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Kind of in a hot way.

I front-tuck the shirt into my biker shorts and focus on clearing my toiletries from the shower as a last stop. I toss the bottles of body wash and hair products on top of everything else. If they leak, I’ll be at Mom’s in an hour, and she has a washing machine. I lean my hip on the first suitcase and force the zipper to go around the chaos inside, then repeat with the second one. I do a quick scan of the bedroom and decide that I have the essentials. If I forget anything, they can mail it. Or not. Whatever at this point. I pull the suitcases down the hall behind me with both hands and stop at the entryway table to get my wristlet and keys and pat the side of my thigh to make sure I have my phone.

“Tilly, let’s talk. I lost—” Dad says as he approaches me.

“No, stay the fuck away from me. I’m going home.” I open the front door and grip the two suitcases’ handles. I look over my shoulder at him. “I hope I never see you again.” I sound ungrateful, but between Clarissa’s passive aggressiveness and him shoving me and now hitting me, I’ve had about all the fun I can stand. I slam the trunk closed once my suitcases are loaded. I glance back at his house and notice the front door closes simultaneously, as if Dad were watching.

Leaving just like Mom did all those years ago.

Mom always knew best, too. I toss my wristlet onto the front passenger seat and sit in the driver’s seat, closing the door. For the last time, I reverse my car out of Dad’s driveway and start toward the highway that will take me back to Sacramento. It’s the same road that could take me back to Enzo, too.

Holding the steering wheel, I crane my neck to sniff the shirt, and remnants of his expensive cologne remain on the fabric despite washing. Scents have a weird way of holding onto memories. I inhale it again. From the first time I ever rode in his truck to the way he spritzed his neck before we went out, I’ll never forget how this scent mixed with his natural musk.

“You needed me. You needed me that day you broke down. You needed me at the bar.”

And admitting to babysitting me at the club? That’s still nauseating.

But Enzo needed me, too. He could need me now, for all I know. How do I know he didn’t slip back into old habits or find worse ones? Underneath his bravado, he’s sensitive, thoughtful, and weirdly safe.

It’s my turn to make sure he’s safe.

I slam on the brakes and abruptly turn right, making the car behind me honk its horn several times at me.

Sorry, I don’t know what I’m doing either.

Zigzagging through the residential roads is muscle memory at this point. Straight to his cul-de-sac. A smile plays at my lips when I spot his red truck in the middle of his driveway, but the smile fades as I notice a sleek, silver BMW parked in front of his house. I park behind it, blocking his driveway just as Enzo and Ally appear from the stone pathway to the front door. He’s just in a tank top and athletic shorts—a very Saturday morning-coded outfit for him.

“Tilly?” Enzo asks.

Ally’s wearing a business-appropriate dress that goes to her knees, and I can only assume she wore that to work yesterday. Here comes the nausea again.

Not her, Enzo. For fuck’s sake.

She raises her eyebrows when she notices me. “I need to get going,” she tells Enzo, and he nods. She unlocks her car, and the headlights flash.

“I shouldn’t be here. You’ve moved on, I guess,” I say as Ally drives off. My voice is breathless, and I turn around for my car, trying to back the sobs begging to come from my throat.

You will not cry in front of this man.

“Hey, Tilly. Stop! It’s not what you think. She’s on her way to a meeting. A meeting that I tasked her with,” Enzo calls from behind me.

“No, it’s okay. I ended it. You don’t need to come up with excuses. You’re free to fuck who you want.” I open the driver’s door, but he beats me to it. His long arm closes the door before I can slip inside, and he leans against the door to block my access.

He keeps his eyes low and sighs. “I haven’t moved on. How the fuck could I?” He brings his gaze up to study my face, and his nostrils flare before he speaks again. “What the fuck happened to you?” He presses his index finger under my chin and gently tilts my face to see my injured cheek better. I press my fingertips to my face and wince. “Your fucking dad? Some other guy? Who the fuck did this to you?” His voice increases in volume as his temper flares. His neck turns red, even under the floral patterns there. I’d recognize that from a mile away. “Don’t tell me you tripped because I know you didn’t.” I open my mouth to argue, but no sound comes out. “I’ll kill him.” Enzo reaches into the pocket of his athletic shorts and pulls his keys out, pushing himself off the surface of my car. “Move your car, or I’ll bulldoze through it. I don’t care. You need a new one, anyway.” I hear the doors of his truck unlock.

“Enzo.” Tears well in my eyes. “He’s not worth jail.” I grab his hand, but he’s unmovable once his mind is made up. “Please.”

Enzo turns to face me. “He deserves it.”

“But you don’t. Think about your family. Your reputation.” Enzo’s jaw unclenches. “Don’t do something like this because of me.”

“I’d move mountains for you. You can hate me all you want, but you should know that since I met you, I’ve existed only for you.”

I swallow the lump forming in my throat. “How am I supposed to respond to that? Why didn’t you come for me? You let me walk away.”

“How the fuck was I supposed to chase you and make it better when you dumped me for following you?” he asks with exasperation lacing his usually controlled voice. “I couldn’t.”

There he goes being fucking right again.