Nathan Hale was only supposed to keep an eye on her while her father was away. That was the agreement. Check in every now and then. Fix whatever breaks. Make sure she gets home safe after late shifts at the bar. Simple. Except somewhere between replacing porch lights, patching leaks, and quiet dinners that lasted longer than either of them meant them to, the line between obligation and devotion disappeared. Now every excuse to stay feels more dangerous than the last—and every goodbye feels like a lie they’re both learning to tell. Some doors are locked for a reason. The worst part is… He already has the key.