ASHELY’S P.O.V.

Tobias, I've concluded, wanted something from me.

I tried not to harden my jaw as the kettle whistled, jerking me out of my thoughts. About five minutes ago, he knocked on my door asking if I was busy or needed help. I said no, of course, but then he volunteered to look at the faulty faucet I had mentioned in passing.

“Sugar?” I asked, not looking away from the kettle.

I wish July or any of the girls were around today, because how do I handle all the awkwardness? How ...