Sierra wants me to be nice. Act as though I'm not a complete asshole. A guy with manners, feelings. One that offers hearts and flowers. And I'm anything but.

Acting as though I was the perfect boyfriend doesn't seem right. The last relationship I was in, a committed one, mind you, it didn't exactly end well. Or was great to begin with.

We're back at my house by now. It's only six, but I figured being here earlier than usual won't hurt. It hurts my nerves and workaholism, but it won't hurt Sierra.

And I really needed to get out of the office. It's been a day and everything looks like Sierra. Everything smells like her.

Her giggles echo through the room like a song is on repeat on the radio.

I don't understand how she has fun writing reports, and doing whatever the hell she does for a living. She always smiles while she writes. Giggles, laughs even. She squeals, jumps around, is happy.

And when she takes a break to eat, she is all nice and keeps offering her food to others, even me. And I don't understand why.

She was so mad at me for being bossy, and an hour later she was the kindest person anyone could meet, again.

Sierra is like the summer wind. She's warming, happy, she's a feel-good. She's a melody one wants to listen to. I, on the contrary, I'm bringing winter.

I'm the cold wind, freezing up body parts that don't have enough coverage. My office is usually a cold and lonely place. And this woman, Sierra, she warmed it up in a few hours.

Making her stay with me is becoming a real bad choice. It was right from the start, and it's only getting worse.

And still, I can't seem to stay away from her.

"Are you hungry?" I ask as Sierra walks into the kitchen. She's still wearing her way too short summer dress, but she ditched the shoes. She's holding a toy of my dog's in her hand, telling me was just playing with Taco.

Sierra smiles at me and nods, softly. "Can we order in? I don't like any of your healthy stuff."

I take a deep breath. "I sent someone shopping," I tell her. It's the truth. When Sierra went to chat with Athena earlier, I asked Cody to buy whatever the hell he knows Sierra loves to eat. After all, I can't have her die of hunger.

And she's always hungry, that much I've learned over the past two days.

"Donuts?" Her eyes are gleaming with hope. Her smile so bright, it might as well be a star seen on the night sky.

I nod. "They're in the fridge. Fresh ones, so you might want to eat them before they're not... fresh anymore?" Not a clue how fast that happens with donuts.

"I kinda want pasta," she tells me, pouting her lips.

"Fine, I'll cook it." I give in. Pasta is better than some sugar-bomb that are her precious donuts. Or her Monday-cookies.

"You can cook?"

"Don't act like that's such a surprise." I walk around my kitchen, gathering all the ingredients I'll need, as well as pods.

"My brother can't cook," she tells me.

I know he can't. He's the worst. He did so, once, and it ended with both of us in the ER, earning ourself food poisoning. Not sure what the hell he did, or what shit he put in there that wasn't good anymore, but it's safe to say, I never touched anything he made ever again. I'm glad Athena's the one doing the cooking when they invite me over, or rather Cody makes me come over for his very beloved game night once a month.

And with game night, I do not mean we play charades or some shit like that. He makes me watch soccer with him. Fucking soccer.

I also used to hang around their house a lot when Hunter was a little younger and Athena and Cody needed a day to themselves. Though, the usually just dropped their kid off here and then left me alone with a kid that loved screaming and everything sweet. It still happens sometimes.

"Neither can I. I usually live off of take-outs and whatever I bought for lunch break," Sierra adds quickly.

I turn around, looking at Sierra. She sits on the kitchen island, her feet dangling down. I thought she might be joking, but the sad look on her face tells me she's not.

"Aren't you twenty-four? I bet you can cook something."

She shakes her head. "Boil eggs, maybe. Though, I wouldn't be surprised if I'd over- or undercook them." She shrugs apologetically. "My mum died when I was ten, so she never got to teach me."

I knew her mother died. Cody had called me that day and told me what happened. As a best friend would, I suppose. I didn't know he had a sister, but I knew his cousin was around a lot. He had told me she took it very badly.

Come to think that cousin he always talked about wasn't a cousin after all.

Okay, I did suspect that the second Sierra introduced Cody to me as her brother. Quite the shock for me, to say the least.

I'm also only now realising Cody's words from weeks ago. She only ever had him because his father isn't hers. That means Sierra basically grew up without any parents at all.

She was only ten. God.

"You never bothered to teach yourself?" I ask.

Sierra shakes her head. "My mother loved to cook. She used to watch those cooking shows on TV all the time and recreate the meals. When I tried to teach myself by watching those shows, I couldn't get through the first ten minutes before I started to cry."

That's awful.

"And your dad?"

She snorts a laugh. "I don't know who he is. Drew was kind enough to let me stay until I was old enough. He never really liked me that much though."

I've met Drew a thousand times before. He never seemed to be a bad father, and Cody only ever speaks highly of him. But if he was such a great father, wouldn't he have done better than to just offer the child of his dead wife a home?

Suddenly I'm reminded by something else.

Age twenty-three. Cody and I were meeting up for some drinks, celebrating my birthday. The same birthday I always hated and never even wanted to celebrate in the first place.

