I STARED AT THE tiny piece of cardboard between my fingers.

Weston joined me inside the house, his eyes bright. "I thought that was long gone."

"You lost this?"

He reached for me, but instead of taking the missing piece, he laced his fingers with my free hand and pulled me deeper into the house. My stomach bottomed out from his touch, but I was too drunk to register how good the connection felt before he let go.

We stood in the doorway of a dark room, and he turned on the light, revealing a dining space. Laying in the center of the table under the chandelier was Van Gogh's' Starry Night puzzle.

"I thought it was a faulty puzzle. I was close to contacting the company, but I'm glad I didn't because you found it."

I bit my lip to stifle my laughter. Not because I was shocked he built puzzles for fun, but because of how adorable he looked talking about them, and it was the last hobby I expected him to have.

"You can do the honors." He motioned to the empty space.

"Really?"

"Yes, really."

Standing behind me, he peered over my shoulder. His body swayed into mine, his chest grazed my back, and I could tell he felt the effects of the alcohol too. Our eyes locked, and he gripped the back of the chair for support.

"Sorry, sorry."

"It's okay."

My lungs burned as I ignored my body's urge to breathe. I could only focus on how close Weston was and how he smelled like wind on a summer night and burnt cedar. Could he hear the cavalry storming through my chest?

"Do you need help finding where to put it?"

I blinked, then laughed, surprised by his humor. The tension between us eased.

"No, I do not. Thank you."

The piece snapped into place, and triumph washed over me. I walked to the opposite side of the table and rested both hands on a chair, needing breathing space.

"A perfect fit."

We ended up in the kitchen with glasses of water. If I had not started sobering up then, I would have been walking or swimming back to my house. The fire still raged on outside, with Masie sleeping beneath.

I rolled up my sleeves and stood at the sink.

"You don't have to do those."

"You cooked dinner. I'll do the dishes."

Without a word, he joined me with a drying towel. The space around us stayed alive from the music despite our silence, and the breeze kept my sweltering body cool as we cleaned like a well-oiled machine. I felt myself gaining more composure. Still, I didn't know how I would sober up to drive, even if it was a two-minute drive around the water's edge.

"Tonight was nice," he broke the silence.

I paused, smiling up at him. "Yeah, it was."

"You know, you don't have to help with fundraiser stuff just to have dinner with me."

"Is that so?" I said teasingly, but his expression did not match my tone. "I know I don't have to help, but I'll be okay. I promise."

He focused on the dish he was drying, and I continued washing.

I assumed Weston would come to the fundraiser too, but I have yet to ask. Was it selfish to want him to be there? I considered those who made up the majority of guests, and the worst he could say was no.

When the kitchen was spotless, I was yawning and chugging my third glass of water.

"You've got two options, Pierce," Weston said, closing the porch doors. "You can sleep here, or I'll walk you back. If you decide to stay, I'll be gone early for work, but Masie will keep you company."

I looked at my clothes, and before I could ask, he added, "I'll lend you a tee shirt if you need it."

My house was so close it would take less than five minutes to walk back, there was no excuse, yet I wanted to stay. I would stay in one room, he would stay in his, and we would be separated by walls. He probably did not want to walk back, intoxicated and alone. Harmless.

"As long as I'm not intruding."

"Not at all. I can show you where everything is."

He locked the doors, turned off the downstairs lights, and motioned for me to follow him upstairs.

Looks like I got my wish.

Masie trailed close behind, and when we reached the top, his bedroom door was wide open and spotless. I tried getting a closer look, but my observation was cut short as we walked down the hall.

"You can sleep in here." He showed me the spare room and its adjoining bathroom. "But if you need to shower, you can use my bathroom because I don't have soap here."

"What a terrible host."

"I know, I'm the worst."

I didn't need to shower, though I smelled like a bonfire and was slightly sticky from the humid breeze. Most of all, I wanted to see his room. So, I agreed.

His bed was neatly made, and books littered his nightstand. His white coat hung on the closet door, ready to be worn tomorrow. Masie curled up in a spot under the window, which faced my backyard.

"No puzzle's in here?"

He snorted and turned to find him leaning against the doorframe with folded arms. "I keep the puzzles out of the bedroom."

