I can't sleep. I've been tossing and turning around in bed all night. I even picked up my phone a few times and contemplated calling Nico. I can't believe he hasn't called me. In his defense, I basically implied for him not to.

Instead of reaching for my phone, I throw the covers off and hop out of my bed. I make my way downstairs and head to the kitchen for a glass of water. That's when I notice the lights in the living room on. 

"Mom?" I call out when I notice the back of her head. She turns around on the couch so that she's facing me.

"Isabella, sweetheart, what are you doing up this late?"

"I couldn't sleep," I say, walking over to where she's sitting. "What are you doing up this late?"

"Couldn't sleep either," she shrugs her shoulders and smirks.

"Why?"

I sit down next to her and lay my hands in my lap.

"Just thinking," she says, nudging me with her elbow. "What's your excuse?"

"Same as yours."

She tilts her head and then dips her chin down to look at me better. "What were you thinking about?"

I don't even want to say his name out loud because it'll just make me miss him more, but I have to. I don't keep anything from my mom.

"Nico."

Mom reaches over and places her hand over mine. "Aw, honey. What's wrong?"

"We're not on speaking terms right now. But before you say anything, it was my choice. And now I'm kind of regretting it."

Mom looks more upset than confused. "Why aren't you speaking?"

"It's complicated," I sigh.

"Love always is."

"What?" I remark, the 'L' word catching me off-guard.

"Love. It's complicated. It's messy and confusing. Overwhelming." When I look at her without saying anything, she goes on. "One look is worth a thousand words, Isabella darling. And I see the way that you look at that boy. I know love when I see it."

"Is it really love, though, if it's one-sided?"

"Sure. Why can't it be?"

"I don't know," I pause. "Maybe it's just in my head. Maybe my love for him isn't real."

Mom smirks at my response. "I think it's so real that it scares you."

"Just like your feelings for Adam scare you?" She moves her back closer to the headboard and lets out a deep breath. "Is that why you couldn't sleep?"

"One of the reasons."

"And the other reasons?"

She looks at me closely. "I was thinking about what you said earlier tonight. Maybe I am afraid of getting my heart broken."

This time, I'm the one who reaches for her hand. "And that's okay, mom. That's normal. You haven't had it easy and I get why you're afraid. I know how strong you are, and you know how strong you are, but sometimes I think that you're afraid that you'll lose that strength if you give part of yourself to someone else."

Her eyes start to tear, and then mine do. "I just don't want to get hurt again."

"But you're hurting yourself more by not trying," I softly tell her.

"I know," she gazes ahead. I lay my head on her shoulder and look ahead, too.

"You know I'm always here for you, right?"

She leans her head on top of mine. "More than anything."

***

"Danny, Bella, can you both come in here for a second?" Wendy peeks open the kitchen door and asks. Danny and I look at each other, wondering what it could be.

"What's wrong?" Danny asks once we both enter the back room.

"Wrong?" Wendy repeats. "Oh, nothing! I called you both in here because I need a favor. We just got a call for a massive delivery. Now normally, I'd have Charlie do it alone, but this order is so big that I need two people to help out. You can decide between the two of you who's going to accompany Charlie, but this order needs to go out within the next five minutes. So, try and decide quickly."

Wendy exits the room, and Danny and I turn to face each other. "I'm good to go if you want to stay here," Danny offers. "It's totally up to you."

"I can do it. Plus, I should probably get the hang of deliveries in case I have to handle them in the future when you're not in."

"Fair," Danny says as he leans in closer, covering his mouth with his hand to whisper, "Just a heads up, Charlie is the slowest driver known to mankind."

"I'll keep that in mind," I smile. I begin to walk past him, but he stops me before I can make it to the door.

"Bella," he calls out, and I turn around. "If you're not busy tomorrow night, I'd love to take you to this bonfire on the beach. If you're up for it, of course."

I look at him and grin. "I'm totally up for it."

***

I meet Charlie at the delivery car. He's a little nerdy, but a sweet guy.

And...a slow driver.

"Here we are," Charlie says as we approach the metal gate of our destination.

"The Bradford house?" I ask him. "This is where we're going?"

"Yup, 2892 Ocean Boulevard. At least that's what it says on the receipt."

Right now I'm wishing that Danny was the one who took my place. Pulling up to Nico's house was not what I was expecting. I'd ask to stay in the car, but Wendy wasn't kidding when she said that this was a massive order. There's no way that Charlie can carry everything to the house by himself.

Charlie rings the intercom on the gate, and I immediately know the voice of the person who picks up. It's Hayley - the Bradford's house assistant.

"Hi, uh, hello," Charlie awkwardly says into the speaker. "This is Charlie from Sweets. I have a delivery for Mark Bradford."

"Oh, yes, perfect timing," Hayley says before buzzing us in.

Charlie eases his foot on the gas and we move slowly into the long road. It takes us a good minute to actually enter the driveway - that's how big Nico's property is.

"Holy crap, is this house for real?" Charlie asks once we make it to the front of the house.

"As real as it gets, Charlie," I mumble under my breath.

"How rich are these people?"

Rich, Charlie...very rich.

He pops open the trunk and we both walk around the car to grab the trays of food.

"I wonder who all this food is for," I say, hoping that Charlie can give me some sort of clue.

"I'm not sure, but Wendy did mention something about a business event."

We walk towards the two-story Mediterranean-inspired estate. I take in the smell of the beautiful landscaping, and memories begin to flood my mind. Memories of me, Nico, and Brooks playing soccer on the front lawn. Memories of us swimming in the rectangular pool. Memories of us watching movies in the theatre room.

"Bella?" Charlie calls out, and I immediately snap out of my thoughts.

"Yeah?"

"I was asking if you needed help holding something."

"Oh," I chuckle embarrassingly for not hearing him the first time. "Nope. I got it. Thanks."

Hayley opens the door and I instantly feel nervous about a potential run-in with Nico. She greets me differently than Charlie - with a hug - and then invites us to come in. I find myself gazing around the entire first floor, hoping to not see him. Fortunately, the coast is clear.

She leads us into the backyard where a bunch of businessmen are conversing with mimosas in their hands. I find myself holding up the aluminum trays to my face so that no one can make me out.

That doesn't last long, and I suddenly hear Nico's dad calling my name.

"Isabella Cooper, is that you?"

In this moment, I wish I were someone else; a stranger to the Bradfords. But clearly, I'm not, so I lower down the trays and smile at him.

Just like his wife, Mark Bradford doesn't age. Maybe it's the Botox, but he looks great. I hate giving him the compliment, though. He doesn't deserve it. He's wearing a fitted pinstripe suit and his gray hair is side-parted.

"Hi, Mr. Bradford."

He pouts his lips at me. "Isabella, you've known me since you were this tall," he says, dropping his hand down to his knees. "You should know better than to call me Mr. Bradford," he teases, but the friendliness in his tone is so obviously fake. "Does Nico know that you're here?"

"Oh," I laugh nervously, "no. We just came to drop off the food. Speaking of which, where would you like everything?"

"Here, follow me," he says before walking us over to this folding banquet table that's covered in a white silk cloth. "You can just place everything on top."

I look at Charlie, who I can tell is wondering how I know the Bradfords, and then quickly look away.

"Thanks," Mr. Bradford says once we lay everything out.

I look at Charlie and nudge my head towards the exit so that he knows I want to leave. "Well, it was great seeing you, Mr. Bradford. I mean...Mark," I say, but he's not paying me any attention. Instead, his focus is shifted ahead.

"Well, would you look at that?" Mr. Bradford calls out. "Looks like my son's actually on time for once."