Dad has been helping herd the girls out the door in the mornings, but I’ve realized I enjoy spending a little time with them until they take off for the day. I’m at my massage studio until eight some nights, picking up the clients who like to come in after work, and sometimes I only get to see the girls for an hour or so before I make them go to bed.

My sleep was more restless than usual last night. I dreamed about William, him moaning in my ear, my oil-slicked hands running over his hard muscles. I made it through the whole massage without giving in to any of my…baser urges, and I got out of there as soon as I could. But after last night’s dreams, I’m pretty sure I need to head into the gallery early and make good use of the fancy showerhead in the apartment’s bathroom. Of course, sometimes Will showers there, and if I ran into him in the shower—

I push myself up and shake my head, trying to make my unwelcome fantasies scatter.

I’m hardly off the couch before Gabby is opening the door to the bedroom she shares with her sister. She flashes me that sweet smile before heading toward the bathroom. She’s been talking more. Just a little here and there, but her teacher told me she’ll answer questions sometimes in class, and the general sense of despair seems to be lifting off her shoulders.

The squeak of the old pipes and spray of the shower carry through the door. Satisfied that things are moving in the right direction, I decide to start a pot of coffee before waking Drew. My father has given up all “mind-altering substances,” which apparently includes caffeine, so I had to buy my own coffee, but luckily I found his old pot in the attic and I don’t have to settle for instant anymore.

After filling the pot and pouring the water into the reservoir, I add grounds to the filter and hit the switch to start it brewing before heading in to wake up Drew. There’s no need to rush when the house only has one shower.

“Drew,” I call, knocking softly on her bedroom door. “It’s time to get up.”

“No,” she calls back. “Go away.”

I crack the door and peek in to see her with the covers drawn up over her head. “You have thirty minutes to take a shower, dry your hair, and get dressed. If you don’t want me sending you to school in your pajamas, get out of bed.”

“I’m not going,” she says, her voice muffled from behind the blankets. “You didn’t finish high school. I don’t see why I have to.”

“Because I don’t want you to have to do everything the hard way like I have.” I sigh. To say that Drew “isn’t a morning person” is a dramatic understatement. “Get up and I’ll let you borrow my clothes.”

She rips the covers down and glares at me, as if I just hurled insults as her instead of promising something she’s been begging for.

“Come on, Drew. It’ll—”

I don’t get to say any more because my words are cut off by the sounds of Gabby’s shrieks, and Drew and I both run into the bathroom to see what’s happening.

“Oh, my God!” Drew screeches when I open the door. “That’s so gross! I f**king hate this place.”

I let her stomp away and try to hold back my own shudders of disgust. Gabby is standing on the edge of the tub, clinging to the shower curtain, eyes wide and focused on the floor.

I hear my dad’s heavier steps behind me but I’m still too horrified to move.

“What’s going on?” he asks, sleep slowing his words.

I swallow hard. I have to fight every instinct to climb on top of something—anything—and get my feet off the floor. “Dad,” I say, impressed with how calm I’m able to keep my voice. “You have a rat.”

“So,” Meredith says. “What happened with Cally? Did you uncomplicate things?”

We’re jogging along the river together this morning. Before Cally moved back to town, Meredith and I went running a few times a week. In retrospect, I can see why she may have thought our relationship would evolve into something more, so I’ve been finding excuses to cancel. When she texted me last night to see if I wanted to join her, I agreed. I’m a lot more comfortable about our friendship since we cleared the air during poker night with the grandmas.

“Things are still complicated,” I answer. “Epically so. I had to endure a thirty-minute lecture from Grandma when she found out Cally was renting the space above the gallery for her massage studio.”

“Ouch. You should have seen that coming, I guess.”

She’s right. I love my grandmother and like to tell myself she’s only looking out for me, but sometimes she’s so damn judgmental I can’t understand how she’s the same sweet woman who made me fresh chocolate chip cookies every Sunday afternoon while I was growing up.

“What’s Grandma going to think when she finds out you and Cally are dating?”

I point to the turn and we follow it up the street to double back toward my house. I don’t know what I expected to happen during the massage last night. Did I think she’d pick up where we left off seven years ago, where “massage” was code for heavy make-out session? The only thing that changed after an hour of her hands on my body was that I wanted her even more than before and she seemed more anxious than ever to get away from me. “I’ll worry about that when she’s finally willing to spend more than five minutes in the same room with me.”

She slows to a walk, so I do too.

“I’m sorry,” she says. “Do you mind?”

“Not at all. Are you okay?”

She nods and fans her hand in front of her face. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just a little under the weather.”

“We don’t have to run. Let’s just walk.”

She flashes me a grateful smile. “Thank you. I guess it’s a good thing it’s hot today since I have a cold shower waiting for me at home.”

“Why’s that?”

“Water heater broke. The guy’s coming out to fix it tonight, but until then I’m roughing it.”

I frown. “Why don’t you just take a shower at my house?”

Her face brightens. “Hot water? Seriously? That would be awesome.”

“It’s no problem at all. I have plenty to go around.”

We walk in silence for a bit, and my mind instantly wanders back to Cally, to her hands on me during my massage, to the way she’s been avoiding me, to her eyes on my body when she thinks I’m not paying attention.

“Can I ask you a question?” Meredith asks.

“Of course.”

“How long are you going to wait around for her?”

It’s one of those questions I shouldn’t honor with an answer, not with my complicated relationship with Meredith. But maybe she deserves the truth. “I’ll wait until I have every reason to believe there’s no chance for us.”

I’ve only seen William’s house the once, but it’s bigger than I realized that first day in town, barely hinting at the Mc in McMansion. I knew he had a sizable trust fund, but judging by his house alone, his parents left him even more than I thought.

