could repeat himself. “I’ll explain another time.” Rising to her feet, she inhaled deeply and stepped tenderly toward the door. Cayden shadowed her; she felt his eyes on her back the whole way down the stairs.

Her water was still sitting on the coffee table where she had left it. The fire was now dimly-glowing embers. She drained the whole glass in one go, the flavors of lemon and mint strong enough to wake her up. “Well...” she tried, and wondered what the goodbye discussion should entail. “It was fun.”

“Don’t pull that shit on me.” At first, she thought he was upset, but he lightly placed his hand on her back. “Next time, you stay for breakfast.”

“Who says there will be a next time?” She was surprised, not to mention impressed, that she was able to make light humor while coming out of a pain flare.

“Someone’s playing hard to get,” he replied sarcastically.

“Who, me?” Lillian bent to pull her shoes on. “See you soon, Cayden. Thank you for the water.”

“Be careful,” he directed, opening the door for her.

She waved him off as she crossed his yard and neared her house. Before she went inside, she turned to look back at his porch. He still stood there, watching her, and when he saw she was back in her home territory he closed the door behind him.

A familiar scuffling noise reached her ears and grew louder; the cats bolted to the door, tripping over each other in their race to reach her. Loud meows filled the air and she bent to pet them. “I missed you, babies,” she rubbed their heads. “I didn’t mean to be gone so long.” It really was an accident.

Her phone vibrated in her pocket; it was the alarm, set for 8:00. Cayden’s biological clock had been right on time.

I need to ask him how to make that work for me. 8 a.m. and I feel better than I normally do.

That made sense, though; by the time they’d fallen asleep, it was well before midnight. She had only gone over there around dinnertime.

Oh. That explains the hunger. For a moment she debated going back over for breakfast, but decided against it and pulled her muesli out from the cabinet. Work, medicine, cats. Another time...maybe.

With that, she opened the first of her daily medicines.

*  *  *

“THANK YOU, CLAIRE. See you in the morning.” About to press the end button, she rolled her eyes when she heard more talking and held the phone nearer. Claire didn’t quit rambling for another two minutes so, while listening, Lillian poured her coffee and swallowed a prescription pain pill.

At last, the blabbering came to an end. “I understand; I think a compartment inside the staircase is a great idea. Let me think about it over tonight and give you a few more ideas in our meeting tomorrow.” Feeling a tiny twinge of guilt for being so eager to get off the phone, she added, “I think the staircase idea would be a really efficient use of space in your home.”

Claire showered thanks, and Lillian had to stop her before it led to another rant. “All right, Claire. I’ll see you at 10 tomorrow. Yes, in the morning. I’ll be there. Have a good night.” She ended the call almost before she said goodbye, and propped her feet up on the corner of the table. “Geez, does the woman ever stop talking?”

Suddenly paranoid the phone was still connected, she lit up the screen and let out a sigh of relief to see that it wasn’t. She let out a groan and let herself lounge there for a few minutes, recuperating.

What has he been doing? Her spontaneous “adventure” with Cayden happened three days ago. She hadn’t heard from him. Maybe he’s waiting on me. But I’m waiting on him. Who’s going to make the first move?

She hoped it wasn’t her.

In their time of silence, she had been thinking nonstop about him and their relationship—whatever kind of relationship it was—even while she was with clients. First the throw-up incident, then her drunken grief...

Amelia. Her former roommate was the last person she wanted to be thinking about right now, but every time the memory of her getting drunk and Cayden finding her on the floor of the porch came back it was tied to those vivid flashbacks of the time they lived above the nightclub.

The night Amelia saved me from the bad things. That scarred her even now. She knew it happened all the time, guys trying to slip roofies into drinks or being too forceful toward a girl who didn’t want to talk, but that didn’t make processing it any speedier. Being cornered against a wall in a dark nightclub was weirdly hopeless; everyone thought they were just another couple making out. Until Amelia saw, and knew instantly that it was all wrong.

