Even empty places held secrets. Walls that housed rose-painted lies and heated scandals. Ceilings you stared at when sleepless nights turned into mornings of regrets. Doors that shut behind you, after returning from a day of playing pretend.

I wondered how many webs of lies Natasha wove, how many haunted secrets she was running away from.

"It's freezing," Griffin said, rubbing his hands together for warmth. "Let me see if I can get the fireplace working."

I looked around the house, feeling Natasha's presence and the faint ghost of old memories in every corner.

"You'd think a beach house would be warmer," Griffin said.

I couldn't help smiling. "That's the case in the summer."

I joined Griffin by the fireplace. As soon as he had gotten it working, the flames cast a soft orange glow on his face, highlighting his features. I noticed everything — his clouded blue eyes with the little gray specks in the middle, the stubble on his chin, and his nose which was slightly crinkled from his focus. When his eyes landed on me, I averted my gaze, embarrassed that he had caught me staring.

"Are you still cold?" he asked. Being near him and the fire, I wasn't cold anymore. It felt like my entire body was burning from the anticipation of being near him. Every action wasn't mine, but a reaction to him.

"No, good now," I said, my voice above a whisper. 

He hesitated before asking, "So, does anyone know we're here?"

"I didn't tell anyone."

"Not even Justin?" Griffin said his name almost mockingly, and I cocked my head defensively.

"He doesn't have to know everything I do," I said. He raised his eyebrows. "Besides, he said some things to me, so we're not good right now."

"What things?" He wasn't being spiteful anymore.

"Nothing important — "

"Haven." He pressed, harshly this time, jaw muscles twitching. "What things?"

"Nothing," I insisted, trying to ignore his intense gaze. "It's over — we're over now."

"You guys broke up?" He didn't look at me. It was a genuine question out of curiosity, but I felt my heart do a little flip.

"Yes," I said. I looked up to peek at his face. He still looked angry, and the unfamiliarity of it almost scared me.

"He never deserved you," he said gruffly.

My breath caught. It was all in the way he looked at me then. It was only for a split second, but a second I would replay like a broken record, hold on to because of the electricity that ran through my veins. We let the crackle of the flames become the only sound in the silence.

"It's not just Justin," I admitted after a pause. "Him, Taylor. I feel like I'll lose Luce at this rate, too. It feels like no one else cares. Sometimes, I wish I didn't either."

After everything Natasha did, she didn't deserve to have me care for her. Yet I did.

I chewed my lip, recalling old memories. "When Natasha came into my life, I felt like I wasn't alone. In the beginning, at least. Now... now I'm just alone again." My voice broke, and I cleared my throat so he wouldn't notice.

After a pause, Griffin looked at me. "I can't speak for Taylor, Justin, or any of your friends. But I want you to know you're not alone."

My cheeks burned, noticing the way he was looking at me. His long lashes fluttered against his cheeks as he cracked a smile.

"Besides, you're a little hard to hate. They'll come around."

Warmth pooled in my stomach.

His eyes slid to the clock, and then he glanced back at me. "I think the house is warm enough to not feel like a freezer. Should we check out the rooms upstairs?"

I didn't want this moment to end. I tried to capture it as if it was actually something worth remembering and stay as long as I could if it meant just sitting near him. But as the flames dissipated, I knew I couldn't keep it; nothing lasts forever. He stood up, offering me a hand, and I took it, letting him pull me up.

His fingers wrapped around mine for a second too long, but he dropped my hand, and just like that, the warmth was gone. I was so glad he couldn't see the thoughts that loved to betray me or feel how my heartbeat quickened.

"Natasha's room," Griffin said, avoiding my gaze. "If I remember correctly... the first room on the left?"

"Right," I breathed. "It's the room on the right."

It was a faint memory, but one that still existed. Natasha had brought me to her beach house only once — she had told me she only came there alone when things were bad.

I held my breath, imagining her in this empty place, alone and scared.

Griffin nodded, allowing me to lead the way. I walked towards the room, edging the creaky door open.

There was a large vanity mirror with the attached lights off. Handmade paintings and potted plants decorated the dresser. A coffee mug with lipstick fringed on the rim. I glanced at the maroon shade, swallowing.

Natasha's signature shade.

"She was here," I whispered. "She came to Eastwood before all of this."

Before, all we had was a potential lead. This confirmed that Natasha had been here — maybe to get away from Killer Cupid.

Griffin moved forward, shuffling through the drawers. "Most of them are empty," he said hoarsely. He moved to the closet next, pulling the doors open.

I walked over to the dresser. Going through Natasha's things felt invasive, but her summer home held secrets. It had to — why else would she come here? I ran my fingers lightly over the handles, going through each chest.

