Emma gawked at the bright yellow Lamborghini and she couldn’t stop running her hands over the interior leather as he drove them to his house.

“You really live here?” she asked as she stared at the home he had grown up in.

“I really do,” he said. “Everything I told you was true, well, except my name. I really did live here with my grandparents.”

She kissed him and he didn’t bother explaining how he couldn’t leave the place because of the memories it held. ...