Lillian smiled. That guy’s night had not ended well. That nightclub was literally her home turf, and Amelia was very protective of it.

They never saw that guy again. And Lillian never went back to that club except in the broad daylight before it was officially open. Reg the bartender was a great guy, and she always enjoyed talking with him.

The emotions started to come back. What an equally good and terrible time, Lillian thought. Back then, she had gotten into the habit of sleeping in headphones on nights where the music kept her awake. Rent was cheap but the apartment was far from nice and not in a great area. And she had Amelia and Reg.

I wonder how Reg is doing, she thought, getting up to find a snack. I wonder what it would be like to go back to that place and see our old stomping grounds.

Sometimes she felt like she was still talking to Amelia. Maybe she was, in a way.

She opened the cabinet and the first thing she saw was the bottle of gin. Where did I even get that? How long ago? There was no telling where it came from; she was clueless.

“I don’t need that,” she told herself, and reached for some bread. “This will help me.” I hope tonight the pain isn’t as bad as last night. Perhaps her incessant thoughts about Cayden were giving her too much stress, sending her body into a downward spiral. Her prescriptions were barely keeping her intact, and some foods that normally didn’t react with her had been misbehaving.

Just a ham sandwich. I shouldn’t feel bad after eating that. Scrutinizing every detail of her food, she finally deemed the sandwich safe to eat and scarfed it down. This is miserable. I shouldn’t have to worry so much. She washed the plate, laser-focusing on her stomach as if she were waiting for that cold, lightheaded feeling to come back. Her muscles tightened in fight-or-flight mode, ready to sprint if she felt the least bit sick.

It’ll be okay. Casting a long look at the bottles of prescriptions and vitamins and supplements on the counter, she let out a sigh. “You know,” she said to Black Cat, who was asleep on the back of the sofa, “I think what would do me the most good is having someone to talk to. A real human someone, not a cat. No offense.”

Black Cat didn’t move.

Maybe I am crazy for talking to them so much. She remembered when Cayden had asked her about that. When she answered “no,” it was honest. But nothing could replace having someone there who could listen and respond and rationalize. More than ever, she wished Amelia was just a phone call away. But after she died, Lillian hadn’t attempted to make any new friends. Over time, she got into the bad habit of not letting herself develop friendships with anyone.

Now she was regretting that decision.

That’s what I get for distancing myself from everyone. She started thinking about who she knew that she could get to know, and couldn’t think of anyone except Cayden and her clients.

Claire would love to be able to have me around all the time. Lillian laughed to herself a little. That would be a very one-sided friendship.

A thought hit her out of the blue, something that hadn’t occurred to her in a long time.

I should call Amelia’s parents. She and Amelia had been friends since they were young, and lived together for years. Lillian had essentially become a member of the family. After her death, she got much closer to Amelia’s parents and brother until they were all able to get back on their feet again.

She felt her heart wither and leap at the same time. It stung, the thought of talking to Amelia’s family again, because it felt like she was so close but out of reach.

I think it would help. Nothing’s going to change if you keep being scared, Lillian. She sat up and opened the contacts on her phone. Sure enough, there was the name: Frances and Tanner Waters. The closest people to parents she’d ever had. The people who had transformed her perception of family.

Lillian pressed the call button and listened to it ring. She couldn’t figure out why exactly she was calling. Perhaps there didn’t have to be a reason.

“Hello?”

It’s her. “Hey, Mom,” she said, trying to keep her voice strong. “It’s Lillian.”

Frances gasped and squealed. “Oh, Lillian! Honey, it’s been so long. Where have you been? Are you all right?”

A huge smile pulled up the corners of her mouth. “I’m fine. I’ve got a pretty successful business now. I work a lot. How are you?”

“We’re fine; you know us, simple and happy. Tanner’s just taken his car to get new tires. I’m about to leave for my dentist appointment, but I’ve got another minute to chat.”

