Page 32

“Good.” He returns my keys, and I drop them in my bag.

With a hand at the small of my back, he leads me down the steps and along the sidewalk toward his house, not releasing me until we reach his front door.

When he opens it, warm air greets me, carrying the faint scent of woodsmoke and something clean, like laundry detergent. I step inside and brace a hand on the wall as I unzip my boots and leave them in the foyer before following Joshua into the living room, scanning the space that feels familiar and foreign at the same time.

“It looks different than I remember.”

“You probably haven’t been in here in, what, fifteen years?”

“Sounds about right.” I wander farther inside, pausing at the coffee table. “But this is the same.” I trail my fingers along the smooth edge, laughing when I notice a dark, circular burn mark on one corner. “Right down to this. If I recall correctly, you and Bennett decided to roast s’mores in the fireplace, but one of the marshmallows caught fire, so you flung it across the room. It landed here.”

He throws his head back, his laugh filling the space. I shouldn’t find the sound as sexy as I do, but that low rumble hits me in places I forgot existed.

“We were idiots back then,” Joshua remarks.

“It’s a miracle you didn’t burn down the house. Or die.”

“We certainly made quite a few questionable decisions.”

“Everyone does when they’re young. And when they’re grown, too.”

“That’s for sure.”

I give him a small smile and keep looking around. While I may not know Joshua all that well, this doesn’t look like a house that belongs to a man in his twenties, especially with the photos crowding the built-in shelves. Every one is of him, at every age.

I doubt he put these on display. It must have been his mom.

I walk toward them, curious what Joshua was like between the time I left for college and now. How he went from the lanky boy I remember to the man standing mere inches away.

The photos make it look like he grew into this person overnight. In one photo, he’s scrawny and awkward, his mouth full of braces. The next, his shoulders are broader, his jaw sharper, his face sporting a bit of scruff. And the next, any hint of the boy he was disappears completely, a man taking his place.

“I’m not a narcissist or anything.”

I spin to face Joshua. “Wha⁠—”

He nods at the pictures. “I haven’t changed much in here since Mom passed away.”

“That’s understandable,” I reply with a sad smile, unsure what else to say.

“The guest room is upstairs in case you forgot.”

I take that as a hint that he doesn’t want me snooping through his house.

“Thanks.”

He moves toward the staircase just off the living room and starts up it. I grip the railing as I follow, purposely avoiding looking at his backside, especially the way his jeans fall so perfectly from his hips.

I definitely do not look. Not at all.

When we reach the top, he heads down the hallway, pausing outside one of the doors and flipping on the light.

“Hope this is okay.”

The last time I was here, this was a game room. Now it’s just a typical bedroom.

“The bathroom is just through there.” He points toward a door by the dresser. “Help yourself to anything you need. There are towels and even a few toothbrushes and toothpaste. Not because I have overnight guests often,” he adds quickly. “I can’t remember the last time someone else stayed in this house. But I use an electric toothbrush and don’t need the ones I get every time I go to the dentist, so I just put them in here.” He huffs a laugh as he runs a hand through his dark hair. “And that’s probably more information than you really need.”

“Good dental hygiene is important.”