I know what she means. My hand settles against her back. My palm fits her easily, in a way it didn’t only a few months ago. May told me that I’d grown, but now with Kenny curled against me, I can actually feel it.
All of us are growing up. “It won’t change anything. Jake and Max will stay here. They’re gonna work on the house. We’ll come home for the holidays. And when we’re finished…,”
“You’ll be a pack,” Ken whispers. Her words are hesitant, and my chest squeezes. Contracts. “You’ll come home, right?”
This isn’t a conversation for us. Not just us. Not alone.
I take a breath. Breathing in sweet cherry, the warm scent of chocolate. So familiar, and yet not. “We.We’llcome home, Ken.”
There is no home for me without you.
Her smile grows slightly. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” I say roughly. My hand strokes down, her lips parting. “We’re gonna build a really good one, Ken. All of us.”
My mind drifts to Brett, but I shove the thoughts away. They don’t belong here, in this moment.We’ll work it out.
I want that. More than I’ve ever wanted anything.
“I’ve never had a proper home.” Her smile dims slightly. “That sounds… nice.”
I study her. Kenny… her house isn’t ahome. I know that, know that it hurts her. I know that her dad’s an asshole that she rarely sees. She craves stability. Needs it, even, thanks to her biology.
Maybe I need it too. Or maybe I just understand it.
I don’t have a home either.
“We’re coming home, Ken.” I whisper it. Like a promise, just for the two of us. “And we’re all gonna be together. I’m going to make sure of it. Okay? Don’t ever doubt it.”
She searches my face. “Okay.”
We should go down. But I can’t bring myself to move. So I blurt out the first thought that comes into my mind. “We can play board games.”
Her lips twitch. Kenny’s eyes brighten. “I like board games.”
Thank god for that. I shove the embarrassment away. “Me too. Pack game night it is.”
She looks on the verge of laughter. “Snake and ladders?”
I can see it. There, on the edges of my mind. “There needs to be popcorn. A tray for different toppings. Tacos, obviously.”
She hums, smiling against my skin. “Blankets.”
A nest. Her own space, carved out in the middle of our pack. At the heart of it. “All the blankets. And… pillows.”
“Socks.” She ducks her head. “Fluffy socks. Hoodies. And candles.”
I press my lips to the top of her head. “All the candles. So many candles we’ll feel sick. What else? What do you want it to look like?”
I’m taking notes.
Her forehead scrunches. “No windows.”
My head bobs in a nod. “No windows. Lights?”
“Little ones.” She’s wearing her deep thought face, and I watch every flicker as she thinks about it. “Snacks are a must. And drinks.”
“Obviously.” I breathe her in again. “Can’t get dehydrated.”
