Chapter 17

Noah shows up at my door like he’s rehearsed it: hands visible, shoulders loose, voice low. “Avery, we need to talk.” Underneath the words, his mind is already here, inside my living room. Don’t slam the door. Please don’t slam the door. If she doesn’t hear all of it, she’ll never trust me. And I need her to trust me. Just this once. I should slam it anyway. I should deadbolt him out of my life and my head. Instead, I step aside. “Five minutes,” I say. My throat’s dry....