My cohabitation situation with Josh was on day five. I stayed in Mom’s empty beach house the two days he went to work. It wasn’t ideal. My inventory was at my house and I had to be there to get any work done. The commute was two hours. But he was right—I couldn’t be in my house alone at night. It just wasn’t safe.

Josh and I had developed a sort of routine. We ate almost every meal together, watched marathons of shows, took turns walking Stuntman, and did late-night food runs. I had planned to stay away from him as much as possible, but there was only the one TV in the living room and the coffee table was my unofficial office. And if we both needed to eat, it didn’t make any sense to do it separately. So we just kind of fell in together.

Every morning he’d patrol the yard for evidence of my creeper. It was seriously fucking hot. Then he’d make us eggs and we’d sit at the kitchen table talking until he had to get to work.

He had just come back over for another two-day stretch. I sat on the steps of the garage talking to him. I wore a tie-dyed shirt I’d made at summer camp, like, nine years ago with Sloan. I also wore the matching scrunchie. I’d been digging deep to maintain my homeless-chic wardrobe. It was becoming more and more necessary.

I liked him. I liked him a lot.

He was fun. When he left for his two-day shift, I missed him. Big-time. This wasn’t good. I needed Tyler to come home.

Josh was telling me about a call he went on, and I zoned out watching him carve an ornate design into the side of a step. I loved that he worked with his hands. It was beyond sexy. I wondered how those hands would feel on my bare skin. Strong and rough.

I thought about that stupid piggyback ride so much you’d think it was foreplay. The press of those back muscles and the warmth of his skin against my breasts. The way he smelled. How easily he’d lifted me. I bet he could do push-ups with me sitting on his back. Then I imagined him doing push-ups over me while I lay on a bed under him.

God. I’m going straight to hell.

I stuck a finger in a tiny hole at the waist of my shirt and made a tear.

Tyler called. Coincidence? Or did he feel the threat from halfway around the world?

“I gotta take this,” I said.

The phone call was like an emergency broadcast test breaking into one of my favorite shows. I’d sit through it because I had to, waiting impatiently for it to be over so I could go back to watching what I was before the interruption.

It sucked that I felt that way.

I liked talking to Tyler. I just didn’t like talking to Tyler when it meant it took away from talking to Josh. I knew this was wrong. I knew it was unhealthy. And I also couldn’t stop myself from feeling this way.

I hit the Answer Call button and got up and went out to the sweltering sunbaked driveway, out of earshot. “Hey, babe.”

“Hi, Kris. What are you doing?”

“Hanging out with Josh in the garage. What are you doing?”

“Getting ready to see you. Eight days.” I could hear the smile in his voice.

Yes. Eight days. Then it would be the Tyler Show I was watching.

“I know. I can’t wait,” I said, forcing enthusiasm. I studied a crack in the driveway and rolled my foot over a dandelion growing from the crevice, smooshing it onto the concrete, bleeding yellow and green.

“Have the cops gotten back to you? Any updates?”

Once the danger had been neutralized by Josh’s presence in my guest room, I came clean to Tyler about the attempted break-in. “No, I haven’t heard anything.”

“And Josh is keeping his hands to himself?” he asked.

I gazed into the garage and Josh’s eyes flickered away from me like he’d been watching.

I wondered if Josh ever thought of me the way I thought of him, or if my attempts to turn him off were successful. He seemed to enjoy my company, but he never crossed any lines with me. That was a good thing. Because if he ever did, I’d have to make him leave. Permanently.

“Josh is very well behaved,” I said, telling the truth. “I mean, I wouldn’t have even agreed to this if he wasn’t Brandon’s best friend. He was prescreened.” All true.

I left out the part that I had a major crush on him and was enjoying my time with him more than I should.

“What does that guy look like anyway?” Tyler asked.

“Josh? Hot fireman.” No point in lying to him. He’d see for himself soon enough. And Tyler was never shocked by my bluntness.

“Not hotter than me, I hope.” He was giving me that cocky grin of his right through the phone. The guy knew he was gorgeous. He didn’t sound particularly worried.

“It’s kind of a crapshoot, actually. The two of you would really rake it in at one of those ‘save the children’ fund-raisers where the guys get auctioned off.”

I’d go broke at that fund-raiser. For the kids, of course.

He laughed. “Well, tell him I appreciate him looking out for you until I get home.”

“I will. So what’s going on over there?” I wanted to change the subject away from Josh.

“Oh, I’ve got a story for you, actually.”

I arched an eyebrow. Tyler’s stories were great. “Montgomery?” “Hansen,” he said.

He had two buddies over there, Montgomery and Hansen, who never failed to produce good stories.

“Hansen just got back from leave. You won’t believe what this guy did.” “Tell me,” I said.

He launched into an animated story about Hansen’s exploits and I smiled, remembering why Tyler and I were able to make a two-year long- distance relationship work. He was great on the phone. I breathed a sigh of

relief that I felt drawn in again and wasn’t impatient to hang up and get back to Josh.

“He’s got three squad cars and a Bentley parked in front of his house at three in the morning,” he said.

“Fucking Hansen.”

“I know. He had pictures of the whole thing.” I could imagine him shaking his head, those piercing green eyes laughing. “The guy kills me.” He chuckled.

I sighed. “What are you gonna do when you’re not hanging out with these guys anymore?” Both Hansen and Montgomery had reenlisted.

He went quiet for a beat too long. “We’ll stay in touch. I’m not worried about it.” But something in his tone had flattened. “Hey, I was thinking we could take a trip to Spain when I get back. I’d love to show you where I lived when I was a kid.”

We talked for a few minutes about Spain. Then the phone muffled, like he was talking to someone else. “Kris, I need to get going. I’ll give you a call in a few days.”

“Tyler?”

“What’s up?”

I shot a look at Josh. “I really need you to come home. I miss you.” “I miss you too, Kris. Talk to you in a few days.”

We hung up and I stood in the driveway for a moment, looking in at Josh.

I did miss Tyler. The thing was, even though I missed him, I couldn’t really remember him.

Tyler dimmed for me during these separations. It was like a dying fire. But it always blazed back up the second he was with me again. And I knew at least some of what I was feeling for Josh was because what I felt for Tyler had become fuzzy and hard to recall over so many miles and so much time.

Josh was present and clear. Of course he felt more distracting to me. Right? Tyler was a season I hadn’t seen in eight months, and Josh was brighter than the sun at the moment. That’s all it was. It wasn’t that Josh was anything special. How could he be?

Josh and I had a divide between us so large we might as well be a different species. He wanted an enormous family, and I…

I just needed Tyler to come home. That’s it. I needed him to come back into my life and blot out the sun.

I needed an eclipse.

Josh looked over at me and gave me his stunning, dimpled smile, and I felt my disloyal heart reach out for him.

Yes, I needed an eclipse.

But then I’d just be in the dark, wouldn’t I?