And Havoc, all rough edges and sharp silence,melts.
Not in some obvious, sentimental way.
But in the way his shoulders drop a fraction.
The way his jaw stops grinding.
The way his eyes follow her like she’s the only thing that makes sense.
It’s the smallest shift. But I see it. And it makes something tighten deep in my chest.
I don’t even know them.
But I know I’ve never had anything like that.
And suddenly, I want to.
I want that.
Something solid.
Something safe that doesn’t feel like a cage.
“You doing okay out here?” Sage asks gently.
I nod. “Better than I thought I would.”
Not a lie.
Not the whole truth either.
But enough for now.
“You just moved to Lovestone Ridge?”
“Yeah. About a month ago,” I murmur. “Was planning to stay.” I hesitate. Then add, “But plans changed.”
Sage doesn’t push. Just waits.
I glance down at the plate in my hands. “Anyway. I didn’t open the coffee truck yesterday. Didn’t call in. I probably lost the job.”
Havoc finally speaks. “You didn’t.”
I look up. “How?”
“You didn’t quit. You had to leave. That’s not the same.”
“I didn’t open the truck—”
“You’re covered,” he says.
I blink. “Someone’s running it?”
Sage bites into her cake, eyes sparkling. “You’ll love this part.”
I narrow my eyes. “Who?”
She lets the moment hang. Then: “Viper.”
