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Without hesitating, I jump to my feet and dart across my yard, pushing through the gap in the fence and running up to her back door. I knock, but there’s no response.

Which only ratchets up my anxiety.

I try the knob, expecting it to be locked. But it’s not. I slip inside and quietly close the door behind me before looking around the kitchen.

Nothing appears out of place.

The same goes for the living room. Except it’s no longer a shrine to Wyatt’s football career. Instead, all the photos of him have been replaced with family photos.

As it should have always been.

I head toward the stairs and climb them, tiptoeing down the hallway and toward Wynter’s room.

At least I assume this is Wynter’s room.

It was her room all those years ago.

I stop outside her closed door but don’t immediately barge in.

What the hell am I doing?

Breaking into my neighbor’s house because she didn’t come over and sleep with me?

That’s not exactly normal behavior.

It’s the kind of thing that would make me sound like an obsessed stalker if I tried explaining it to someone.

But I need to make sure she’s okay.

I’m just doing what any reasonable person in my position would.

At least that’s what I tell myself.

I bring my hand up to the wood and tap softly, the sound carrying in the stillness. Gary responds with a low growl, but that’s it. No footsteps. No movement. No sweet voice asking who it is.

I turn the knob and crack the door open slightly. The instant Gary sees me, he calms down, falling onto his back in the hopes of a few belly rubs.

I open the door wider, then step inside, the floorboard creaking beneath my weight. Wynter shoots up in bed, her red-rimmed eyes flying to me.

“Joshua?” She wipes at her cheeks. “What are you doing here?”

She’s been crying. Over what?

“I was worried after you didn’t show up when you said you would. I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.” I step farther into the room, but still keep my distance. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. You don’t need to worry about me.”

“But I do worry about you, Wynter. I care about you. A lot.”

She lifts her eyes to mine, her lips parting as if she wants to say something. She looks so damn sad. A complete change from the woman I had in my bed this morning. The woman who was laughing and smiling. Now she looks like someone extinguished the light inside of her.

“What’s wrong?” I take another hesitant step toward her. “What happened?”

“It’s nothing.” She clears her throat, wiping her tears again. “Just had to talk to Wyatt today. That’s all.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” I move toward her bed and carefully sit on the edge, keeping a respectful space between us.

“Not really.”