I don’t park in front of her house—not when it’s this late. Even if I cut my headlights, I swear Vaughn has some sort of sixth sense for when I’m around.

It’s midnight. I have to be sneaky.

I kill the engine a few blocks down the suburban neighborhood street and just sit there for a second, watching the house in my rearview like it might disappear if I blink. I don’t really plan this shit out. I never do. I just end up here. Every time. Like gravity or muscle memory or some other excuse I can use later if she yells at me.

Her bedroom light’s still on. That’s half the reason I even try, but I’ve had such a shitty day I probably would’ve anyway. I need to see her.

It's too late for anything normal, too early for excuses. I rub a hand over my face and climb out of the car anyway, slamming the door a little too hard. The walk’s short, but cold. My hoodie’s damp, shoes squishing with every step—it started raining halfway through the show. I could’ve gone home. Could’ve showered. Slept, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to. Winter’s probably gonna make me shower as soon as she sees me anyway, though.

The side of her house is dark—porch light’s off, blinds pulled. Her window’s cracked like it always is, she tends to only close it when the temperature drops below freezing. I drag the trash bin over just enough to boost myself up onto the ledge, palms scraping against the siding as I pull myself through.

I hit the floor with a thud, too tired to be graceful and landing flat on my back.

Then—

“What the hell?!”

Yeah. That’s fair.

“Jesus, Des!” she hisses, sitting up in bed with her hair a mess and her glasses crooked, looking at me like I’m insane. Like this isn’t the second time this month. What? Her light was on. “You scared the shit out of me!”

I groan, rolling over onto my side. I hit the ground a bit harder than I thought I would. Sneaking into Winter’s house is pretty hit or miss, and I mean that literally. If I hit the rug I’m good, if I hit the cold, unforgiving hardwood floor I’ll need a minute.

I hear Winter shuffling around, and it’s about five seconds later that she’s peeking into my view frame, hands on her hips.

As soon as she’s next to me, she scrunches up her nose.

“You stink. Take a shower.”

Hell yeah. I can steal her clothes.

Winter’s sense of style is quite different from mine, but that’s almost what I like about it. She has enough weight to her that her clothes fit me fine, despite being half a foot shorter than I am, so this isn’t all that uncommon. It feels like a treat when I get to borrow something. Her clothes are always clean. They smell like lavender and something uniquely her.

“Deal,” I tell her. My hot water doesn’t work half the time, and she has so many products it’s ridiculous. I get a selection. I’m out of body wash at my old place, I’ve been using hand soap, but Winter? She probably has one for each scent in existence.

She doesn’t help me up because I’m gross, instead tossing me a shirt with flowers and fish on it. I think. It’s really swirly, colored blue with a navy neckline and hem. She also gives me pink My Little Pony pajama pants. I briefly contemplate asking to borrow underwear as well because it would be funny, but she goes back to what she was doing before I got here before I can do so. As soon as I see that it’s homework, I know I should shut up. She takes school seriously.

So, I take my shower. I take a long time, too, zoning out at the wall for most of it. Wondering what Vaughn might be up to. If he knocked on her door after I got in, since I probably made enough noise to cause a check in if he’s awake. I wonder if he’s awake.

When I step out of the shower I grab one of her decorative towels because I think decorative towels are stupid. Seriously—why does she forbid me from using them? They’re the softest ones she has. I wrap it around my waist and walk over to her mirror, gauging the state of my face. Most of my makeup is still on. I search through her medicine cabinet for makeup remover. It doesn’t take long to find it.

Finally, I can get Jane Doe off of me.

After I’ve slipped on Winter’s clothes, brushed my teeth with the toothbrush I keep here and washed my face with some product that probably wasn’t intended for that, I exit the bathroom. She glances up at me as I do so, scanning me head to toe, looking amused. I am covered in flowers and ponies, after all. I also have no makeup or jewelry on, which is a rare sight, even for her.

The only time I don’t bother reapplying when I’m out of my house is when I’m here—and only when I plan on staying the night. Which is almost never. It’s too risky, Vaughn doesn’t like it when I’m in his house. That’s why I sneak in half the time.

I’ve had a long day, though. Even being in Jane’s presence for five minutes is exhausting. Then I had to do a show. I feel like I’m gonna pass out any second, but it’s also difficult for me to be tired at night. I think I was destined to be nocturnal or something. I’ll need to wind down.

Winter knows that. She’s already putting her schoolwork away, which definitely means she’s done. She doesn’t prioritize anything over it, she takes her future seriously. Wow, that’s great timing.

“Wanna watch movies?” She asks me, and I can’t help the small but genuine smile that takes over my face. I would love to watch movies.

“Sure,” I say, shrugging like that didn’t reset my entire mood.

She turns on her TV and shuts off her lamp, choosing a random streaming network and selecting her profile. Then, the hunt for what to watch begins. Which will take forever where I’m involved, since I’m picky. It’s so hard to keep my interest in anything. I don’t think I’ve ever even finished a TV show.

