I saw where this was going. “You proposed so she could stay?”

“Yes. We lasted eight months before we broke up. She missed her family in Denmark and felt as if my American ways were sexist. It has been six months since she left.”

Studying his face, I tried to interpret his elusive emotions. While I didn’t want to know if he still loved her, my heart needed to.

“Are you….” I gulped. “Do you still have feelings for her?”

“Do I?”

It was as if he was asking the question to himself. Tipping his chin to the glass ceiling, my pulse hammered. A beat passed, then another, and another. Our relationship’s future depended on his answer. While I would be shattered if he said yes, I would survive. I always did. Nonetheless, my toes and fingers crossed as I waited for Andrew to speak.

A magnificent smile split apart his cheeks. “No, I don’t.” Relief flooded his words. “I don’t at all. We were ill matched. Traveling around together, everything was new. We built a life on that newness but once Camilla came here, she was a mismatched puzzle piece. I loved the idea of her but I don’t think I ever loved her.” He looked over at me, his eyes searching. “Does that make sense?”

“Perfect sense.”

Andrew gathered me into his arms. I snuggled into his side and my head rested against his chest. His heart beat in rhythm with mine.

“I’m all yours, Haven,” Andrew said. “Heart, body, and soul. I’m yours.”

I squinted against the harsh assault of sunlight. Rolling onto my side, Andrew’s eyelashes fluttered against his cheek as he slept peacefully. We hadn’t gone to bed until late last night after he’d made good on his promise. We had sex underneath a blanket of stars and on top of a mound of pillows. I couldn’t believe he was mine. A thousand butterfly wings flapped in my stomach. Hearing the story about what happened between Camilla and him wasn’t what I expected. Honestly, Matthew had made it sound as if she died in a horrific crash, when they’d broken up because of a cultural divide. That was easier to swallow. Also, it helped she was a million miles away in Denmark and couldn’t pop by at a moment’s notice. Could you imagine? That would be awkward. Andrew’s arm flung over my stomach as he mumbled. He smelled like sex and laundry detergent. Gently shoving him off of me, my feet hit the cold hardwood floors.

He yanked me back to his chest. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“I have to take a shower.”

“What kind of shower? Dirty or clean?”

“You’re insatiable. We have already done it three ways to Sunday.”

“I think you mean six ways to Sunday,” he corrected.

“Whatever.”

His erection was visible through his basketball shorts. I itched to feel him in my mouth. My tongue licking him like an ice cream cone. Andrew had ignited a 24/7 sex vixen

I shot him a devilish smirk. “Come on, let’s go wash away our sins.”

He fist bumped the air, jumped out of bed and threw me over his shoulder. I squealed as he smacked my ass. Running into the bathroom, he put me down. Andrew adjusted the shower to the ideal temperature while my clothes fell away. Steam enveloped the space.

“I feel like I’m in a porno,” I said.

Andrew’s gaze darkened as he turned around. “This is better than a porno because it’s real.”

I couldn’t disagree. For the next twenty minutes or so, we ruined the entire concept of a shower and got more dirty than clean. By the end, my legs felt like Jell-O and I had twenty minutes until I had to drop off the money to Big Ted. Towel drying my hair, I changed into a pair of slacks and a shirt. I look like I’m going to an interview at a bank.

Andrew smoothed his hands down my arms. “Are you nervous?”

“I wasn’t until you said something.”

“Sorry.” He placed a kiss on top of my head. “I’m going to make coffee. I’ll be in the kitchen when you’re ready.”

My hand shook as I applied mascara, getting black smudge on my eyelid. Flinging the wand across the room in frustration, I inhaled, counted to three and exhaled. It helped a little.

48204 was considered one of the top most dangerous zip codes in the United States and once my home. In the in-between periods when my mom didn’t have a sugar daddy, we’d lived on the top floor of a crumbling Victorian. Instead of imaginary friends, I had rats that lived in the walls. They were a family with a single dad and his two daughters. Hector, Luanne, and Lucy. Big Ted lived in the apartment two doors down. Swapping drugs was the equivalent of borrowing a cup of sugar. For my mom, it was the ideal set up. For me, it was a house of horrors. I used to think the shadows dancing on the walls were monsters, waiting until my eyes closed to eat me. My saving grace was Monica. We’d met in third grade when she let me borrow her crayons because she thought the clouds I was drawing weren’t pink enough. We were attached from the hip from that day forward. Adopting her home as mine, Monica’s grandmother basically treated me as her own granddaughter. I left home at the age of seventeen and hadn’t been back to my neighborhood since. The homeless shelters, Monica’s house, and street benches were on the other side of the 39 freeways. Far away from 1936 Rosemary Lane.

Adding a swipe of blush, I twisted my hair into a knot. The mirror reflected a scared little girl whose tough exterior was crumbling. Since moving into Andrew’s, the need to put on an act wasn’t as dire anymore. He knew who I was and liked me all the same. Nonetheless, that mask was essential to surviving this money drop off. I slipped it on. My features hardened, my eyes became flat, and my lips thinned. Shaking out my shoulders like a boxer preparing to battle, I psyched myself up. There was no other choice. Sumiko depended on me. Once my armor felt locked into place, I walked into the kitchen. Andrew had poured coffee into a thermos and set a blueberry muffin on a plate. While normally my appetite was a black hole, my stomach couldn’t handle anything at the moment.

Andrew handed me the thermos. “We should get going.”

“Yeah, we should.” Yet my feet wouldn’t move.

“This is a simple job, Haven. You give the money to Big Ted and leave. Then this whole thing will be behind you.”

“Will it though?” My eyebrow arched. “What if this is just a ploy to shake me for more money? I give him this check and then what? Walk away? Nothing is that simple.”

“I don’t know how to reassure you because your past and the people attached won’t go away. Physically maybe, but not mentally. That’s a whole other battle you have to fight. Just know that I’ve got your back.”

Gratefulness wrapped me in its embrace as I looked at Andrew. “Thank you.”

“Anytime.”

I unscrewed the top of the thermos and drank deeply. Wiping my hand across my mouth, the smooth acidic taste of coffee lingered on my tongue. Since it was too early for a shot of tequila, liquid courage in the form of caffeine would have to do.

I nodded. “Ok, let’s go.”

Andrew’s car roared to life and before I could let doubt creep in, we drove head first into my childhood.

The neighborhood hadn’t changed a bit. Houses that were skeletons of their former selves loomed over the streets, paint peeling off in ribbons. The crater-sized holes I almost killed myself riding my bike over weren’t fixed and the lawns weirdly green as ever.

Slowing to a crawl, Andrew peered out the window. “Which one is it?”

“It should be up ahead to your left.”

My hands knotted in my lap while nerves tumbled in my stomach. I hoped Big Ted met me outside. I didn’t want to go inside that rat infested shit hole called an apartment building unless necessary. Did Sumiko live there now? I hoped not, however, addicts stayed wherever the drugs were.