By the time the city starts glowing orange against the glass, I’ve already wrapped every meeting, sent Jake home and cleared my schedule for the next twenty-four hours.
I close my laptop, lean back in my chair, and take in the skyline. Chicago looks sharp tonight—clean lines, golden light, endless movement. The kind of view that usually keeps me grounded.
But tonight, I can’t stop smiling.
Because soon, I get to go spar with my wife.
I can already picture her—hands on her hips, trying not to laugh while she tells me all the reasons she “didn’t have time” to pack.
And I can’t wait.
I spin my chair toward the window, phone in hand, and hit the contact I need.
Matthew answers on the second ring. “Langston. What’s up?”
“I need a favor.”
“Always dangerous coming from you.”
I chuckle. “Bring your truck to an address I’ll text you in a few.”
He hums. “You moving something or someone?”
“Both,” I admit.
There’s a pause, then a laugh. “I’ll be there.”
“Appreciate it.”
When the call ends, I’m still grinning—right up until a throat clears behind me.
I swivel in my chair, already sighing. “Let me guess. Dean couldn’t make it?”
Coleman stands in the doorway, arms crossed, that calm, controlled presence that makes everyone else in the room sit up a little straighter. Nathan’s leaning against my desk, looking too entertained for his own good, and Harvey—big, tattooed, and perpetually unimpressed—has taken up position near the door like he’s guarding it.
Coleman shrugs. “Practice. He said to tell you not to do anything stupid.”
“Noted.”
“Where are my favorite girls?” I ask him.
Coleman’s expression softens instantly. “With Remi at the record store.”
I smile. I’ve known the twins since they were born. They’re trouble wrapped in glitter and sass, and I love them like they’re my own blood.
Nathan kicks back in the chair he’s claimed. “Better question—why do you need a truck?”
I glance between them. “To move my wife’s things.”
Coleman raises a brow. “About that…”
I sigh. I’ve never lied to these men, and I’m not about to start now.
So I tell them. Everything. How it started, why it happened, and what it’s become.
When I finish, they’re all staring at me.
Then Harvey speaks from the doorway, voice low. “So why not ask me for a truck?”
