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I strip and climb in when the water is inches from the top, sighing in pure bliss when the heat and salt sooth tight muscles held locked in tension for too long. I flip the faucet off and lean back in the curved tub, inhaling again as I close my eyes and let my hands float lazily back and forth in the water.

Breathe. Focus.

Reset.

He didn't run.

That's the sentence that springs to mind, and while it's another stressful point in my life, I'll take it over obsessing about the rose delivery.

Sully didn't run, I silently repeat, feeling the prickle of wetness in my eyes that I blame on the steam and the day and my soul-deep fatigue.

The fact Sully showed up—twice—to get answers and bring the sunflowers doesn't mean Sully'll stick around long-term. But when it comes to dumping my abusive history onto the first guy I've taken actual interest in since it all happened? Well, I don't consider it a bad first.

So now what?

I hear a noise and still, holding my breath as I listen. But I don't hear it again.

Stop being paranoid.

I focus on the sunflowers. Focus on the memory of Sully as we pulled into the driveway tonight. The way he looked leaning against his bike, ankles crossed, flowers in hand and oh-so-handsome smile just barely quirking his lips up at the corners as though he was nervous and wanted to check my mood before grinning outright.

Hope tries to unfurl and bloom, but I squelch it down like a bug.

The flowers. The smile. The wink. His presence are all good signs, but I will not put my happiness in someone else's hands. My future. That's on me to figure out.

I can and will too.

He didn't run away.

At least not yet.

The following morning, I turn off my alarm and accidentally fall back to sleep. I wake the second time to the sound of Jasmine opening the front door and calling out my name. I glance at the clock and gasp. "Shoot, shoot, shoot!"

I scramble from the bed, bleary-eyed and muddled from too much sleep and yet not enough. "I overslept! I'm coming!"

I race for the closet, changing out of my pj's and dropping them to the floor before donning one of the many Beach Babe Burgers tees and a pair of stretchy, ripped jeans that were comfy and loose but out of style. I don't care. They are my favorite and clean so win-win.

I'm hopping into them on the way to my bedroom door when I hear Jas literally walk into it.

"Why'd you lock the door?" she asks, voice muffled.

I take precious seconds unlocking the knob and leave it to her to open and let herself in, turning to do up the button fly as I head back to the dresser for socks.

"Hey. You okay?" Jasmine asks.

"Yeah, I turned off the alarm and fell back to sleep."

"Well, you are exhausted, so that's understandable. Maybe you should go back to sleep and meet up with me later? Tim is coming in today, so I won't be alone for long."

I shake my head and hop again as I pull on socks. "I'm awake. No going back to sleep now."

Jasmine tucks her hands into her jean pockets and eyes me. "So I guess Sully came back last night, huh? Did you two…?" She waggles her eyebrows and gives me an expectant look.

I stare at her with a frown. "What do you mean? He didn't come back. You saw him leave."

Jas flashes a stare that says she doesn't believe me.

"Why do you think he came back? And just so we're clear—did you send me the roses? The card?"