“How about I choose something,” Winter begins suggesting, which immediately alleviates some stress. If it were up to me, we’d be looking for something to watch all night. I hate choices.

“…and you make the popcorn.”

I pause.

What?

We’ve had movie nights in the past and it’s always the other way around. Granted, Winter usually ends up doing both since—again—I’m the most indecisive person I know. Maybe she’s just trying to save time. I guess it would make sense for me to do that job. I just never have, because…

“What if he’s up?” I ask her, unable to help my visible aversion to the idea. I’ve barely been anywhere in her house aside from her bedroom. Vaughn’s never technically kicked me out, but he’ll do just about everything before that step to get me to leave. It’s not fun. All it does is remind me of how one sided what I feel is. He doesn’t even want to see me.

“He’s not,” she tells me dismissively, and I wonder how she’s so sure. “He went to bed really early. I think he has to be up at like five AM or something. He’s not gonna hear you.”

Okay. Well, that makes me feel better. I wonder why he’s been having such early days, lately. Are they understaffed at his shop? That’s the only reason he’d be working so much extra, right? This is a pretty blue collar area, though. Would it really be that difficult to staff mechanics?

Whatever. I don’t care. Not my problem, I’m not even concerned if he’s been taking care of himself or if he’s stressed or if I’m right. I’m not even thinking about it.

That successfully convinces me I’m in the clear. That man sleeps like a fucking rock. Winter literally yelled at me when I snuck in and he obviously didn’t hear.

So, I shrug. “Where is it?”

“Cabinet over the fridge.”

I nod, turning around and opening the door, exiting her bedroom into a darkened hallway. There’s a bit of light, leaking in since the kitchen appears to be illuminated at the moment. I don’t hear any movement, though, so one of them had to have just accidentally left the light on. Vaughn did go to bed early, after all. There may have still been daylight, so I doubt he’d notice.

I hum quietly as I walk down the hallway, and it takes a second for me to even realize what song it is. I always have one stuck in my head, without fail. I had to blast music all the way here to get the stupid Halloween songs out of my mind. I don’t even know where they come from half the time though, I haven’t listened to this one in a while.

“And if you don’t love me now,” I sing Fleetwood Mac absentmindedly under my breath as I descend the stairs quietly. I probably shouldn’t be singing like this, even if I am doing so quietly. I’m doing everything quietly. Ugh, why am I so worried? He’s asleep. I’m not going to wake him by humming a song on an entirely different floor. You can be normal, Des. You can be yourself, there’s nobody around. It’s okay.

“You will never love me again,” I reach the floor a second later, before entering the kitchen situated only a room away, close to the front door. I immediately spot the fridge.

“I can still hear you sayin’…” I continue, slightly louder since there’s no way anybody is hearing me right now. I stop in front of the fridge, crossing my arms when I realize it’s tall. Taller than me. There’s no hope of me reaching that cabinet. Shit, am I gonna have to climb?

“You would never break the chain.”

Whatever. I’ll just climb.

“Did you need something?”

I basically jump out of my skin.

I’m so glad I’m not fucking strapped at the moment or this person would genuinely be in danger. Ok, maybe not, I’m a lot less trigger happy and paranoid now than I was as a teenager, but still. I immediately spin around, stumbling into the fridge.

As soon as my eyes land on Vaughn Torres in all his shirtless, groggy, mildly annoyed glory, I genuinely fear I might pass out. He has on his stupid dad glasses, his ridiculous navy blue lounge pants, his perfect mussed up hair—

I have to look away. I’m scared of what I’ll do if I don’t. Shirtless?!

This isn’t fair. How did this day get so much better and then so much worse in such a quick timespan? Usually I only see him shirtless when he’s sweaty and fixing a car or performing house maintenance or something. Which, don’t get me wrong, he looks perfect no matter what state he’s in.

This is different, though. This… this feels intimate.

God, I’m delusional. What am I thinking? All I can do is stare at the floor, wondering what the fuck I should even say.

He takes a step toward me.

Oh my god. Oh my god. He’s gonna kick me out, I know it. I broke like every single one of his house rules, I’m done.

“I’m, I was— uh…” my voice is unsteady. My face feels warm. Shit, I need to think about dead bodies or Pierce or something to calm myself down. This is way too much. All I wanted was to come here after the day I had, and now I’ll definitely have to leave. We could’ve done without the stupid fucking popcorn. “Just leaving. Sorry.”

I need to get the fuck out of here. I’ll just text Winter what happened or something. As soon as I move, however, Vaughn takes a step toward me. I stop immediately.

That’s not good.

“You usually stand in the middle of my kitchen when you’re just leaving?”

Fuck. He has a point. How can he even be so sure, though? Maybe I was leaving. Unless… how long has he been there? What all did he see?

Vaughn has now entered the kitchen, previously standing the doorway. He is blocking the only exit that isn’t the garage door, which I can’t go through because the garage is closed and I don’t know which button does what. He’d definitely catch me in time. I can hear my heartbeat in my ears.

At this point, I just need to tell him the truth.