“Six,” I murmur when the credits roll. “You asleep?” No answer. Eddie Carlton hogs half of the sectional. I can’t be annoyed, because he’s the reason Emily’s breath warms my chest through my undershirt, that her hand’s wrapped around my wrist, that her legs are curled over mine. I stop the movie and scoop her up, blanket and all, and carry her did the right thing by protecting her. Right now, it’s hard to believe. The closet door is ajar, so I step inside. The first thing in it is a garment bag. I tug down the zipper, and the purple dress inside twists my guts another sharp turn. After...