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“Like what?”

“Tell him you’re not interested,” Kenzie says.

I type it fast and say it out loud as I do. “Hey. I’m not interested. Don’t text me again.”

“That’s robotic,” Paige says.

“Who cares? Just send it,” says Kenzie.

“I’m not going to explain myself,” I say.

Paige tilts her head. “Yeah, I guess. Okay. Hit send.”

I hit send with my heart racing and stare at the delivered message, wondering if he’s reading it right now.

“Give it to me,” Paige says. “I’ll block him for you.”

I hand it over, glad she’ll do it. She taps away and holds the phone out when she’s done. “This is your sign to be done with boys, Kylie. They’re all lying, cheating, manipulative assholes.”

“Yeah,” I mumble.

“He’s blocked.”

Kenzie breathes out. “Good. Now enough with stupid boys.”

Paige starts talking about Koda and how they’re just hooking up and having fun, nothing serious, and I zone out thinking about the fight in the kitchen and then his arms in the stairwell.

The day chugs along. Eventually we go get food. I invite Tessa, and she declines, like always. My phone sits in my back pocket like a weight the whole time, and I keep wondering whether Declan texted back, and I’ll never know.

When we get back to Corvin, the girls head up to four, and I walk down our hall. Our door opens ahead of me, and Tessa steps into the hall holding her shower caddy. At the same second, three doors down, Rafe comes out of 314 with his keys in his hand. Tessa steps back inside and the door clicks shut before I’m close enough to say hi. Rafe goes past me toward the stairs without looking up from his phone.

When I open our door, Tessa is standing in the middle of the room with the caddy still in her hand, shampoo sitting right on top.

“I forgot my shampoo,” she says, but she looks terrified.

“Are you okay?”

She lets out a little laugh. “Yeah, fine.”

“Okay,” I say, and she goes back out ten minutes later.

By ten, Tessa’s in bed going to sleep, because it’s late for Tessa, and the girls have gone upstairs. It hits me while I’m lying on my bed with my phone that I did exactly the thing I told Nash I wouldn’t do. I blocked Declan.

I fight myself for twenty minutes about whether to warn him. He’s the one who told me to do it, but I told him I wasn’t going to, and somehow that ends with me standing outside his door in my sleep shirt and leggings because I feel like I owe him the update. I hesitate, then close my eyes and knock.

Nothing. I check the time. It’s late, but not late enough for him to be asleep. I knock again.

I have the words ready this time. I blocked Declan. Greeley, whatever. I know what I said. I’m sorry.

The door opens, and I almost sigh in relief, and then my stomach sinks, because it isn’t Nash. It’s a girl with dark hair pulled up in a clip, wearing one of his shirts and nothing on her legs, barefoot and comfortable.

“Hi,” she says.

“Oh.” I can’t think of a single other word. I glance at the number on the door to make sure I have it right. I do. I look at her again. She’s beautiful.

Behind her, the room is dim, one desk lamp on, music playing low, and I can see the end of a bed, a pair of sneakers on the floor, and somebody’s leg.

“Are you looking for Rafe?” she says. “He’s not here.”