“You’re homeless?” Daren repeats with a baffled expression.

It’s the first time I’ve said “I’m homeless” out loud, and I thought it would feel different coming out of my mouth. Shameful, maybe? Sad? But instead I feel… fine. Maybe even a little brave.

There’s something about sharing the same destitute state with Daren that makes me feel courageous. I’m not alone so I’m not afraid.

I nod. “My lease was up before I left Chicago, and I couldn’t pay next month’s rent, so I gave up my apartment and came out to Copper Springs without any money. Or a plan. The only thing I really have is my mom’s old car, which, fortunately, is paid off.”

“So we’re both homeless and broke, and neither of us have a plan for our life?” he says. “Whoa.”

“Whoa, indeed.”

“I guess we have more in common than we knew,” he says.

“And I guess we both have a lot riding on this inheritance.”

He nods. “It’s kind of the only thing I have to hope for right now.”

The desperation in his voice has me suddenly rethinking my plan to take all the money for myself. I didn’t have an issue scamming a spoiled rich kid who introduced himself to me as a “legendary lover,” but this guy—this penniless guy who sleeps in a vacant house and pays off a stranger’s medical bills simply because it’s the right thing to do—I can’t take money from. And honestly, he deserves it more than I do.

“Well.” Daren pulls a cookie from the bakery bag, breaks it in half, and hands a piece to me. Then holds up his own piece. “Here’s to having no plan.”

I hold up my own cookie half. “Here’s to poverty.”

“And homelessness.”

“And scavenger hunts for money,” I say.

We tap our cookies then each take a bite. Our eyes hold for a beat and I’m suddenly acutely aware that we’re alone in the dark, and a ping of desire races through me.

His eyes drop to my mouth and I absently lick my lips. It wouldn’t be completely crazy for me to give in to what I want, would it? I’m an adult, after all, and just because I don’t usually want to be with a guy doesn’t mean I shouldn’t be with one. Sure we’re in handcuffs and covered in filth, but just because the setting isn’t ideal doesn’t mean the instinct is wrong… right?

Right?

My gaze falls to his lips and we lean toward each other. His hot breath feathers across my jaw as our mouths meet, ever so slightly. I want to taste him again and shove my hands in his hair. I want to—

A flash of bright light bursts into the house and we jump back, temporarily blinded. At first I think it’s the police. They’ve discovered us breaking and entering into this giant mansion that belongs to the bank, and now we’re going to be poor homeless people in jail.

But then I realize it’s only a pair of headlights from a car turning down the street and I let out a sigh of relief. We look at each other with nervous little laughs.

“One of the pitfalls of living here,” Daren says. “You never know when you might get busted.”

“You are a true daredevil.”

“I try.” He smiles, but the sizzle in the air has vanished and now it’s just awkward between us. He looks down at our muddy clothes. “We should probably wash up. This place might not have any furniture, but it does have hot running water.”

“Oh man. A shower would be great,” I say, rolling my head back. After suffering the Quickie Stop’s icy dribbles and pet spiders all week, anything warm and critter-free would be just heavenly.

“Come on,” he says, carrying my suitcase.

We walk up the grand staircase, down a wide hallway on the second floor, and into a large bedroom on the right. He flicks on a light switch.

In the corner is a queen-size mattress lying directly on the floor, no bed frame, and covered in bedding that probably cost more than a month’s worth of rent on my old apartment. Beside the mattress is a small table stacked with books, a half-empty box of crackers, and a few papers.

Through the open double doors of the closet hangs a small collection of very expensive clothes and off to the side is a private bathroom, with an elaborate walk-in shower and separate garden tub.

Daren definitely lives in style—or used to, at least.

“Nice room,” I say. Then stare in confusion at the only window in the room. It’s above his bed and completely covered with cardboard.

He follows my gaze. “That’s so no one can tell someone’s inside the house when I have a light on in here.”

“Gotcha.” I nod then point to the books on the table. “You’re a reader?”

He nods. “Sometimes.”

“Huh.” I run a finger down the book spines. “What’s your favorite book?”

He smiles sheepishly. “All those are pretty good. But my favorite book of all time is actually a children’s book called Holes.”

“Really? Why is that?”

He lifts a shoulder. “I don’t know. It’s about this kid who has a bunch of bad things happen to him even though he didn’t do anything wrong. I guess I sympathize with that or something.”

I study him for a moment, surprised by his confession, and then look around. “You don’t own a copy of Holes?”

His expression looks strained for a brief second. “Uh… I used to, but not anymore.”

I want to ask why, but the shadows in his eyes make me hesitate. My breath catches as my eyes drift to a velvet-lined box on the small table. Inside is a tremendously ornate diamond necklace. It sparkles so brilliantly it almost looks like its own source of light. “What is that?”

Daren follows my gaze and picks up the shiny necklace. “This was my mother’s. My dad gave it to her for their anniversary when I was little.”

“It’s stunning,” I say in awe. “Is it real?”

“Oh yes. It’s real and worth a sick amount of money.” He looks at the diamonds. “Over the past few years, I’ve had to sell or pawn pretty much all of my family’s possessions. But I couldn’t let go of this.”

“Because it’s too valuable?” I nod.

“It’s more than that.” He swallows. “My parents weren’t really involved with me, you know, so most of my memories of them are really stoic. But the day my dad gave this necklace to my mom, she was elated. I’d never seen her in such a good mood. She pranced around the house all giddy. My dad turned on some music and the two of them started dancing in the living room, laughing and singing along with the song. I was seven at the time and had never seen them goof around like that so I couldn’t help but watch. My mom saw me spying on them and waved me over. I ran to their arms and the three of us danced together in the living room like a happy family. It’s the best memory I have of my parents. And it was all because of this necklace.” He chuckles and shakes his head. “I know it seems crazy because I could probably sell this thing and pay off most of Connor’s medical bills. But I don’t know.” He looks at the sparkling stones. “I can’t bring myself to sacrifice my only souvenir of that day for money.”

Watching him, I feel a piece of my heart break off and deliver itself into Daren’s hands, permanently. He somehow got a hold on me and now it’s too late for me to wriggle free, even if I wanted to. Which I don’t.

“I like that you kept it,” I say.

He scans my face. “And I like that you like that.”

A beat passes.

“So why do you choose to stay here?” I ask, changing topics as I glide my eyes over his room. “Why not crash with one of your buddies?”

He shrugs and places the necklace back into the velvet casing. “Because even if they said I could stay for free, I’d still feel obligated to pay rent. Besides, most of my friends are snobs so I don’t really talk about my, uh, circumstances. I doubt they’d be very understanding if they knew how broke I was.”

“Then they’re not real friends,” I say, growing defensive on Daren’s behalf. He shouldn’t need to hide his circumstances in order to be accepted. “What about your many adoring lady friends? I’m sure they’re very understanding.”