I swing my legs off the bed again and cross to the suitcase. It lurks open-mouthed where I left it.
“I heard you,” I tell it.
Then I take the neatly folded blouse on top and, very maturely, fling it onto the chair. My blazer follows. The shoes get relocatedto the closet. The travel-size toiletries go back into the bathroom one by one.
By the time I’m done, the suitcase is more empty than full. Not exactly ready to bolt for the airport.
I turn my back on it deliberately, and grab my phone before I can second-guess myself.
Me:I’m staying for the game tomorrow night.
Chapter twenty-four
Felix
The fire’s going to die any minute now.
I should put another log on, but my body’s on strike. Maybe it thinks that if I stay exactly like this—sprawled on the couch, staring at the ceiling—maybe time will get confused and skip tomorrow.
Yeah. Right.
Liam’s in the armchair by the window, a book open in his lap. He hasn’t turned a page in half an hour. His eyes are fixed on some random point, fingers tapping a restless rhythm on the armrest.
In the kitchen, another cabinet door shuts a little too hard. Silas has been “tidying” since dinner. From here, I can tell he’s now on his third pass of the same drawers. Alphabetical spices. Again.
“December twenty-second,” I say, to no one.
Liam’s fingers pause.
“In six hours,” I add, “it’ll be the twenty-third.”
Two years since she walked out and our reality collapsed.
And tomorrow we’re supposed to lace up and smile for the cameras like it’s any other game.
“Want to talk about it?” Liam asks, eyes still on that one spot.
“Nope.”
“Want to drink until we forget what day it is?”
“Tempting. Still nope.”
He huffs, almost a laugh. “Then what?”
“I want to fast-forward,” I mutter. “Wake up on the twenty-fourth with this all behind us. We could still pull out, you know. Sudden outbreak of food poisoning, tragic but unavoidable.”
“You don’t mean that,” Liam says, finally closing the book. “We agreed. We said we’d stop letting this date own us.”
“Yeah, don’t even joke about bailing,” Silas calls from the kitchen. His footsteps thud closer; a second later he’s leaning in the doorway, beer dangling from his hand. “We can’t back down now.”
He's right, obviously. We did agree. Growth. Healing. Facing our demons, yada yada. Hard to walk that back, especially after telling Naomi not to let fear control her life this afternoon. Backing out would be the ultimate hypocrisy.
Ahhh, Naomi.
Is she even still in Lakeview? She could already be in Manhattan by now, relieved to be done with three messy alphas and their equally messy feelings.
My chest squeezes and I sit up. “Getting a beer.”