"Ah, I see. They're too intense."

He looked at his feet, and still, I noticed the apples of his cheeks had risen. Was he blushing?

He moved from the door to his dresser and handed me a tee shirt. Safely behind the bathroom door, I inhaled the fabric. I smiled. It was as if my nose was nestled in the crook of his neck.

Stop it, Ivey.

After my shower, I towel-dried my hair, finger-brushed my teeth to the best of my abilities, then slipped the shirt over my head and stared at myself in the mirror.

My fingers itched to send Kate a picture, except that would warrant an explanation, so I took a mental image, considering this was probably the only time I wore his shirt, and opened the bathroom door.

He sat on the bed, staring at his clasped hands in his lap. His head jerked up, and my feet skidded to a halt. Steam seeped out, along with the scent of his body wash.

Weston was the first to break eye contact. Starting with my bare legs, his eyes traveled up my body and lingered where his shirt draped over my breasts. Then he rubbed the back of his neck and moved closer. I swallowed.

"Are you feeling better?"

"I am. Your body wash smells good, and I took a picture of it so I could buy it."

He laughed. "You are so weird."

"What! It smells good."

"But I like the way your body wash smells."

I shifted my weight, not knowing how to respond. "That's just as weird."

"Take the compliment, Ivey," he said and pushed past me into the bathroom. "If you need anything tonight, come and get me."

He closed the bathroom.

I do not know how long I stared at the door and listened to the shower run. At some point, I walked to the spare bedroom, and Masie followed behind and lay at the foot of my bed.

"You're dad's gonna miss you," I said. She licked her lips sleepily and rested her chin on her paws.

Climbing under the covers, I stared at the ceiling and thought about tonight. I hated how messy my feelings were becoming for Weston, and I needed to tell him I would likely leave after the fundraiser—whether the house was packed or not.

Eventually, I drifted off, only to be awoken by a knock.

"Sorry, I'm looking for—" Weston's voice cut through the silence. "Masie. There you are."

I propped myself onto my elbow, squinting from the hallway light.

"Sorry, I did not mean to wake you."

"It's okay. I was half-asleep anyway."

I blinked, rubbed my eyes, and blinked again.

He did not have a shirt on. His sweat pants hung dangerously low on his hips, and his hair was damp from the shower. I must not have been asleep long.

"I see you stole my dog."

"I didn't steal her. She chose me."

"You'll stay here and protect Ivey from the ghosts then, hmm?" he asked.

We both glanced at the dog, who snored ever-so-slightly.

"That's a yes."

"I guess you can keep her tonight," his voice barely audible as he added, "Traitor."

We both laughed, and he gripped the doorknob and then paused, staring at me.

"Goodnight, Ivey."

"Night, Weston."

THE NEXT MORNING, I awoke to sunlight streaming through the window, past the blinds I forgot to shut. My head was groggy but not nearly as bad as the morning after Weston and I went to the bar.

"Masie?" I called out, but she was nowhere to be found. The house was eerily silent, and a glass of water, an empty mug, and Ibuprofen sat on the nightstand.

My lips stretched ear to ear. He left these.

After chugging the water and taking the medication, I assumed the empty mug meant there was coffee downstairs, so I dressed and hurried down to find a pot waiting.

Thanks for the coffee and Ibuprofen. I texted Weston.

You're welcome. Could I ask a favor? Could you let Masie out before you go?

Roger.

I opened the porch to let her out and spotted a boat drifting through the inlet. Right away from the expensive build and "The Zoe" plastered on the side in cursive, I knew it was the Lincolns.

"Shit," I hid behind the wall as if she could see into Weston's house. Though, if she knew what my car looked like, there was no point hiding.

The boat slowed, and she floated past my dock, looked toward Weston's house, and then sped away. What the hell was that? When I thought the coast was clear, I called Masie back inside, ensured she had food in her bowl, and drove home.

If I wanted to eat this week, I needed groceries, even though I wanted to lay on the couch. Yet, the thought of another coffee and bagel from Oliver's was enticing enough to get me in the car.

After grocery shopping, I stopped by the bustling cafe. The moment I entered, my fixated on the woman with long, sleek black hair sitting on the couch, her back towards me. Maram sat across from her, a coffee cup in hand, laughing, and instantly knew who it was.

