I stayed in the car long after he parked back in the driveway.

Marcus killed the engine and just sat there with both hands on the wheel, staring at the dark house like it might give him a reason to send me inside alone. Rain had started again, soft against the roof. My leggings still felt damp between my thighs. Every shift reminded me exactly where his thumb had pressed.

He spoke first.

“You moved in three months ago.”

I looked at him. “What?”

“Your apartment. The pipe burst. Landlord said six weeks minimum. Ethan told me you needed a place.” His voice stayed even. “I said the guest room...