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When his brown eyes lose their usual warmth, and sadness settles behind them, the sight hits me hard enough to twist my stomach into knots. I wish I’d kept my mouth shut. I don’t want his pity. I don’t need it. And I definitely don’t need him on my case for things I can’t control. If I’d known this was how he was going to react, I never would’ve agreed to this study date in the first place.

“Fine. I can’t do anything about your dad’s job or the fact that he leaves you alone in this house for days on end. But I can damn well fix a fucking thermostat.” He glances around. “Where’s your toolbox?”

“You’re kidding, right? I don’t have a toolbox.”

He lets out another long breath, drops his school bag onto the couch, and brushes past me.

“Where the hell are you going?”

“What does it look like? I’m going to get a damn toolbox and be your knight in shining armor!” he calls over his shoulder.

I shake my head because the boy is impossible.

Knight in shining armor… as if.

I don’t need anyone to come to my rescue. And I sure as shit don’t need Golden Boy Milo Fletcher trying to save me from some imaginary danger he’s concocted in his head.

So it’s a little cold in here. So what? Nothing a good winter coat, a thick duvet, and some hot cocoa can’t fix. Like I said, he’s making a mountain out of a molehill.

True to his word, ten minutes later, Milo returns with a toolbox. But he doesn’t come back alone.

“Hi, Maxine.” Paul Fletcher smiles as he steps into my living room. “My kid here says you have a thermostat problem.”

“I also said I had it covered,” Milo grumbles beside him.

“I’m sure you would have, but why not let me take a crack at it first?” Paul says to Milo before winking at me. “Show me the way, Maxine.”

Since it seems I don’t have much say in the matter, I lead them to the thermostat on the wall in the hallway between the living room and kitchen. Paul removes the cover, studies it for a few seconds, then chuckles under his breath.

“Well, there’s your problem. The relay’s shot.”

“You can tell that just by looking at it?” Milo asks, leaning in to inspect the thermostat for himself.

“Comes with doing this sort of work for over twenty years,” his father answers as he replaces the cover and dusts off his hands. “Lucky for you, I’m pretty sure I’ve got a spare thermostat sitting in my garage. Give me twenty minutes.”

“Really?” I ask, unable to hide my surprise at how easy it is to repair.

“Really.” He smiles. “Sometimes being a pack rat pays off.”

Before I can thank him, Paul is already heading back out the front door.

“I could’ve done it,” Milo mutters once his dad is out of earshot, clearly not thrilled that Paul stole his thunder.

“Don’t even sweat it. You can be my knight in shining armor some other time.”

“Yeah?” His face lights up as if I just handed him the greatest gift in the world.

My heart does this stupid little jump that I quickly smother before Milo can see what that look does to me.

“Do you need any help, Mr. Fletcher?” I call after him instead, seeking a little distance from his son and those damn expressive eyes of his.

“No need to trouble yourself, Maxine,” Paul calls back from the porch. “I’ll have the new one installed before you know it.”

Sure enough, less than half an hour later, Paul is tightening the last screw into the brand-new-looking thermostat.

“There.” He presses a few buttons before smiling in satisfaction. “Give it ten or fifteen minutes, and this place should start warming up nicely.”

I stare at the dial on the wall in amazement before looking back at him. I can’t quite wrap my head around the fact that something my dad would’ve put off for months took Paul less than an hour to fix.