I felt Clara’s gaze on me, warm and steady.Mom’s, too.And Brody’s.
Something like relief flickered across their faces, and it hit me with a sharp pang:
I couldn’t remember the last time I laughed.
Adam returned with too much food, plates spilling across the table until there was barely room for drinks.He sat with us, talking about plans for the holidays, rattling off ideas about which nights the Palmers would host and which nights the Morgans should.
I tried to focus on his words, tried to let the normalcy wash over me.But all I could feel was Brody.
He’d pulled his chair close to mine, close enough that my shoulder brushed his arm every time I shifted.He didn’t say much, but his presence was constant, solid, grounding.
For the first time since Andrew in my apartment, since the fear and the sirens and the whispers, I felt… safe.
And that terrified me more than anything.
The conversation drifted easily around the table, Adam taking up most of the air the way he always did when he was excited about something.
“…biggest night of the year,” he said, gesturing wildly with his fork.“New Year’s Eve is gonna be insane.Live music, champagne at midnight, the whole nine yards.”
Clara smiled faintly.“Sounds like you’ve thought of everything.”
Adam leaned back in his chair, stretching one arm over the backrest, his grin widening as his gaze slid deliberately to me.“Almost everything.”
I narrowed my eyes.“What?”
“I need you.”
I blinked.“Excuse me?”
He leaned forward, elbows braced on the table like this was a negotiation he’d been preparing for.“New Year’s Eve is gonna be packed, Cass.I need someone I trust to help out behind the bar.Just for the night.Pouring drinks, looking gorgeous, making me look good.”
I almost choked on my soda.“No.Absolutely not.”
“Cassidy…” He dragged my name out like a threat and a plea all at once.“Come on, you used to bartend in college.You’d be perfect.And I promise, it’ll be fun.You need a little fun.”
I stared at him, deadpan.“Your definition of fun and mine are not the same, Palmer.”
“Yeah, mine’s better.”He winked, earning a laugh from Clara and a cheeky eyeroll from Mom.
Before I could retort, Brody shifted in his chair beside me, his arm brushing mine like an accident, though I wasn’t sure it was.“I’ll be there,” he said casually, though his tone was anything but.
My head snapped toward him.“What?”
“Working security.”He didn’t look at me, his gaze fixed firmly on Adam instead, but his meaning wasn’t subtle.“Crowd like that?We’re not taking chances.”
Adam grinned, unbothered.“See?Even better.You’ll have Brody watching your back.”
The heat crept up my neck, my mind spinning at the thought of standing behind the bar while people stared, whispered, watched, but with Brody there, close enough to keep them all at bay, close enough that maybe I could trust myself to breathe again.
Adam must’ve seen the hesitation crack in my expression because he pounced, relentless.
“It’s one night,” he said softly, leaning forward now, his voice dropping so only I could hear.“You’ve been hiding long enough, baby cakes.You deserve one night where you don’t feel small.Where you remember who the fuck you are.”
The words hit deeper than I wanted them to.
Clara squeezed my hand under the table, silent but steady.
I glanced at Mom, who was pretending not to listen but clearly hanging on every word, her expression carefully neutral.
