Nephews.
I cupped my hand over my stomach and imagined my two little boys, who would grow up with this amazing group of friends who were more like family. They’d be loved beyond reason. Spoiled and cared for, never once having to wonder who or where home was.
The rest—the fears and worries that came with having babies—Elias and I would figure it out.
From the back of the restaurant, Jasmine’s laughter rang out the loudest, followed by a loud protest: “Not fair, Everly!”
When Javier threw his and Delaney’s trash away, I expected them to meet up with the rest of the group. Instead, Javier hoisted his bookbag onto his back and sat in front of us with Delaney taking the empty chair beside him. Javier unzipped his bag and pulled out the skateboard he and his friends had built.
Carefully, he handed it to me, and I examined it, turning it upside down to spin the wheels. While it wasn’t a full-size skateboard, it wasn’t all that small either. I wasn’t sure how he fit it inside his bag.
“Y’all made this?” I asked, my surprise bleeding through my voice.
The board was sturdy but lightweight, crafted fromsmooth, natural wood with a pattern so striking I couldn’t decide if it was designed or simply the wood showing itself off. Grip tape framed the deck. I ran my fingers along the edge, wondering if they’d keep the natural finish or use the design Aidas had told me about.
“Yeah.” He nodded. “It took us a couple of weeks and some failed attempts, but—” He shrugged.
“This is amazing, Javi,” I said, testing the nickname again.
He didn’t flinch or correct me, but gave a short, shy smile.
I turned the board over again, running my hand over the rough surface of the deck.
“Have you tried it out yet?”
He chuckled. “Yeah.”
“Kieren wasn’t very good at it,” Delaney added with a smirk.
“He’ll get better,” I said. “If he wants to and keeps at it.”
“Can you ride a skateboard?” Delaney asked me.
“It’s been a few years, but I used to know how.”
“She’s being modest,” Ryenne said. “Teddy was a beast, shredding up the streets of our small town.”
I laughed. “You’re saying a lot of words, but I don’t think you’re using them correctly.”
Javier covered his smile. “You aren’t.”
“Whatever.” She waved him away. “I’m old. I’m allowed.”
Delaney let out a soft laugh. “What’s old in human terms?”
“Oh no, little MissEighty- or Ninety-Year-Old, we’re not going there.”
Delaney’s laugh grew louder. “Is eighty old in human years?”
“Eighty is knocking on death’s door,” Ryenne told her.
“So you’re younger than eighty?”
“What?” Ryenne turned to me, her expression that of mock offense. “She’s not serious right now, is she?”
Delaney bowed her head to hide her growing smile, her jet-black, almost blue hair falling to fan over her face. Javier tucked a curl behind her ear.
“Don’t listen to Ry,” he told her. “She’s clinically insane.”
