"Hey, he has character! Even if his eyes do follow you around the room."
Xander appears, wearing the most aggressively festive Christmas sweater I've ever seen, complete with actual blinking lights. "Ready to abandon us?"
"You're the one who suggested remote work," I remind him.
"Because you're too good to lose over something as simple as geography." He drops into my spare chair. "Though if being at home gets too boring, your desk will be here. Minus the rubber duck army, which I assume are non-negotiable departing members."
"They're my coding partners," I say with complete seriousness. "Very crucial to the creative process."
"Right." Xander's eyes crinkle. "Nothing to do with a certain someone's backyard duck sanctuary?"
"Does everyone know about that?!"
"Nothing gets past me. Plus, Jules is bad at keeping secrets, should have really warned you about that on your first day." He chuckles.
"Hey, I heard that!" She throws tinsel at his head
"Thanks for taking a chance on me," I say. "Even when I definitely didn't deserve it."
"You always deserved it." Xander stands, clapping my shoulder. "You just needed to believe it yourself."
The walk to Matt's place feels different tonight. It could be because it's my last night in Boston, or maybe it's the way the lights blur through the floor-to-ceiling windows of their apartment on the forty-second story. The view still gets me every time—the whole city sprawled out like a jewel box, the Charles River winding silver in the distance.
I let myself in with my spare key, and I'm immediately hit by the smell of . . .burning?
"Don't panic!" Sarah's voice carries from their massive open-concept kitchen. "Everything's under control!"
I round the corner to find, what looks like a flour bomb, has gone off. Sarah stands in the middle of it all, chocolate smeared across one cheek, determinedly stabbing at something smoking in a tray.
"Do I want to know?"
"I wastryingto make that chocolate lava cake you like." She blows a strand of hair from her face. "But apparently baking is harder than corporate law."
"You didn't have to—"
"Yes, I did." She abandons the cake massacre to hug me, getting flour all over my shirt. "You're leaving tomorrow. Let me have my emotional baking moment."
The front door clicks, and Matt's voice carries through the apartment. "Why does it smell like someone's committing arson?"
"Your wife's trying to poison me before I leave," I call back.
Matt appears in the doorway, looking every inch the young professional in his tailored suit and loosened tie. But his grin is pure teenage troublemaker as he takes in the chaos. He crosses to Sarah, spinning her around and dipping her into a kiss.
"Jesus Christ, my eyes." I cover my face dramatically. "At least wait until I'm gone."
Matt pulls back enough to smirk at me, his hand sliding down to grab Sarah's ass. "Oh trust me, little bro, we're counting down the hours. Do you know how long it's been since we could have sex in the kitchen without worrying about your trauma?"
Sarah squeaks, smacking his chest even as she laughs. "Matthew!"
"What? I'm just saying, that island's about to see some action—"
"I'm moving back home to escape this," I groan, but I'm fighting a grin. "You two are worse than teenagers."
"Says the guy who once walked in on us in the shower—" Matt starts.
"We agreed never to speak of that!" I throw a handful of flour at him. "I still need therapy."
"Therapy's expensive," Matt says, waggling his eyebrows at his wife. "Know what's free? Kitchen counter—"
