"You alive in there, Shortcake?" His voice carries through the door, snapping me out of my spiral.
I emerge to find him sprawled in the armchair, scrolling through his phone. The late afternoon sun strikes his profile, and breath catches sharp in my lungs at how effortlessly beautiful he is.
"Hey," I say, trying to sound normal, and not like I just spent ten minutes overthinking everything. "Mind if I call Vinnie first? Want to check on Salem and the ducks."
He watches me rifle through my bag. "Yeah, go ahead."
"Of course it's dead," I mutter, glaring at the blank display.
"Here." He tosses his phone to me without hesitation. "Use mine."
I catch it and the screen comes alive—right on an email I was never meant to see.
Re: Junior Developer Position. Pixel Dreams Gaming.
My eyes scan automatically: ". . .still interested in discussing your potential with our team. . ." and "your innovative approach to environmental storytelling shows exactly the fresh perspective we're looking for. . ." I quickly click away, but the words are already branded into my brain. Something warm and proud blooms in my chest. Because of course Caleb's good enough for a gaming company to headhunt him. He's always been brilliant, even if he's the only one who doesn't see it.
I look up and catch him staring. There's a rawness there, like he's bracing for me to saysomething.
"Are you having a moment with my phone right now? Should I leave you two alone?" he teases softly, then flashes that crooked smile. All dimples and deflection.
I pull up FaceTime, tucking the email away for later. Right now, I need the comforting chaos of my furry children, before I say something stupid like, "You're too talented to keep pretending you belong behind a pizza counter."
Vinnie's face fills the screen, her hair in a messy bun as she settles in for a night of pet-sitting. "Miller! To what do I—oh, Ivy!" Her smile widens. "Please tell me you pushed Virginia into the fountain after that lap dance display. Me and Amelia have a bet going on."
My entire face ignites. "That's not . . . I didn't . . ."
A low chuckle sounds behind me, and Caleb's there, leaning over my shoulder. "Hi, Vinnie."
"Hey, Caleb." She singsongs, her grin turning devious as she watches him settle next to me on the couch—his thigh pressed against mine, his arm stretched behind me, fingers toying with my braid.
The moment he touches the loose hairs at the nape of my neck, a shiver races through me. I try to stay still and ignore the goosebumps prickling up my arms.
"Salem's sulking because I won't let him eat your plants." Vinnie recovers first, but I catch the way her eyes track every casual touch like she's collecting evidence. The camera pans to show my black cat sprawled next to her. "And the ducks are . . . hold on." There's shuffling as she moves outside. "There we go!"
My heart melts as four fluffy bodies waddle into view. Seven weeks old, and already tiny terrorists.
"Look at them! They're getting huge."
"How's my guy doing?" Caleb leans closer, and I bite back a smile at his attempt to sound casual. For someone who claims not to play favorites, he checks on Ducky more than the others combined.
"Getting more punk by the day," Vinnie says, and his whole face lights up. "Though he and Quackie Chan have formed an unlikely alliance."
"No way." His breath tickles my ear. "The troublemaker duo?"
"Actually, Ducky's become his emotional support bird. They're inseparable." Vinnie's eyes gleam. "So . . . if Ivy's the mom, does that make you the dad? You did kind of co-parent them."
Heat floods my cheeks. But before I can stammer out a response, Caleb grins. "Shared custody. I get them weekends and during major sporting events."
"Plus alternating holidays," I add weakly, and heat blooms where he traces patterns on my shoulder.
"Hey, how's The Cozy Canvas?" I try changing subjects. "And Ethan's summer school program is starting soon, right? And—"
"Everything's fine, nothing new, totally boring," Vinnie rushes out, waving away my questions like they're fruit flies. "But you two should definitely enjoy your evening. Together. Alone."
"Vinnie—"
"Oh, would you look at the time!" She checks her bare wrist. "Salem needs his dinner. Take lots of pictures! Preferably with Caleb."
