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Rather than answer, I just hold out my hands. “I’ll take those back now.”

He glances down, eyeing the red marks which still embed my fingers from the weight of the bags, then finds my face again, giving a small smile. “I’m Josten.”

“Cool,” I answer unexpressively, still waiting for him to pass over my things.

“And you are…?” Josten prompts, dragging out the question.

Crossing my arms, I put all of my weight to one side, eyeing him skeptically. “Sumner.”

“Sumner. Great name. Nice to meet you. So, where to?” He lifts the bags.

“I said I don’t need your help.”

“I’m not helping. I’m just…picking things up that happen to be on the ground and carrying them in the direction you happen to be going.”

My focus on him narrows. “That’s literally the definition of helping.”

Josten only shrugs. “Guess I’m bad with definitions.”

He stands there, waiting patiently, not pushing or rushing me. There is a gentle presence about him. Something that makes him feel safe. Safer, at least, than the neighbor I’m going back to. That psycho knowing where I’m staying has to be worse than letting this guy carry my things for me.

Or maybe that’s my dead arms talking.

After a long pause, I finally give in, lazily pointing in the direction we need to go.

I let my guard down just enough that we fall into conversation. He’s like a whirlwind. With each step, he practically bounces off the ground, a need for constant movement. Even his gestures are animated, his full arms waving with excitement. Each word tumbles out in a rapid-fire succession, brimming with enthusiasm and a genuine joy that’s honestly infectious. I even find myself laughing with him, something I don’t think I’ve done since I’ve been here.

We finally make our way into the guest house. Josten, after first asking for permission to enter, tosses the bags of clothes on the couch for me to go through later, then hauls the food to the kitchen.

“Thanks,” I tell him, unloading everything into the fridge.

“Of course.” He helps himself to a cookie from the table. “Call it my apology for not so gracefully crashing into you.”

Smiling, I reach for my pendant, a crushing wave at the center of my chest when I find the place bare. I feel so naked without my necklace. So vulnerable.

“Looks like the stray found a puppy,” Rhenn says, appearing in the doorway. Why haven’t I closed that yet?

Josten pulls himself onto the counter, swinging his legs back and forth. “Or did the puppy find her?”

The man at the door looks less than amused with Josten’s cheery attitude.

“I don’t remember inviting you over,” I say, finishing with the last of the groceries.

“It’s my house.”

I bite my tongue, hating the truth of that statement. This is his home and he’s just letting me stay here. God knows why. I’m fairly certain he hates me.

“Anyway,” he continues, “we’re going to the cove tonight. Dress to swim.”

“No thanks.”

“I wasn’t asking.”

“Are you going to make me?”

“Am I going to have to?” He looks at me, expression blank. I glance at Josten, who raises his hands as if to say this isn’t his fight.

“Fine. I’m not swimming though.”