Page 67 of The Road Less Traveled By

“Thanks, sis.”For bringing Nellie back. For the advice. For raising me even though you were just a kid yourself.

“You’re welcome,” she says, bringing me in for a hug. “You better come visit Seattle soon, or Max is going to think you went and got yourself killed.”

“As soon as I’m done here, I’ll come visit.”

“Maybe the two of you can?” she questions, and I don't say a word as she gets into the car and is out of sight. I take in the scenery around me and breathe in the cool mountain air before I head back inside.

“So, what are you feeling for lunch? There’s a bunch of stuff—” I stop speaking when I notice Bree isn't sitting in the spot where she used to be. She probably retreated back to her room based on the note she left me on the counter.

Appetite diminished again. It was nice meeting Aria. You two look a lot alike.

I sigh heavily before Nellie comes over to me and licks my hand where I lean against the counter.

“Don’t worry, girl. We’ll help Bree. We just have to give her a little time, that’s all.” I begin to make lunch, and when I’m finished, I place a plate in the fridge, wrapped in plastic, just in case.

— IF I GO, I’M GOIN BY GREGORY ALAN ISAKOV

As I reread thesame paragraph for the fifteenth time on my Kindle, Vince knocks on my door and steps into my room. “Can I come in?”

“Aren't you already in my room? That question seems redundant.”

That makes his mouth lift up, but only in one corner. “Do you want to play cards with me? Normally, I play blackjack, but it’s not that fun when I play it on my own.”

“Sure. Downstairs?”

He nods at me before I get out of bed, throw my blanket over my shoulder, and head to the living room. I hear the fireplace crackling before I reach the bottom, and when I get fully into the room, a blast of heat hits my face, and I instantly relax. This house can only be described as cozy. It feels like I’ve been transported to another world here, and part of me feels selfish for never wanting to leave it.

I don't want to go back to reality where I feel like I’m being eaten alive. I don't want to go back to where I’m scared of what’s around every corner. I want to hide away somewhere, like Rapunzel in her tower, where nothing bad can ever touch me or anyone I care about again.

I’ve barely left my room the past few days, except earlier when I heard murmured voices, and when I got down to the kitchen, Vince’s sister wasnotwho I was expecting. I thought Nico had come up to give Vince an update, but apparently, Vince has a dog I didn't know about.

Nellie is asleep right in front of the fireplace, and she might be one of the cutest dogs I’ve ever seen. I never imagined Vince being a dog dad, and somehow, that makes him even hotter.

He’s protective of me.Because it’s his job.

He dropped everything to come back for me.Because it’s his job.

He has a dog.Because he probably likes animals more than people.

“Bree? Are you in there?” he says as he looks over at me from where he sits on the couch.

“Sorry,” I say as I make my way over to the couch and sit next to him, leaving enough room between us so our cards will fit. “What are we playing?”

“I figured War is a good place to start. Do you know how to play?”

I nod at him. “Liv and I used to play cards all the time as kids. She wasn't very good, though. I seemed to have all the luck.”

“Well, buckle up, Hart. You might meet your match tonight,” he jokes, and I can’t help but let out a soft laugh.

He deals out all the cards, and the two of us play for a bit, mostly evenly matched as we run out of cards and have to create our next pile.

“I’m worried about you.”

Vince’s candor surprises me, but he was never one to beat around the bush. “It’s your job to worry about me, Vince.”

“Yeah, it is.” I hear him sigh heavily. “But lately, it hasn't beenjustmy job.”

He can’t possibly be saying what I think he is, but the rush of knots in my stomach tells me otherwise. I try to focus on anything else but how weird I’m feeling—the fireplace, the low light in the room, the breeze blowing outside—but nothing is working. Because when I look at Vince and see the soft glow of the fire illuminating his face, the gut punch is even harder than the first time. “I heard what your sister said.”

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