**CHAPTER FOURTEEN.
The shift wasn’t announced.
It showed itself in small things — the way no one hesitated before including her in decisions, the way space adjusted around her without needing to be negotiated. She wasn’t being accommodated any more. She belonged.
That evening, the work finished later than usual. The air cooled quickly once the sun dipped, the land settling into quiet that felt earned rather than empty.
She found them by the fire pit behind the house.
Cole sat on one of the low benches, elbows resting on his knees, gaze fixed on the flames. Adrian stood nearby, arms crossedloosely, watchful even in rest. Tanner was the one who noticed her first, expression easing when he did.
“There you are,” he said, as if she’d only stepped away briefly. She took the empty seat between them without asking.
For a while, they said nothing. The fire crackled softly, sparks lifting into the dark. The quiet wasn’t awkward. It was companionable, layered with understanding rather than expectation.
Cole spoke first. “Staying changes things.”
“Yes,” she said.
“For all of us.”
“I know.”
He turned slightly towards her. “You don’t owe us anything for that choice.”
“I didn’t make it because I owed you,” she replied. “I made it because I wanted to be here.”
Adrian shifted closer — not touching, but present. “Then you should understand something too.”
She looked at him.
“When you stay,” he said, “you’re not on the edge of this any more.” Tanner smiled faintly. “You’re in.”
She absorbed that quietly, feeling the weight and the warmth of it settle together.
“This isn’t what I expected,” she admitted.
Cole’s mouth curved just slightly. “It rarely is.”
The fire popped, sending a brief flare of light across their faces. For the first time, she noticed how close they all were — not by accident, not by design, but because none of them had pulled away. She rested her hands on her knees, aware of the steady presence on either side of her.
“I’m not looking for promises,” she said. “I don’t need to be reassured.”
“Good,” Cole replied. “Neither are we.”
Adrian’s gaze met hers, direct and unguarded. “We respond to what’s real.”
“And what’s real,” Tanner added gently, “is that you chose us.” The word us landed differently now.
She nodded. “I did.”
Cole reached out then — not hurried, not possessive — and covered her hand with his. Solid. Warm. Intentional.
Adrian followed, his touch light but certain at her wrist. Tanner’s knee brushed hers, grounding, familiar.
No rush.
No claim spoken aloud.
