What?

I pull back enough to see her face, but she’s still burrowed into my neck. “Hey,” I say, and reach up to tilt her chin so that she’s facing me. “What are you talking about, baby?”

“I’m turning into her,” she says. “I’m doing the same thing she did.”

“Baby,” I say, reaching up and cupping her face in my hands. She’s actually shaking in my arms, and it’s freaking me the fuck out. “You’re not turning into your mom. You’re trying to get rid of stuff. That’s the opposite of what she did.”

“You don’t understand.” There are tears in her eyes now. “I’ve done research into this, okay? Into hoarding. It’s a mental disorder, and it all starts with the mentality. The idea of saving stuff that isn’t useful, but convincing yourself that it is. It’s saving stuff even if it’s not useful to you, you convince yourself that it can be useful for someone else.”

“Hey. Hey,” I say, leaning over to press a kiss against her mouth before she can say anything else. “Listen to me.” I rub the tears that have leaked from her eyes away with my thumbs as I look down into her eyes. Goddamn, she’s beautiful. “You’re not like your mom, okay? This stuff you’re giving away? It’s good. You’re doing good. Maisie and the baby need this stuff. It’s not like you’re going out and buying everything and keeping it forever. You’re trying to get rid of stuff, and you’ve found someone that needs what you have. This is fucking generosity, baby. It’s not hoarding. And trust me—” I give her a little smirk because I know she fucking loves it “—after working on this with you, I’m pretty sure I can pick out the signs of hoarding. If you start showing them, I’m going to fucking tell you, okay?” I tug her close again, rubbing my hands up and down her back.

She nods against my shoulder. “Okay,” she whispers.

“Okay.”

Chapter 17

Ash

Holy shit.

Holy.

Fucking.

Shit.

It’s a car.

And it’s not just any car. It’s a fucking 1967 Pontiac Le Mans Coupe.

I’m in love.

I don’t care what anyone says. The 1967 Pontiac Le Mans Coupe was the shit, and yeah, this one is barely a skeleton of one, but it has the potential to be amazing if someone put a little effort into her. God, I can just picture it. Clean up that engine, new tires, fresh coat of paint. Cherry red. Or maybe blue. Damn, this thing would be amazing.

I can’t believe it’s just been sitting here, all this time.

I’m still holding the edge of the tarp in my hand when Star sidles up behind me. Her brow’s all furrowed, little wrinkles between her eyes.

“What’s the matter?” she asks.

Matter?

Oh. Right.

So maybe my mental outburst wasn’t as strictly mental as I thought.

“Sorry. Nothing’s wrong. Did you know about this?” I can’t imagine she did, or she would have put the garage at the top of her little list. Even without fixing it up, this thing’s probably worth some money.

“What is it?” she asks, and takes a step closer. I pull the tarp up higher so that she can see. But when she looks, there’s no recognition playing across her face, so I’m gonna have to fill in the blanks.

“This,” I say, tossing the tarp back to reveal as much of the car as possible, “is a 1967 Pontiac Le Mans Coupe.” My voice gets louder and louder with every word, but I can’t seem to stop it. I’m just so fucking excited. This is an amazing find. I can’t believe Star’s mom had this in here.

“You’re really excited about this,” she says, a little smile spreading across her face.

“This is a fucking cherry ride, babe,” I tell her. “This is amazing.”

“Do you think it’s worth anything?” She looks back down at it, but she’s pressing her tight little body up against me, and I grin and wrap my arm around her and tug her closer. She’s all warm, and my fingertips sneak under the hem of her tank top, stroking the smooth skin of her belly. She twists a little under my hold, squirming against me, and I grin. My girl is ticklish. Good to know.

“It’s gotta be,” I tell her. “I don’t know how much or anything, but I think I can find out.” I might be able to track down Mr. Bremner, my old auto-shop teacher. Everything I knew about cars, I learned from that man. He might even be able to help Star find a buyer. The thought of letting such a sweet ride go kind of sucks, but what can I do? It’s not like I have any money, and I know Star’s bank account is pretty much burned out. So even though I have visions in my mind of fixing it up myself, when it comes down to it, it’s her car. And it’s her choice. So I tell her I’ll try to give Mr. Bremner a call. She smiles at me in return, and presses her lips against mine before turning and heading back into the house.

I watch her go, her hips swaying to and fro as she moves, and all I can think about it how hot she’d look sitting in the Le Mans after it’s all fixed up.

Not gonna happen, I remind myself, and turn back to the open garage. You’ve got less than a month left with that girl, then it’s gonna be a wave in the rearview mirror and a thanks for the memories. She isn’t gonna stick around and wait for your dumb ass to be able to treat her right. You’re lucky you got as far with her as you did.

Grimacing, I kick out in frustration and send a grocery bag full of grocery bags out of the way.

I only have a few weeks left with Star max. I have to make them count.

Now I just have to figure out how the fuck to do that.

Star

I had to go all the way across Avenue to find the tea shop Maisie had told me about when we’d dropped off the diapers, the one with the good Wi-Fi. But it’s so worth it. I have my laptop out, full bars on my Wi-Fi, and a steaming hot cup of caramel-flavored tea by my side, so decadent and rich that I think Maisie was right about the whole tea-is-just-as-good-as-coffee thing after all. I take a sip and the warmth flows through me, and I sink down into my seat happily, letting my eyes flutter shut.

I feel like I’m back at college.

I’ve missed this feeling so much.

But at the same time, it just reminds me how soon the summer is ending. How close I am to losing Ash. God, I think, reaching up and running my hands through my hair, what the hell am I going to do?

I miss college like crazy, and I have to go back. But leaving Ash behind . . . Just the thought of it makes my chest ache.

I need to figure out what I am going to do. What even are my options? Do I just go back to school? Do I try to transfer somewhere closer? Do I ask Ash what he wants? I want to stay, but I don’t even know if that’s possible. I can’t take time off without losing my scholarship. And without the scholarship, I can’t finish college.

Does he even want to continue with . . . things? I don’t even know what to call it. We’ve barely talked about it. Our relationship has changed surprisingly little. It’s the same as before, that easy friendship, that underlying attraction. Except now, there’s sex. And not only that. There’s . . . affection. There’s a warmth to how Ash treats me, and it builds something up inside me. I’m not sure I can let that go.

I only have a month of the summer left. I need to figure things out. And honestly, I have no idea what I’m going to do.