“It’s okay, I can call some other time.”

She could hear Frances tsking her on the other end. “Don’t be silly; I want to hear your voice as long as I can. We’ve missed you. When can you come visit again?”

I wish I could come now, she thought. “I’ll try to work something out. I’m adding more clients to my schedule right now, so my days are pretty much full.”

“Do you still do the organizing thing?”

“Yes.”

“Wonderful. How is your health?”

Lillian tensed. “It’s okay. I’m doing my best.”

“Last time we talked, you weren’t doing so well.”

That was a long time ago, before I knew what this was. “It was a long road of tests and doctors, but we got it squared away. I’ve got it under control now.” That’s a lie.

“What was it, in the end?”

“A sickness called Crohn’s.” Saying the name out loud felt different, like her tongue had a hard time shaping the sound. “It means my GI tract gets inflamed and irritated, but mine isn’t the most severe. I have medicine that helps, and I’m really careful what I eat.”

“I see.” Lillian could picture Frances crossing her arms and thinking hard. She always did that when learning something new. “If you need anything, you call us. Promise?”

“I promise.”

“Good girl. I’ve got to run now, dear, but please call again. Oh, have you heard from Andrew lately?”

She got a small flashback of walking along old railroad tracks and eating ice cream with Amelia and her brother when they were younger. “I haven’t. It’s been about a year since we last spoke.”

“I’m going to scold him about that. He’s still working for that factory, and they just hired him a few days ago to go inspect another factory near your place.” Lillian heard the sound of rustling papers. “Are you still living in Hanniston?”

Andrew’s coming here? “I am.”

“I think that’s the place they’re sending him within the next couple of weeks. We’re not sure when. I’ll call him later tonight and have him get in touch with you.”

The idea of Andrew coming sent a rush of elation through her body; she suddenly felt like she could run a mile in a minute. “Please have him call me.” It’d be nice to see a familiar face.

“Absolutely. I can’t believe he hasn’t thought of it yet. I’ll make sure to scold him.”

Oh, Frances, you’re such a crack-up. “You do that. Have fun at the dentist, Mom.”

“Don’t worry about that. Dr. Roberts looks like a rugged Fabio. I’d stay in his chair all day if I could.” Frances erupted into her dainty laugh; it sounded like the tinkle of teacups. “Don’t tell Tanner.”

“Your secret is safe with me. Talk to you soon.”

“Bye, dear.” The phone clicked, and Lillian set hers down on the table. She couldn’t find the right words for her feelings; talking to Frances still didn’t seem quite right if Amelia wasn’t there, even after several years. But Andrew, out of all places, coming to her area? Seeing him again felt like old times coming back to life—almost. Andrew knew her differently, more like a sister; they had seen each other grow up, and went through the grief of losing Amelia together. No friend she could make now would be the same as having lived through all that with someone else.

She could talk to Andrew.

Lillian jumped up, filled with energy. The house felt too small for her swelling heart, so she went outside and dragged the folding table out from its resting place, leaning against the house. On the edge of her yard were waves of flowers, sprouting up new each day as spring came into full bloom. She picked bundles and brought them to the table with her supplies.

“Hey!” The voice echoed across her yard. She put her scissors down and saw Cayden walking toward her.

“Hey, stranger.” She snipped off some of the flowers’ stems, trying to look productive.

Cayden came over and sat on the steps of her porch. He took a swig of something from a red Solo cup. “Doing your flower-drying thing?”

She nodded. “I should have done more before now. The shop that sells them needs more.”

He looked impressed. “You really are quite the entrepreneur.”

“Worked my butt off.”

“I get that.” He stared out into the mass of trees behind their yards. “It took a long time for me to build a reputation as a trainer.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. I actually started a gym back in my hometown.”

Lillian threw a few stem trimmings off the table. “Started? Did it fail?”

“No, the opposite.” He brought his stare back to her and smiled mischievously. “It was bought out. I’d been working eighty-hour workweeks for so long that I decided to move and take a little break.”

