Two days later the house empties for the afternoon.
My parents take Alex’s parents into the city for a long business lunch and “a look at the new property.” They won’t be back until evening. That leaves the two of us alone under the same roof for the first time.
I plan to stay in my room with the door locked and a stack of theological essays I have no intention of finishing. I almost make it.
Almost.
I’m in the kitchen refilling my water bottle when the back door opens and Alex walks in from the yard, damp with sweat from a run, black shirt clinging to his chest, earbuds still in. He pulls them out when he sees me and goes still.
The air changes immediately.
I should leave. Every self-preserving instinct screams at me to walk straight past him and up the stairs. Instead I stand there
