We spend the rest of the evening situating her things, but before it gets too late, I tell Candace, “I’m gonna give my mom a call.”

She acknowledges me as she continues to move things around, and I take a seat in the chair by the window while I call.

“Hey, Mom.”

“How are you?”

“Actually, I’m really good,” I tell her, and when I turn, I catch Candace grabbing her pajamas as she mouths to me, ‘I’m gonna take a shower.’

I give her a nod as my mom says, “Well, that’s good to hear.”

“I have some news I think you’ll like,” I goad and she falls into it, saying, “Don’t keep me in the dark. Tell me.”

“Candace is back. She’s moving in with me.”

“What? How did that happen?” she asks in total shock.

“She showed up here yesterday, and we talked everything out.”

“And she’s moving in?”

“She is moved in,” I clarify as I look at all of her things scattered around the room.

“That was quick.”

“It feels like it took forever,” I joke.

“You know what I mean,” she says. “How is she?”

“Good. I think we’re just both so worn out, but I was calling to see what your plans were for the Fourth.”

“No plans really. Why?”

“Candace and I want to come down for a few days. I know she misses you.”

“Of course,” she exclaims. “I miss her too. Is she around for me to talk to?”

“She’s in the shower, but I’ll have her give you a call tomorrow.”

“So . . . how are you feeling about all of this?” she asks in a more serious tone.

“Like this was how it was always supposed to be. Having her here with me. I felt completely lost without her, and now it just feels right again.”

“I’m so happy for you, dear. For both of you.”

When I hear the water shut off, I say, “Thanks, Mom. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

“Love you.”

“You too.”

I walk over and grab her empty luggage off the bed and take it downstairs to store it in the guest bedroom closet before heading back upstairs. Slipping into bed, I don’t have to wait too long before Candace comes out and crawls under the sheets with me.

As she lets out a heavy sigh, she says, “I’m exhausted.”

“It was a long day, huh?”

“Too long,” she says with a breathy laugh.

“So, my mom said we could come out for a visit. She’s anxious to see you. I told her you would call tomorrow.”

“Oh . . . umm . . .”

Seeing the hesitation on her face, I ask, “What?”

She inches down and lays her head on the pillow, and I do the same as we face each other.

Reading her eyes, I ask, “What’s going on?”

“It didn’t feel weird to me until you called her.”

“Is that why you rushed in to take a shower?”

I watch as her eyes drop and I ask, “Tell me what makes this feel weird?”

She moves her eyes up to mine when she says, “Because she knows.”

“Knows what?”

“What you told her about what happened . . . to me.”

Pulling her in close, I tell her, “Please don’t let it make you feel weird. You know a lot of her secrets too, babe.”

“But she doesn’t know that. It’s awkward because I’m aware that she knows this about me.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I hate that people know,” she mumbles as she rests her forehead against my chest while I run my hand down her back.

Leaning down, I kiss the top of her head. “I’m sorry I told her, I—”

She cuts me off, looking up at me and saying, “Don’t be sorry. I’m not mad about it, just embarrassed.” She quickly moves her fingers to my mouth to keep me from talking, adding, “And I know you’re gonna tell me to not be embarrassed, but there’s no way around it. I just am.”

I kiss her fingers and then take her hand, holding it against me. “She loves you. She has her own past that I know is embarrassing to her. She never wanted anyone to know either. That’s all I’m gonna say,” I tell her lightly and then put an end to all of the talking for some much needed kissing.

“She’s living with you?” Max questions before laughing and saying, “This from the guy who once gave me shit for Traci moving in with me.”

“Go ahead, man. Get your laughs in, but I don’t give a shit.”

“I know you don’t,” he says. “I’m really happy for you. I was getting tired of your broody side.”

Packing up my things, I let out a chuckle when I say, “Me too.”

“You guys should come over. I know Traci would like the company. She’s going a little crazy being at home every day.”

“Yeah, that sounds good. I’ll talk to Candace and call you. I gotta run though. She signed all of her contracts today with that ballet company, and I wanna be there when she gets home,” I tell him as I start heading out.

“See ya.”

When I get back to the loft, Candace’s car is already there, and when I walk in, she’s finishing up a phone call. I don’t wait as I go to her and pull her in for a hug, lifting her off the floor.

“Okay, thanks. I’ll see you then,” she says and then hangs up before kissing me.

“How did everything go?” I ask when I set her down.

“Good. I start tomorrow.”

“That soon?”

Smiling at me, she says, “Yeah. Auditions for the first performance run are in August.”

“You’re gonna have to explain how all this works, babe, because I don’t know the first thing about what your job is going to look like.”

We walk over to take a seat in the living room, and I reach out to set her on my lap as she explains, “Okay, so basically a season runs from September to June. I’ll have typical rehearsals throughout the week with about five to seven performance runs that I’ll have to audition for. Performance runs are around two weeks long with matinees and evening shows. Normally they have a two-month run around the holidays, but they cast two dancers for each role to divide up the schedule. So I’ll have some time off for Christmas, hopefully.”

“You seem excited.”

“I am, but I’m mostly nervous. Most of these girls have done their apprenticeships up there and already know each other. I’m the only one coming from a university,” she tells me.

“You’ll be fine,” I assure her. “I’m so happy for you, babe.”

I kiss her dimple when she smiles, and then ask, “Who were you talking to when I came in?”

“Oh,” she says as she sits up, looking a little flustered. “Um, that was Dr. Christman, my therapist. I needed to get back on her schedule. But . . . umm . . .”

“What is it?” I ask when she starts hesitating.

“Well, I told her what happened with the whole New York thing and moving in with you. She suggested that maybe you could come in with me for my next appointment, but you can say no,” she says timidly, avoiding my eyes.

“Why would I say no?” I question. I’ve never done the whole therapy thing, but for her, I’d do anything.

“Because it’s . . .”

“Embarrassing,” I answer for her.

“I know you’re sick of hearing that, but I can’t help it.”

“I’m not sick of hearing it, babe. I get it. You just tell me when, and I’ll be there,” I say, trying not to make too big of a deal about it for her.

Switching the subject, she tells me, “I invited Kimber to come over Friday night.”

“Jase and Mark coming over too?”

“Yeah, if that’s okay? I should have asked first.”

“This is your home, Candace. You don’t need to ask me if you want to have your friends over. It’s fine,” I tell her. “Max invited us over to hang out as well.”

“What about Gavin?” she asks out of the blue.

“What do you mean?”

“You still talk to him?”

“I haven’t seen him in a while. I think that friendship is dead. We’re just on totally different wavelengths,” I explain.

“When did that happen?”

“When he kept trying to sling chicks at me when all I wanted was you,” I tell her as I run my fingers through her hair.

She looks uncomfortable when her only response is, “Oh,” and knowing her so well, I go ahead and answer her unspoken question.