Old t-shirts.

Swimsuits.

Suntan lotion.

Nothing that screamed murder. Just as I was about to give up, my eyes landed on a glimmer of teal.

I moved aside a baseball cap. On top of the envelopes, there was a printed-out note from Killer Cupid.

My stomach twisted, goosebumps lining my skin. Killer Cupid hadn't just been stalking me — he had been after Natasha, too. 

I pushed aside the top note, revealing multiple envelopes underneath. My body tensed as I leafed through the envelopes, realizing they contained letters.

"Griffin." My voice was barely above a whisper. "Look." I showed him the envelopes, and he leafed through them before meeting my gaze.

"They're all letters blackmailing Natasha." Griffin's eyebrows furrowed. "Why would someone do that?"

"The last note says she isn't safe," I said, swallowing past the lump in my throat. "But that isn't the worst part. I recognize the handwriting."

The same writing from the handwritten notes she would pass me in class when we were too young to have phones. The way she dotted her I's and how she curved her e's.

"It's Taylor's," I said.

Griffin's darkened gaze met mine. "Are you sure?"

I nodded, feeling my skin grow hot. Why would she blackmail her? If Taylor had been the one to hurt Natasha, I didn't know what I would do.

"At the party, I saw Kai Adams. She was in such a hurry that she spilled a drink on me and said she didn't have time. I thought it was weird that she would even be there, but maybe she was there for a reason. Maybe she was running away." My breathing intensified, remembering the deer-in-headlight glazed look in Kai's eyes. Kai shouldn't have been there that night, but she was.

It wasn't a coincidence her name had popped up on Taylor's phone.

The two of them knew something.

The thought of it made goosebumps rise on my skin. "I saw Kai's caller ID on Taylor's phone the other day. The only connection between the two was that they didn't like Natasha." I chewed on my lip, feeling my heartbeat quicken. "Do you think Taylor could be the one that killed Natasha?"

I didn't want it to make sense. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized it did. She had been trying to scare Natasha, and she wanted her gone. It would explain why she was acting so weird lately. But Taylor couldn't be Killer Cupid. Not the same Taylor I had grown up with, the same Taylor that I had trusted more than life itself.

Could some friendships turn that dark?

They could.

After all, your friendship with Natasha had.

"Haven." Griffin's voice vaguely drifted, but I was too busy feeding into the edging doubt.

He nudged me, his voice growing soft. "If Taylor had anything to do with this, we'll figure it out. You're not alone in this."

My eyes burned with held-back tears.

Griffin took a step closer, his eyes filled with concern. "Hey. Stay with me, Grey."

Without thinking, I threw my arms around him, surprising both of us.

"Thank you," I said, although it came out muffled against his chest. A flicker of surprise crossed his face, and it took him a moment to react. But he slowly brought his muscular arms around me, tightening it after brief hesitation and holding me close. I let my eyes shut. For the first time in a while, I felt safe and finally understood how a person could become home. The musky scent of his cologne and softness of his sweatshirt were a temporary fix — gone too soon as he stepped away, dropping his arms at his side.

I moved back, realizing hugging might've been a dangerous move. My breath hitched.

"You should get some sleep," he said, avoiding my gaze. Before he could turn away, I grabbed his arm and he looked at me questioningly.

"I can't sleep in here. What if her ghost comes or something?" I blurted out, flushing afterward.

"This isn't The Conjuring, Grey," Griffin said. His eyes glimmered with concealed amusement.

"Please don't go." I didn't know what else to say, and he turned to me as if he didn't know how to respond. I guess I looked desperate because his face softened.

"Do you want me to sleep here, and then you can have the main bedroom?"

"It isn't just that. I feel her in the entire house. She's... everywhere." He knew what I meant.

He sighed and said, "Then why don't we both not sleep together? You can have the bed in case you sleep, and I'll take the floor."

"You can have the bed," I said.

He didn't even reply to argue with me, just kept walking. I followed him, heading to the bathroom to change into my pajamas. As soon as I was out, his lips curved into a smile.

"That's what you sleep in?"

I narrowed my eyes. "Yeah, why?" I looked down at the pink set with bears on them. Okay, so it wasn't my sexiest pair of PJs, but it's not like I was here for sex, anyway.

"Whatever," I said.

"I didn't even say anything!"

"You thought about it!" I said, trying not to laugh.

He groaned. "Havennn."

Please don't say my name like that.

"What about your PJs?" I said.

He looked at his own. "What's wrong with them?"

"They're all 'look at me. I'm soooo mysterious, and I think I'm hot and girls love me.'" They weren't; it was just a black t-shirt and blue bottoms. I meant to sound teasing, but even to my ears, I sounded jealous.

