She didn't think she'd ever loved her dad more than at this moment. She nodded but couldn't speak through the painful knot in her throat.

He exhaled a puff of fog. "You are so loveable, sweetheart. You're a one of a kind."

She lowered her head, unable to see her gloved hands through the blur of tears. "Dad."

"I mean that. You're special, Nicole. I know you think your brothers are. And, sure, they're damn good at what they do, but they've been preoccupied with their physical skills, while you've been developing your mind, your heart, your creativity. You keep that heart wide open, sweet pea, and I promise you'll get back what you give."

Oh, my God. She had no idea her dad thought this way about her. She leaned into him. Those big, strong arms cradled her to his chest, and his beefy paw cupped the back of her head. "Thank you, Dad."

"There's nothing I wouldn't do for you."

She pulled back, wiped the moisture off her face with her glove. "I'm going to think about what you said. And, you know, maybe shower a little more often from now on."

Shrieking women hurled profanities at each other.

"Don't put up with her shit," his mom shouted at the TV.

Dylan forced himself to stay focused on his computer screen. Just a few more questions, and he'd be done. No, wait. He still had the essays to write.

"Oh, that's it. That's it. Take that bitch down."

Apparently, one of the Miami housewives didn't like being accused of trying to hang onto her man with sexy lingerie and cosmetic surgery. And she was willing to brawl to defend her honor.

"Oh, my God! Did you see that? Oh, fuck me. She did have plastic surgery. Did you see that, Dyllie? I've got to check this out." His mom came up behind him, reaching for his laptop. "Can I use this for a sec?" She tried to turn it toward her.

"I'm working."

"It'll just take a minute. Can you Google Marianna Janson? One of those bitches pulled her hair, and you could totally see scars right here." She motioned to the hairline at her temple. "I want to look it up on the Internet."

Okay, that was it. Gently catching her wrist, he edged her away from the table. Shoving the chair back, he strode to the TV and flipped it off.

"Hey." His mom whirled around. "I was watching that."

"I can't think when it's on."

"Well, what am I supposed to do?"

Good question. His mom didn't read or have any hobbies. All her friends partied, so she couldn't hang out with them. She couldn't work at the moment-too unstable, since she'd only been sober five days. What was she supposed to do?

"Maybe I'll call Anne." She leaned over to grab her phone off the coffee table.

That wasn't going to happen. Anne was the one who'd introduced his mom to Jeff Blakely. "How about you make some cookies?"

Her features lit up like a child's. "That's a great idea. You love cookies."

Not exactly, but he wouldn't correct her. He was just glad to have her occupied.

Hooking the chair leg with his boot, he dragged it back to the table. Okay, so where was he? The cursor blinked over the question. Why did he want to go to CU. Well, he didn't. He wanted to stay at Wilmington.

It took a moment to realize the kitchen was too quiet, so he glanced over to find his mom texting on her phone. When she caught him watching, color stained her features.

That familiar sense of dread poured through him, hot and prickly. Who was she talking to? He couldn't ask. Too much pressure drove her to act out. But if he kept her occupied and didn't make her feel too watched, she did all right.

Or did she? Because weren't they already back to their hide and seek games? How many times this week had he searched her drawers and under her mattress and couch cushions for bottles and drugs? How many fights had they had over his distrust?

Jesus, he needed to get out, get some air. It was so hard to breathe in this apartment. Maybe after he knocked out a few more questions, they'd go to the diner. Grab a shake or something.

Okay, so, why did he want to go to CU? He could talk about the business school program...maybe his preference for a small, mountain town- An image flashed in his mind. Nicole on the street, the tip of her nose red from the cold. Her expression of shock and horror as his mom swore at her.

Jesus Christ, he would give anything to take that moment back.

Worst of all? It was his fault. He'd known not to pull Nicole into his world.

He'd known. But selfish bastard that he was, he'd had to have her.

And then his mom had gotten to her. He squeezed his eyes shut at the memory of his mom calling Nicole a cunt.

His mom's phone chimed, and he swung around. She gave him a bright smile.

"Hello? Oh, hey." Using that fake peppy voice, she hurried out of the kitchen and down the hall towards her bedroom. Dammit. He got up, walking quickly but quietly, straining to hear anything-to pick up any kind of clue-but by the time he got close enough to hear her conversation, she'd killed the call.

Coming out of her room, she smiled. "You done with your application?"

Christ, these games. "No, Mom. Who was that?"

"Who?"

He gave her an impatient look.

"On the phone? Just a friend from work. I might start back on Monday. That's why she called. To see if I was ready to come back."

"You're going back to the head shop?"

"I don't know. Maybe. We need the money." And then she got pissy. "What do you want me to do, run Apple?"

What could he come up with to distract her from going out? "How about after you finish the cookies, we go to the diner?" While she baked, he'd try to finish at least one question before tabling the application for the night.

"Yeah, sure. Sounds good." He recognized that vague tone. She was definitely up to something.

He settled back at his computer, but a moment later a drawer slammed shut.

"There's no more chocolate chips."

"Then make sugar cookies."

"I want chocolate." She came out of the kitchen, body tensed and jittery. "I'm just going to head to the store."

Yeah, like that was going to happen. "Okay, let's see what we've got. We'll come up with something you like." Screw the application. He saved it and closed the screen.

