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Moving things around for her makes absolutely no sense.

I already know I’m going to do it anyway.

“You really don’t have to do that,” Blair says. “I can find another way.”

“I know,” I reply.

She turns toward me, surprise flashing across her face.

At least, I think it’s surprise.

I barely know her. I shouldn’t be trying to work out what every expression means.

“I don’t want you going out of your way for me,” she says quietly.

“It’s fine,” I assure her. “A few adjustments won’t take long.”

It’s vague enough to be true.

Blair watches me for another second before relaxing into the seat.

“Thank you, Dean,” she says.

The sound of my name in her voice does something uncomfortable to my chest.

I tighten my hands around the steering wheel.

“That’s what people do here,” I tell her. “We help each other.”

At least, that’s what I’m telling myself.

Because this has nothing to do with the way she smells. Or the way her whole face changes when she smiles. Or the fact that leaving her stranded doesn’t sit right with me.

I’m being neighborly.

That’s it.

Nothing more.

* * *

“This is me,” Blair says, pointing toward the white cottage beside Georgie’s.

I pull into the driveway and look between the two houses.

“You live next door to G?” I ask, surprised.

“Yep, apparently.” Blair smiles as she reaches for her bag. “I found out this morning when she woke me up fighting a raccoon with a broom.”

I glance toward Georgie’s house. “Did she win?”

“Absolutely not,” Blair replies with a giggle. “The raccoon waited until she went inside, then casually walked away.”

Fuck me.

The sound of her laugh is like music to my ears. I want to say something else just to hear it again.

“That sounds about right,” I tell her.