Her jaw dropped. “Eighty hours? How did you sleep?”

“Not much.” He chuckled and took another drink. “Got an email from Jack, the guy who set up Peter’s Gym here. Said there was a waiting list of high-profile clients who wanted only the best.”

“And you’re the best?”

Cayden winked. “You got it. Sold my gym and came here. Nice to take a breather.”

“I’ll bet.” She tossed some wimpy-looking flowers onto the ground and looked at his cup. “What’s that?”

“Pre-gaming. Inviting some friends over tonight.”

“Party on a Thursday night?”

“Think of it more as an intimate gathering than a party.” His face wasn’t flushed, but it had color to it. She wondered how many he’d drunk. “I don’t mean intimate like that.”

“I figured, although I wouldn’t put it past you.”

His face lit up. “To have more than one person involved? Not my thing.”

“Sure.” Lillian rolled her eyes sarcastically.

“Actually, I came over to invite you. Since it’s a smaller group, I wondered if you’d be interested.”

“Aw, so sweet.” She pursed her lips. “It’s okay, I have work to do. Parties aren’t really my thing.”

“That’s cool but this isn’t a party, remember?”

“Close enough.”

“Should I keep pressing you or have you made up your mind?” He stood up and picked up a flower, examining it.

“I think you already know the answer.” She returned the smirk he gave her.

“Lil,” he started in a different tone. “you always have work to do. Every time I ask you to come have fun, you’re working.”

“I have to give my cats the best life possible, you know. Speaking of whom...” Setting her scissors down, she leapt onto the porch and opened the door to let the cats out. They ran off into the bushes, jumping onto the ground noiselessly.

“It made me really happy when you came over the other night.” Cayden poked his lower lip out. “You should take a break from work again.”

Ugh, not the pouty face! “I’m glad it made you happy, but I have a client in the morning who’s always going ninety to nothing. After two hours with her I’m exhausted.”

“Are you passively telling me to keep the music down?” He seemed to think it was funny.

“I didn’t think of it that way, but it would be awesome if you could.” Giving him a smile with all her teeth, she cut off a length of string and began to tie the flowers together by the stems.

Cayden fixated on what she was doing. “I thought you didn’t know anything about flowers.”

“I know about flowers and how to dry them, but I don’t know the names and what makes them grow best like you do.” Almost a little shy, she added, “I would really like to learn more about it, though.”

She could see his thoughts on his face: Finally, something I can make conversation with her about! “Well,” he said, picking up his cup, “I can teach you anytime. You have my number. All you have to do is call.”

“Are you flirting with me?” She was surprised at the sultriness of her voice.

“You tell me.”

That’s what he texted me before I went over to his place, she realized, and her face got warm. They looked at each other knowingly, but neither of them brought up what happened the other night.

“I’d better go back,” Cayden finally broke the silence. “Have to make the house look presentable before my guests arrive.” He gave a little bow and began walking away.

“Have fun,” she called.

“If you change your mind, come over.”

Lillian turned back to her flower table. She knew he meant it when he invited her, but she didn’t want to admit that joining the “intimate gathering” sounded like fun. It was something very different from her usual nightly routine, and would shake things up. Give her a new frame of mind. Loosen her up.

It might be good for me to go. She almost persuaded herself to walk over later in the evening, but at that moment her stomach tightened just enough for her to feel.

So much for that.

All the flowers were ready for drying, so she carried them inside and hung them inside the hall closet. A few other bundles hung there, not dry enough yet to frame. The smell gave her some sense of solace.

It might not be tonight, she thought, but someday I’ll go to one of his parties.

No matter how she tried, she couldn’t deny that the idea of going excited her. Before she and Cayden met, she had zero interest in any sort of party. There were too many bad memories associated with them.

But she also couldn’t deny that, in the little amount of time they had known each other, Cayden had broken through some of her glass comfort zone. And nothing scared her more than that.