He says nothing for a second, letting my words soak into the stale air.
“Cece used to sit on the bench at my games. Yell at the refs. She got a warning once for threatening to break a ref’s kneecaps.”
I can’t keep the laughter in.
“She’s a lot,” he adds. “But she’s my person.”
That hits me harder than it should. I pick at the small hole in my sleeve. “I get that.”
We’re quiet again, but it’s a different kind of quiet. There’s an understanding between us now. He comes across as so together, so perfect. I thought it was true. But it’s not. He’s got his fair share of family dysfunction, but it’s nice to know he has someone to share it with.
“You’re not what I thought,” I say finally.
“Neither are you.”
I glance over. “You still might be an asshole.”
“Still might be an influencer.”
We both smirk.
Celeste takes first place in all her categories except modern. She hates modern but still snags second place. She tries to pretend she’s chill about it, but I catch her grinning into her phone as she brags to her friends.
Beau drives us home. Celeste crashes in the backseat before we’re halfway there, shiny gold trophy clutched to her chest as if she thinks we’ll try to steal it.
“Thanks,” I say.
He doesn’t look over. “Anytime.”
We pull into the driveway, but I don’t reach for the door yet.
“You want to come in?” I ask.
His eyebrows rise.
“Just for five minutes. Celeste made you a cupcake. She’ll hunt you down if you say no.”
He kills the engine and follows me up the stairs without saying a word.
Chapter 26
Real & Raw
Beau
Bluebeardsprawlsacrosstheback of the couch like it’s his own personal throne. One paw dangles over the edge, tail flicking lazily. Luna’s kneeling on the couch beside him, scratching his chin while murmuring nonsense as if he understands. The cat leans into it with all the trust in the world.
Figures. The cat gets a more affectionate goodbye than I do.
I lean against the kitchen doorway, mug warming my hands. There’s something inexplicably grounding about watching her like this. Hoodie askew, yesterday’s makeup ghosting the corners of her eyes, hair barely hanging on in the loose bun she threw up last night. There’s glitter stuck to her cheek from Celeste’s overzealous goodbye hug. She doesn’t seem to notice.
My eyes fixate on the trail of sparkles, but not in the usual way. Untidiness, day-old makeup. Normally, that’s the sort of thing that would itch at my brain. Bother me until I swiped it away. But it looks good on her. Perfect really. I can’t stop staring.
“I think he loves me more than he loves you,” she says, not looking up.
“Unlikely,” I murmur, sipping my coffee. “He’s just using you for your long nails.”
Her usual smile is sharp, and a little guarded. But this one is softer, genuine. The kind I want to earn. She scratches behind Bluebeard’s ears one last time. Then she straightens with a stretch, arms overhead, hoodie riding up just enough to make my breath catch. It’s nothing. Skin and shadow. But my body still reacts like it’s something seismic.