Jesus, it'd been a tough week. She'd barely slept, and she'd snacked constantly. She was restless but didn't want to walk or hike in the cold. Really, unless it involved partying, she didn't want to leave the apartment. But all she did was switch from the stereo to the TV. Seemed like nothing held her attention.

And, since he'd cut Kelsi out of his life, he didn't have anyone to help him anymore. It'd just been him and his mom for the past five days since he'd been back.

Keeping her sober was a full-time job.

She'd settle down, though. Once she got the shit out of her system, she could get a job. She said she'd start back with AA next week. Maybe she'd even make some decent friends.

And then he could get back to school in the fall. Or...why not summer school? She'd do all right if she knew he'd come home at the end of the day.

That's what I'm giving Wilmington up for?

He hadn't pulled the plug yet, though. Why, he had no idea. But the idea of flushing away that scholarship sickened him. And of never seeing Nicole again? He broke out in a clammy sweat just thinking about it.

But, of course, he had to let it go. Put it-her-behind him. It wouldn't work, being across the country. His mom needed- A sharp knock on the door had his mom bolting across the living room. The chair kicked back, and his longer legs ate up the short distance. He cut her off.

"God, Dylan. Let me get the damn door."

He gripped her shoulders. "Is that Anne? Are you going out tonight?"

Her gaze cut away. "I'm going to go crazy if I don't get out of this dump." She struggled to get out of his hold.

"Stop it. Just stop. Talk to me."

She blew out a rough breath but didn't say anything.

"Is Anne at the door right now?"

"Well, why don't you let me answer it and we'll find out?"

"Mom. I don't want you going out with her. You know where it'll lead."

"We'll get a coffee. Some laughs. What's the big deal?"

"Bullshit, Mom." Drawing in a deep breath, he worked to keep his temper under control. "I'm here, Mom. You wanted me home, I'm home."

"Yeah, that doesn't mean I'm your prisoner. I can have a life, you know. I'm not going to go out and get shitfaced. Now, back off and let me out for a few hours."

Anger flickered and flared, but he pushed it down. "I'm transferring to CU to be with you, so think hard before you walk out that door to get wasted."

The doorbell rang again, at the same time her phone chimed. She rushed forward, and this time he let her go. "Don't do it, Mom."

"What? I'm answering the door. At least let me let her in. She can hang out here if you need to play jailor so badly."

And let Anne hand her a bag of coke?

"I'm not playing games with you. I know she's got shit on her, and I know she's going to find a way to give it to you."

"What do you want from me? You're sitting there in front of your computer, and I'm bored out of my mind. What's the big deal if I go out for a drink? One fucking drink, and then I'll come right back home. Big whoop."

"But it won't be one drink. We both know that."

"I need to take the edge off."

He couldn't let her go out. "You've been sober five days. Don't blow it tonight."

"I'm not blowing anything. I'm having a friend over." She looked at her phone, quickly texted. "Just...lay off."

"No, I'm not going to lay off. I'm giving up my full ride to Wilmington." I've already given up Nicole. "So, it's not okay that you can't last more than five fucking days. You have to try harder than this. Now, tell your friend to fuck off because unlike her you're trying to get your life on track. Or don't you want a decent life? Am I wasting my time here? Do you just want to get wasted and knocked around by drug dealers and wake up in dirty fields in the middle of winter?"

Pain flickered across her features. "No. Of course I don't want that."

"Then get in the kitchen and let's bake those damn cookies."

His mom looked thoughtful-had he gotten through? And then she typed something out on her cell phone. Finished, she tossed the cell on the couch. "Fine. Let me tell her I'm not going out."

He wanted to stop her-to physically block her-but he wouldn't risk pushing her too far, so instead he stood his ground and watched her open the door to speak quietly to her friend.

After the closed the door, she looked subdued.

"You ready to bake?"

"Yeah. Let me have a smoke first." She headed calmly back to her room, leaving the door open. He knew she'd pull a chair up to the window, lean forward with her arms against the sill, while she took deep drags and blew smoke out into the frigid night air.

He got started in the kitchen. Pulled butter from the fridge, the cookie sheets from the drawer under the oven. And then, when he opened the cupboard for the vanilla, he could've sworn he got hit with a whiff of lavender. He closed his eyes, and there she was. Nicole, with a mischievous gleam in her eyes as she turned from the stove to smile up at him. Jesus, he could feel the curve of her ass in his hands, her breath at his ear.

"Okay, ready." His mom breezed into the kitchen smelling faintly of pot.

A quick glance at her dilated pupils confirmed she'd actually scored a bag of weed from her friend in the thirty seconds it took to tell her she wasn't going out with her.

Something clicked into place inside him. He thought about his mom, her hands shaking, the constant texting, the hide and seek games, and he got it. He just completely got it.

For the first time he understood that he couldn't be the reason she stayed sober. She had to find her own reason. Otherwise, it was like trying to hold back a waterfall.

"Did you find any chocolate?" His mom came into the kitchen.

Giving up Wilmington wouldn't solve anything. Even if he quit school and got a job, he'd still be worrying about what she did during those hours.

Keeping her from using was a full time job. And even then it wouldn't stop her.

He'd give up a lot to keep her safe, but he wasn't giving up his scholarship.

She cocked her head. "Why're you looking at me like that?"

"Forget the chocolate. We're making cupcakes instead."