Sienna

I could barely breathe when we stepped inside.

The house smelled faintly of lavender and rain — calm and homely — but my pulse was still racing from the disaster that just happened in the car.

I had called Jaxon babe. In front of our parents.

The word kept replaying in my head like a broken record. Every time I tried to convince myself they hadn’t heard it clearly, Mom’s knowing smile told me otherwise.

We kicked off our shoes by the door, the soft sound of footsteps echoing ...