His forehead creased. That wasn’t exactly a Brit thing to do and he knew it, but I felt like I needed some distance to clear my head of all of these thoughts.

“I’ll go with you,” he said. He looked down at his phone again, then back at me, his face conflicted. “Just gimme ten.”

“It’s okay, Nick.” I grabbed my Y’all bag and left before he could say anything else.

My stomach was a rock when the train pulled into Penn Station. We gathered our bags and deboarded, struggling to stay side by side in the crush of people. Nick had been staring at his phone the whole trip, his hand clenched around mine, but his eyes on that damn screen. I wanted to ask him about his work, what had him so worried, but I kept chickening out. Afraid I’d see the excuse.

Oh, for God’s sake.This is why this happens, Brit. You’re acting needy after a day of being together. Or whatever we were. I was doing the same thing I’d done last night, making up a story in my head.

I knew there was another piece to the wall I felt between us and it was my fault. I had to tell him about losing the auction. Last night I’d let every one of my insecurities show and he’d told me it was fine with his hands and his mouth and the way he’d held me while I slept. He’d told me he didn’t mind that I’d gotten weird on him.

I could tell him. I was stupid not to. We needed to figure out where to go from here, me and him, and I had to be honest if we were going to be together. “Nick—”

“How long is your drive?”

I swallowed. “Over three hours. You?”

“Half that.” He rubbed the back of his head, avoiding my eyes.

We reached the desk for the shuttle to the parking garage and he turned to me. His eyes were full of remorse and I started to sweat. He cupped my cheek. “Brit, I—”

“Don’t go home, Nick.” My fingers curled into the front of his shirt. “Come to Boston with me. Get in my car and we’ll just go.”

His brows slashed inward. “You know I can’t do that.”

“Then let’s go somewhere else. Anywhere.”

“I told you I have to get home, Brit.” His voice was soft, placating. “You have to be home too. You just bought a house.”

I shook my head, suddenly feeling manic, like I was trying to hold a gallon of water in the cup of my hands. “I didn’t, actually.”

“What?”

“The auction. I didn’t get the house, Nick. There’s no reason for me to go home.”

His jaw fell open. “You lost the house? When?”

“My father, he . . . There was a hiccup with the funds. It doesn’t matter. The house isn’t mine. I have no reason to go back to Boston. I could come to Philly. With you.”

He huffed a laugh and I felt something crack inside my chest. “I don’t even want to go to Philly.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Brit, it’s not a good time.”

“Okay, well, maybe in a couple of weeks,” I said. “I could fly out.”

He swallowed, his eyes darting between the ground and somewhere over my shoulder. “I just need a little time to try to get my head above water,” he said. “At work.”

“How long?”

“I don’t know if I can answer that yet. We’ll figure this out, though. I’ll call you as soon as I get home, and I’ll see you as soon as I can.”

“You’ll see me as soon as you can,” I repeated, my voice robotic. “Okay. Yeah, I guess I’ll see you around, Nick.”

I tried to turn away but he caught my wrist. “Come on. It’s not a line, Brit.” He pulled me closer, pushing his hands into my hair and my body went warm for him, betraying me. “Some things have come up that I need to take care of. That’s all.”

His voice was desperate but so was I. I’d already lost my house and the one thing I still had out of this whole experience was Nick. The chewy center in all the hard, like Annie had said.

Except apparently he didn’t want me too close.

I couldn’t wrap my hopes around one more thing that would turn to dust. I didn’t have it in me. I pushed off of his chest. “It’s fine . . .”