Brutal. And possibly prophetic.
Bennett clears his throat, breaking through my thoughts. “You don’t have to do anything right now. Believe it or not, you don’t even have to map the whole thing out. But maybe stop torturing yourself like you’re the villain in a story that definitely has another side.”
I glance at him. “What would you do?”
He grins. “I’d kiss her again. See where that leads.”
“Not helpful.”
“Realistic. You can tell yourself you're not gonna fall for her all you want, but that doesn't change the fact that you already have. We don't get to choose how we feel.”
“Maybeyoudon’t.”
Bennett leans back, stretching. “You should bring her to Sunday dinner.”
My stomach tightens. “Lucy?”
“Yeah. Mom hasn’t seen her since she was, what, twelve?”
I stare like he’s lost his mind, but that doesn’t stop him from continuing.
“She’d love to see her again. Plus, getting you guys out of the house might be good, take the pressure off.”
I arch a brow. “Dinner with you, Grayson, Gideon, and our mother is your idea oflesspressure?”
He grins. “Only one way to find out.”
I stare into my glass.
I shouldn’t picture it.
Shouldn’t imagine her fitting in like she’salways belonged.
But the image comes anyway—fully formed, vivid, dangerous.
Lucy laughing across the table, her boot propped up, her hair pulled back, eyes sparking as she trades sarcasm with Bennett and war stories with Grayson and Gideon about Los Angeles and life with the rich and famous.
She’d fit. God help me, she’dfit.
I drain the rest of my drink and set the glass down harder than I mean to.
“Bring her,” Bennett says again. “Or don’t. But quit acting like you’ve committed a crime by caring about someone.”
“I’m not sure I know how to do this.”
He shrugs. “Do it anyway.”
I flare my hands in question—because what kind of answer is that?—as Cal appears at my elbow, quiet as a ghost. He nods at the empty glass in front of me.
“Want another?”
I shake my head.
He studies me for a beat, then sets a small white takeout box on the table.
“Grilled cheese,” he says. “Kitchen had an extra. Figured maybe you’d take it home to the girl.”
I blink. “I didn’t say anything about a girl.”
