"Okay."

"I'll be back to pick you."

"I, uh... I'd rather stay here tonight."

A look of hurt passes across his face, wounded pride, like I've rejected him. "You want to sleep here?"

"Yes. I mean, if you don't mind. I have to finish packing, and it'll give me a chance to catch up with Melody."

Naz looks like he's going to argue, but his phone ringing again stops him. Sighing, he kisses the side of my head and strides toward the door. "I'll be back tomorrow morning."

He walks out without waiting for me to escort him down, and I shrug it off. What are they going to do? Evict me? Certainly isn't the first time he's wandered these halls alone.

I turn to Melody as she flops down on her bed, staring off into space, shell-shocked. "You're engaged."

"I am."

Her skeptical gaze turns to me. "Have you told your mother?"

"No," I whisper. "Not yet."

Loud laughter bursts from Melody, like it's the funniest thing she's ever heard. I smile at the absurdity, although my insides are knotted tightly, so much I can hardly breathe.

My mother's not going to take this in stride.

She's going to think the city corrupted me.

And maybe it has, but I'm happy that way. I can't step in the same river twice, but that's okay, because there are more rivers out there, unchartered water, that I'll get to explore with the man of my dreams.

The sky is still dark. It's so early it barely constitutes 'tomorrow' or 'morning' when Naz reappears at the dorm. He once more makes it up to my room without anyone signing him in, slipping right past the flimsy security of the dorm, reminding me how unsafe a place like this can be. Santino's death lingers on the back of my mind, knowing there's a killer roaming around putting me on edge.

Maybe moving in with Naz is the best idea. At least with him, I'm safe. Nobody is stupid enough to mess with him.

He knocks on the door of the dorm room before dawn, rousing both Melody and me from sleep. We locked the door last night for probably the first time all semester. Melody merely rolls over, throwing her blanket over her head with a groan as I flick on the light and open the door. Naz strolls in, dressed as usual, a pair of black gloves on his hands.

Groggily, I rub my eyes as I survey him. "Is it cold out or something?"

He raises an eyebrow in question. "Why?"

"You're wearing gloves," I point out.

"No," he says, glancing down at his hands, before turning away from me and surveying my things. I finished packing last night, everything shoved into boxes except for my pillow and blanket. "This should all fit in the car, but if not, we can come back for it later."

"Okay."

I flop back down on my bed, yawning, and watch as he stacks boxes and picks them up, heading out the door.

It takes him less than ten minutes on his own to take everything downstairs to the Mercedes, parked in a coveted spot right along the curb. He has it all crammed in and loaded before I even get around to sliding on my shoes. I tell him I'll meet him at the car as I snatch the blanket off of Melody's head and shove her over to sit down.

"What?" she groans, half-asleep. She elbows me as she tries to grab her blanket.

"I'm leaving," I say. "Wanted to say goodbye."

"Later, hooker," she says. "See you later, not goodbye."

"See you later," I say, throwing the blanket back over her head. I stand back up and head for the door.

"So just chill," she calls out. "'Till the next episode."

Rolling my eyes, I head out, finding Naz waiting downstairs with the passenger door open for me. I get in, some anxiety brewing in my stomach when he climbs in beside me.

"You ready to go home?" he asks as he starts the car.

Home. Such a simple word, but the connotation of it makes something inside of me soar. I've never really felt like I was standing on stable ground, like there was somewhere I could call home permanently. My life has always been a series of temporaries: new towns, new people, new schools, and new houses. New everything. The world around me fluctuated, so many variables in my word problem of life to ever figure out the answer of who I am.

But Naz is my new constant.

My permanent.

He makes it easier to find my answer, to find my place.

My home.

"Yeah," I say, offering him a small smile. "I'm ready."

I'm quiet on the drive to Brooklyn, quiet when we pull up to the house, quiet as we head inside. We unload my things, taking them up to his room… our room… for me to unpack.

"Should I…?" I hesitate, looking at the massive dresser. "Can I…?"

"Whatever you want," he says, answering my unasked questions. "What's mine is yours, Karissa."

There's an extra closet in here, half of the drawers in his dresser empty, like it was all waiting for me to move in all along. Naz lingers in the room while I unpack before excusing himself when his phone rings. He comes back a few minutes later, pausing in the doorway. "I have some work to take care of… I'll be back around noon. Settle in, get comfortable…"

"I will."

He strolls over, kissing me, a smile tugging his lips. "I'm happy you're here."

"I'm happy to be here," I whisper, but he's already gone before the words are from my lips.