Oh thank God. My heart is racing. I’m relieved when I hear the click. I sink down onto my chair and take several rapid breaths to compose myself.

I stare at the kitchen, trying to remember what I came in here for. Find a pen, Chrissie. Write a note to the incredibly rude van owner. I reach into the drawer behind me and pull out a notepad.

I stare at the paper, tapping my pen. I know what Rene would write. Stay out of my spot mother fucker or you’re toast. But that’s not me. I tap the pen again. I write: Please don’t make me have you towed. Park somewhere else. Thank you.

I toss the notepad back into the drawer and grab the tape. I’m going to tape it on his windshield so it doesn’t blow away.

At the front door, I pull on my UGG boots, grab the house key, and make my way to the elevator and then the ground floor. Outside, I run a hand up and down my arm. It’s suddenly gotten chilly. I should have grabbed a sweater.

As I near the van, I pull a nice length of tape off the roll. I pass between cars to get to the windshield. I hear a sound. I freeze.

Crap, somebody is in the van. I stare at the closed side door. I debate whether to run, tape the note, or knock. I spring back. The rude van owner inside must have moved. It rocked a little.

I’m about to run back into my condo and forget the whole thing when, suddenly, there’s music from inside. Guitar. Oh shit. I know that riff. Some musicians can play a riff and have it be like a signature. I’d recognize this anywhere. I’ve definitely heard this musician before.

More than mildly pissed off, I pound on the side cargo door. Quiet.

I roll my eyes. “Don’t pretend you’re not in there, Neil. I heard you playing.”

A few seconds of silence, and then the door swings wide. Neil’s face comes into view. “Hey.”

Really, that’s all he has to say? Hey?

“Why are you hanging out in my carport? Why are you always stealing my spot?” I exclaim in unmistakable irritation.

Neil shrugs. “It’s complicated. Can’t you let it go at it’s hard to find an overnight parking place in Berkeley?”

“No. I can’t.”

I search his face. He looks so miserable right now that some of my temper cools.

He rakes a hand through his hair. “I really don’t want to get into it.”

I climb in, sitting on the bed in the van. “I’ve got all night. You’ve clearly got all night. Explain it to me.”

His eyes flash at the clearly all night remark. OK, that was a touch snotty. I look around the interior. Clothes. His musical gear. Books. Sleeping stuff. Is he living in his van?

I search his face. “You don’t have an apartment in Berkeley, do you? That’s why I never drop you off at home and why you can’t give me your number.”

He meets my stare. “No, I don’t.”

My eyes widen. “And you live in your van?”

Neil gives a short, rough laugh. “You make it sound worse than it is. I’ve been all across the country in this van. Betsy has probably been to more states than you have. I’ve slept in it hundreds of times. It’s OK.”

I frown. “This doesn’t make sense. You’ve got a good job. The university must pay you enough so you don’t have to live in your van.”

Neil sighs. “I’ve got bills. Big bills I want to pay off as quickly as possible.”

“What kind of bills?”

His eyes study my face. Every part of him screams he’d rather die than explain this to me.

He does another long intake of air. He lets it out slowly. “I told you, Chrissie. Shit got fucked up last time with my ex. Can’t we just leave it at that?”

My lids flutter wide. I stare at him, hard. “No. Not if I matter to you. Not if you want to stay friends.”

He shakes his head. He sucks in a full chest of air. “I have probation, restitution, and court fees I need to pay off. About another eight thousand dollars is left on my account. That’s why I’m really serious about not losing my fucking job on campus. I got it through county probation. I need to pay my fees so I can get off probation. Get back to Seattle. Get back my life. And worse than that, if I lose my job, I violate my probation and I could go back to jail.”

“Back to jail?”

Neil’s been in jail. Shit, do I even know Neil at all?

“I did thirty days in June at county,” he admits, with a reluctance webbed with something I can’t decipher.

“What for?”

He looks away from me. “I left the road to try to make it work, and I came home and found another guy in my bed.” He lets out a long, emotion-ragged breath. “I fucked him up pretty good. Only fight I’ve ever been in and I end up hurting him into a twenty thousand dollar hospital stay. He pressed charges. So I got thirty days in county, probation until my fees are paid, and ninety days of anger management.”

It’s too much to process.

His eyes come back, locking on mine. “That’s everything, Chrissie. You know everything.” His stare liquefies. “I didn’t want to ever tell you any of this. Can you blame me for not wanting to tell you this? It’s fucking humiliating.”

He looks so sad, so achingly sad. I can’t get my head around this. It doesn’t match the Neil I know. But then we’re all a little crazy when we’re crazy in love. I was certainly crazy over Alan.

I don’t know why I do it, but I move from my side of the van and curl into him. He instantly surrounds me with his legs and arms, easing me back against him. I feel a long, shuddering breath release from his chest.

He buries his lips in my hair. “I’m sorry, Chrissie. But I never lied to you. I told you I had problems. I was pretty fucked up.”

I melt into the feel of him, his hands gently caressing my arms, his lips in my hair. I should be angry that he didn’t tell me this before we got involved. I should be wary of Neil. I should probably end this—whatever we are— right now. I should do a lot of things other than what I’m thinking.

I turn in his arms until I can face him. “Grab your stuff, Neil.”

His green eyes go wide. “No, Chrissie. I’m not going to move in with you.”

I arch a brow. “And I’m not asking you to. But I’m not going to let you live in my carport. I have a couch. You can sleep there. I’ll get an extra spot from the management company for the van, tomorrow.”

“No.” He shakes his head.

“Neil, grab your stuff and stop being a jerk about this.”

I start grabbing at things. I don’t know what I’m rummaging through. It makes him move. It makes him stop me.

Once we’ve gathered some of his things, we walk in silence back to the elevator. I insert the key, turn it, and hit the call button.

I look over my shoulder at him. He looks emotionally frazzled, miserable, and a little overwhelmed.

“Why can’t you go back to Seattle, if that is where you want to be?” I ask.

The tic in his jaw twitches. “You can’t leave the state while you’re on probation. It’s a violation. I have to pay off my fees before I can move back and try to put something together with Josh and the guys again.”

I nod.

We step into the elevator. I hit the button for the top floor.

“Is this why you’re so uncomfortable around your family?” I ask. “The being in jail? The probation thing?”

He lets out a shuddering breath. “Partly.”

Partly? I wonder what else there could be.

I slide the key in the lock of my front door.

“I’m not staying here forever,” he says stiffly from behind me.

I make a face at him. “I’m not letting you stay here forever. We have a guest bath in the hall. There are linens in the closet. There’s the couch. Unless you’d rather take the floor.”

I go into my room and shut the door. It’s only nine, but I put on my pajamas and climb into bed anyway. I just lay there. I’m wide awake for hours. I look over at the clock. Crap, it’s 1 a.m. and I can’t sleep. I feel anxious and out of balance. A strange reaction to having Neil sleeping on my couch.