I was waiting for him to show up at the bar. Hours passed and he still didn't show. So I called him. He picked up but tried to get rid of me just as fast.

"I'm sorry, Atlas. I forgot about you," he said. And if I recall correctly, he sounded rushed, fearful, angry. "My cousin needs me. Something really bad happened to her. I need to take care of it."

To this day, Cody has never told me what happened that night. He never spoke of it, never mentioned that night. And with every new year, he seemed to hate this day more and more.

Now, if I think about it... the things Sierra said that night in Vancouver, it starts to make more and more sense.

Curiosity gets the better of me. "Sierra, what did you do on November 23rd 2015?"

Her face pales, and I can watch as her body tenses.

As she begins to shake, I take a couple steps to stand right in front of her. Her eyes fill with tears, a reaction I don't like seeing. Not one bit.

I didn't think it was that bad what happened six years ago, but judging by her reaction, it must have been.

When she told me she got fucked without being turned on, my mind didn't immediately go this way.

As I want to reach my hand out to her, Sierra slaps it away. "Don't touch me," she speaks, sounding breathy. "Who did you talk to, Storm?"

I don't answer, even though I know I owe her that much. She now thinks I know more about her than she thought. That's not true. I know nothing about her. Maybe a few snippets of the things Cody told me, but I don't even remember most of it.

"Storm. Did Athena mention anything?"

I guess I'll have to make Athena talk now. I shouldn't. I should get the truth from Sierra and no one else.

But is there really anything else to say? Her reaction, her fear of men, it can only come from two things.

"Were you raped, Sierra?" My jaw clenches at the thought of it. My blood boiling while I watch, waiting for any reaction.

I know I am a straight-forward guy. I don't like beating around the bush, stalling or babbling. But even so, I probably should have phrased it differently, be a little more sensitive with her. Well, I can't change it now.

Her tears spill over, running down her rosy cheeks. With every blink, a whole new load of tears escape her eyes, staining her beautiful face with sadness.

"How do you know the date, Storm?" Her voice is way too tear-filled for my liking. And I hate that I caused it right now. She was happy, laughing, didn't think about it. And as I always do, I ruined her mood.

"Someone I know told me of it years ago. I've only just put two and two together."

"Nobody knows what happened, Storm. Athena doesn't know. Drew doesn't know. The only people out there knowing are my brother and..." she trails off.

"The other guy," I fill in for her. She nods. "I'm so sorry, Sierra."

Fuck, I hope she doesn't think I know the other guy. Because I don't, at least not that I know of it.

Her eyes widen, but I don't think it's because of fear. She's... surprised? Then her jaw drops as my words sink in. "Did you say you're sorry?"

"For you. That it happened." Like I'd ever apologise for anything I did. Not that I would ever do anything like that other guy did. Hell, an apology wouldn't even be remotely enough for that.

Sierra remains silent, wiping underneath her eyes to remove the tears, even though it's useless because they keep on coming. I want to take a step back, give her the space I know she needs, but as I do, a small hand wraps around my wrist.

"Please don't go," she says quietly, tugging at my arm to pull me closer. "And please don't feel sorry for me. You're not that kind of person to feel. And I really need him right now."

Perhaps I should be offended, but she's right. I don't usually feel anything, and if I do, it's anger. Definitely no pity. "Why?"

A small smile tugs at her lips, eventually overpowering her sad frown. "I don't think I like the Storm that feels sorry for me."

"Didn't you tell me to be nicer to you?"

She nods. "Nicer doesn't mean pitying me." And then, like she has never hated me, Sierra pulls me so close to her that her arms can easily wrap around my torso.

I don't hug her back, not immediately at least. The last time I hugged someone must have been in college. This is totally strange.

Eventually, I close my arms around her small body, allowing the hug to happen.

I can feel it in my bones. The next couple of years are going to be pure torture. With Sierra and our baby around... I guess I do have to become a bit more open. At least to Sierra. I owe her that much for moving in and, as of now, staying with me until the baby is a bit older.

When her body begins to shake, I pull away from the hug, laying my hands down onto her jawline to cup her face. She looks into my eyes, and I can tell she's fighting the urge to push me away.

"This might do absolutely nothing for you now, but, Sierra, I won't do anything to you," I tell her. "I promise, you're safe with me. From anyone. I'd do anything to protect you." and this baby, I want to add for my own sanity, but it doesn't seem right to do that.

"We're not a couple, Storm. You don't have to protect me from anyone or anything," she says.

I shake my head, though I agree. "You're kind of carrying my child. We'll always have some sort of connection. I don't have to be your boyfriend in order to be wanting to protect you. This child needs a mother more than a father. If anything happened to you..."

Without ever finishing my sentence, I gently scoot Sierra a little farther back on the floor. "It's time someone teaches you how to cook the most basic things."

Sierra smiles at me, the same warm, loving smile she always shows. But it has an add-on. Something I couldn't name if my life depended on it. Yet, it does things to my chest knowing this one is for me only.