I press the doorbell before I can chicken out. I feel like I’m taking and taking from William and I hate asking for more.

I wait for a moment, listening for movement. I’m about to walk away when the door swings open.

“Holy shit.” The words slip out of my mouth before I can stop them and my mouth goes dry at the sight of the man before me.

“Cally? What are you doing here?”

Fresh-from-the-shower William Bailey in nothing but a pair of gym shorts and all the muscles a girl’s hands could ask for. His blond curls look darker wet, and he still has beads of water on his bare shoulders. Lord have mercy.

He blinks at me, and I realize I haven’t said anything. “Hey,” I say softly, “I need a favor.”

“Come in.” He pulls the door open wider.

I follow him into the house and try not to stare at the rivulet of water running down between his shoulder blades. “You caught me just out of the shower. Make yourself at home. I’m going to run upstairs and get dressed.”

Please don’t. “No problem.”

“There’s coffee in the kitchen. Want me to grab you a cup before I run up?”

“No need.” I shove my hands into the pockets of my work scrubs. Too damn tempted to touch. “I’ll just follow my nose.”

The corner of his mouth pulls up in a lopsided grin. As his eyes scan the length of me, something flutters wildly in my stomach. “I’m glad you came by, Cally.”

Then he’s jogging up the stairs, and I’m alone in his expensive house, feeling like I’m sixteen years old again. The memories of waiting for him in his grandmother’s living room are not my favorite. She would eye me disapprovingly and ask passive-aggressive questions about my parents. She knew them both and approved of neither. Such was my adolescence.

I follow the smell of coffee and have to bite my lip against the instinct to whistle when I step into his kitchen. Dark wood contrasts sharply with the shiny stainless steel appliances and cool stone counters. Sunlight pours from a bay window on the far wall and splashes against the polished wooden table in the breakfast nook.

I find the coffee pot tucked in a little alcove next to the refrigerator and a mug in the cabinet above. I fill it with shaking hands. There’s no way I can drink this. Not with the riot of nerves making a mess of my gut.

Why am I so nervous? Because I’m going to ask him a favor, or because I’m alone with William in his house?

I’m not the girl I was when Will and I were together. Not much makes me nervous anymore. But he does. Being so close to something I want so much and can’t have does.

Settling into a chair at the breakfast nook, I take in his gorgeous backyard. Lush, green grass, flag stone patio, all bathed in delicious early-autumn sunlight that reminds me of my childhood and tempts me to indulge in what-ifs and might-have-beens. What if I had never taken money from Anthony? What if Mom had never made us move? What if I had taken that plane home for his senior prom?

It’s hard to remember that I was once the one who believed so strongly in destiny. In us. I believed the Universe would find a way to bring us back together.

I squeeze my eyes shut and wrap my hands around my mug, willing the warmth to soothe my uncharacteristic nerves.

“You didn’t have to sit in the dark.” William’s voice startles me, and the room fills with light.

“Your home is beautiful. I imagined you in a house like this.”

“You imagined me, huh?” He pours himself a cup of coffee and settles into the seat across from me. “What else did you imagine?”

His hair is a mess of wet curls and his black tee stretches across his shoulders and over his sculpted pecs. He didn’t have those muscles when we were teenagers. Not that he didn’t have a nice body, but the good-looking boy has developed into a jaw-dropping man. And I want him.

It’s nice to want things. Something I’m frequently telling Drew.

“I imagined you married with a couple of kids.”

The pain that sweeps over his features at my remark reminds me to find out more about what happened with him and Krystal. Had Lizzy said something about a wedding reception? Was he divorced? And how did Maggie figure in to all of that? So many questions I have no business asking when I’m not willing to answer similar ones about myself.

“No wife or kids yet. But don’t bring it up around my grandmother. She’s doing her best to remedy the situation.”

That makes me smile. Maybe his grandmother never was much of a fan of mine, but I always respected her for the way she raised and loved her grandson. She would have done anything for him. We all deserve someone like that. “How’s the old lady doing?”

“She’s great. She’s gonna outlive all of us.”

I grin. “That’s good to hear.” Then, because I want to get it over with, I blurt, “I need a big favor.”

“Sure. What is it?”

“I want your permission to move the girls into the apartment for a couple of days. There was a—” I take a breath and shudder, “—a rat in the bathroom at Dad’s house this morning. I can’t make them sleep there until we get an exterminator out.”

He frowns. “How’s that going to work? There are three of you, and the only bedroom has your massage studio set up in it.”

“It’ll have to work. We’ll make it work somehow. Seriously, they flipped out. I just can’t make them stay there until it’s taken care of. I’ll pay you more rent for use of the whole apartment, but….” God, I hate this. The IOUs I have out with Will are really adding up, and I hate owing people. “It might be awhile. I can’t afford a hotel.”

“Of course, Cally, but I think you’re missing the obvious solution here.”

I tense. “What’s that?”

He waves his hand, gesturing to the space around us. “This house. I have more than enough room to take you all in for a few days. Longer if you need. Move in here with the girls and have the exterminator come out, but you can also use the time to get the carpets changed and do the painting you wanted to get done.”

I’m speechless. I don’t deserve anything from this man, and yet he keeps giving. “We couldn’t impose on you like that.”

“It’s no imposition.”

I tear my eyes away from his and look out into the yard, trying to remember my childhood here in New Hope, our rundown little house in town, never enough money and too many girls under one roof—just Mom, Dad, my two little sisters and me, wishing for a better life. They were good days. We just didn’t have the perspective to understand it then. “I’m only agreeing because I think it’s best for my sisters. If it was just me—”