He moved closer to me, and I felt my breath hitch as the excited feeling in my stomach grew, wondering what he would do. If I imagined his eyes growing darker and the pull I felt towards him, or if it was real.

I held my breath as he leaned in and whispered, "Too bad it's the wrong ones, I guess." I felt my cheeks burn, and I realized if I turned, even a little, he would kiss me.

I'd be kissing Griffin Keely.

But he moved away.

"Bed's all yours," he said, looking completely composed.

When he pulled away, a wave of embarrassment and anger rushed through my body. I was mad at him, but more at myself for letting myself get close.

I tugged the comforter. I had felt bad about stealing the bed at first, but now I didn't anymore, and I definitely wasn't suggesting he sleep with me.

We stayed in our respective spots, not saying anything.

"Do you remember Emilio's?" he asked suddenly.

Of course, I remembered. It was one of the first times we had ever spent with each other alone. I considered not replying, but I did. "I think so. Why?"

"Their pizza was bad."

I couldn't help laughing. "That's what you're thinking about?"

"My mind's a mysterious place," he said, and I could hear the smile in his voice before I saw it.

"We went to the boardwalk after," I said. "You won me the lizard. Toby." I thought of the cute stuffed animals on the shelf, and how I had picked the one thing most people wouldn't have.

"Do you still have it?"

"I'm not sure. Maybe it's somewhere." I said. But that was a lie. I knew exactly where it was.

"Well, if I had to win stuffed reptiles and eat bad pizza with someone, I'm glad it was you, Haven Grey."

"Me too," I finally said, hugging my pillow closer.

Silence spread over us for what felt like a long time, and I thought he had fallen asleep. I closed my own eyes. All of a sudden, he started talking again, in a low tone.

"I noticed you, before I ever actually talked to you. I didn't like you, I was just curious. The way you would laugh, though it was never to something I said- I still liked it though. And you'd look at me when you thought I wouldn't notice. You knew I was messy. But you weren't judging me, you were just trying to figure me out. That's what made you different."

I froze, my eyes fluttering open.

"And then at the Freshman Social, you had a red dress on, and your hair was all curly- you did something to it, something different- and I thought you might be the prettiest girl I've ever seen."

The freshman year dance. Justin had been the perfect date; he had brought me a red corsage to pin on my wrist and he kept his arm around me for the pictures. But he never told me I looked beautiful that night. It was a subtle thing, and maybe it was stupid, but it wasn't, not to me.

"Part of me was so pissed off that you had Justin, and pissed at myself for even wanting you. I don't do this love shit, not because I think I'm better than anybody but because I never learned how. Hell, sometimes I don't even know if I love myself, how am I gonna know if I can be man enough to love someone else?"

I didn't say anything, holding my breath as he continued, shocked that he was speaking about the buried past.

"I thought hooking up with Natasha would make it all go away, but I swear I didn't know about her feelings for me. I thought it was meaningless sex, and I was dumb enough to believe that it would help me pretend I didn't need you. Because it scared me. It honestly scared me, how it wasn't even about sex with you. It was just sitting next to you, watching you laugh, rolling your eyes at me."

He clasped his hands together, staring at the ceiling in a daze.

"And then you were there in my room at the party and you looked at me with those eyes- God, those big brown eyes, I swear that's what ruined me. And then I wanted it all to stop. I didn't want to have sex with Natasha, I didn't want Justin to get to look at you like you were the only girl in the world. Even if I didn't deserve you. I wanted to be selfish and tell you fuck everyone else."

I still didn't dare move, but I felt my stomach twist, a mix of restless butterflies and a pit of nostalgic pain. I was almost scared to speak, even breathe, as if doing so would change everything and break him from his trance.

"I lost you before I even had you," he continued quietly. "And now I can't do anything, because I can't do that to Natasha." He ran a hand through his hair, sighing. "I don't even know if you feel anything. I guess that's what I deserve, to chase something that'll never be mine. But I still think about how it was supposed to be you that night, that I told how I felt." He shifted, and I immediately shut my eyes before he could face me so he wouldn't see I was awake. "It was always you."

He thought I had fallen asleep, and I heard him softly laugh and say to himself, "I guess it's too late, right?"

I couldn't let myself answer him, no matter how much I wanted to, because it was all gone now. Things wouldn't go back to the way they were before. We'd never get to look at each other the way we did... not when we blamed ourselves for what happened to Natasha. The quietness hung over us, and then I heard his steady breathing and knew he had fallen asleep himself.

Only then did I let myself cry, silently so that he would never know.