Zoe.

She was back.

My stomach dropped. Did Weston know? Had they seen each other yet?

I did not have the stamina to see her today, so I turned on my heel when the bell rang, and Nora stood between me and the exit. "Ivey!"

You've got to be kidding.

"I came by your house today but couldn't find you, and you still haven't contacted me about the fundraiser, so I'm thrilled to have run into you."

"Sorry I've been so busy," I lied and followed her deeper into the cafe. My eyes flickered to Zoe, wondering if she had seen me, but she and Maram were too deep in conversation to notice her mother and me.

"No worries at all. My daughter Zoe got in yesterday, and we decided to go for coffee. Please come join us. I'm sure she'd love to see you."

Considering Zoe and I didn't know each other or talk in high school, I doubted she'd love to see me, but I was already standing in front of her before I could refuse.

"Hey, girls," Nora said, and they stood to hug one another. "Look who I ran into. You remember Ivey Pierce, right?"

I was surprised Nora did not introduce me as 'the girl with dead parents.'

Zoe looked me up and down, and I suddenly felt like an underclassman again. Unlike her mother, pure kindness shone in her blue eyes as she opened her arms. "Oh my goodness, Ivey. It's so wonderful to see you. How long has it been? Almost a decade?"

"I think so. You look great," I said, then hugged Maram, who excused herself to refill the coffee pot and grab two more coffee cups.

"Thank you, and so do you. Are you living here again?"

My gaze dropped to the large diamond ring on her finger, but I didn't stare long enough for her to notice. So she's engaged? Weston did not mention that, so it must be recent.

"I'm just visiting," I clarified, not mentioning any plan to sell the house. "I live in Washington State."

We small-talked for the majority of the early afternoon. She told me all about her job in New York and mentioned nothing about her engagement. Nora talked over her daughter, telling stories that were clearly Zoe's to tell, and I watched Zoe bite her tongue, smiling into her mug as her mother spoke.

Even when the conversation shifted to someone other than the Lincolns, I watched her.

I wondered how it felt to grow up with a mother like Nora. With her unreasonably high sense of self-importance, no matter how much you achieved, you still lived in her shadow. Here, Nora was untouchable, and everyone fed into it.

Then, I remembered why everyone hated Weston. My chest tightened at the thought of the rumors between him and the woman sitting across from me.

They went to college together. They used to be good friends, and she got him his job.

"Ivey, you weren't at the last town meeting." Nora interrupted, catching me off guard.

"I've been trying to finish projects for work. The joys of working virtually." I tried to keep the conversation light.

"I wanted to talk to you about what you would say during your speech."

"My speech?"

"For the fundraiser. The speech about your parents."

"Mom—" Zoe started but was ignored.

"It is a part of the itinerary for the night."

"I don't have one planned."

"That's perfectly okay. Let's meet at my house sometime this week to discuss last-minute details before we start officially setting up for the event. The girls can help you, and they can read over anything you write. But you're a great writer, so I don't think it will be a problem."

On cue, Nora's phone rang, and she excused herself outside.

The three of us sat in silence, and I felt and heard my heart beating in my throat.

Zoe touched my hand. "I'm sorry for your loss, and I know my mom can be a lot."

Our laughter broke the tension. After thanking her, I asked, "So are you staying for the fundraiser?"

"Yes, I'll be back and forth between here and New York until then. Duty calls."

"I'm catering dessert, so I'll be helping out too," Maram said, and I was surprised she had not brought up Weston, considering how close she and Zoe were and because she knew he and I were friends.

Part of me wanted to bring him up, but I knew that would cause more trouble than it was worth. I wanted to hear her stories about their college days and how he acted. What was he like? Was he an introvert? Did he struggle to smile then too? Why did he come the whole way to Clifton alone?

Nora returned and planned a day for us to meet at her house.

I needed space, so I stood. "Thank you, guys, for the coffee. It was nice seeing you."

We parted ways, and when I got to my car, all the ice cream I got at the store melted, but I drove home anyway. 

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Did you see the lil' homage to TAOY? :) 

QOTD: What is your go-to drink order? (talking nonalcoholic haha)  

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