Rhett was quiet for a moment. Then he said, “Doesn’t sound like a mistake to me.”
My throat tightened.
I risked a glance over. His gaze was steady—no jokes, no smirk. Just listening. Justseeing me.
“I think,” I said slowly, “part of why I was so reluctant when my designation came in was… I didn’t want to turn out like her. To lose control. Toleavepeople behind.”
He didn’t speak right away. His hand slid across the console and rested palm up, open, between us.
Not reaching for me. Just there if I wanted it.
I let my fingers slip into his.
“Wren,” he said, voice low and sincere, “you arenothinglike her.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I’ve seen the way you hold yourself back. The way youfightfor control. That’s not weakness. It’s strength. You didn’t run. You stayed. And if you hadn’t, we never would’ve had this.”
My chest ached in a different way now. “You really are good at this, you know,” I said quietly.
“At what?”
“Seeing people.”
He gave me a smile that was half-shy, half-devastating. “I like seeing you.”
The silence after that wasn’t awkward. It was full of breath, feeling, and something deep that didn’t need to be named out loud.
I squeezed his hand once and let go, easing the car into the slow curve of the freeway ramp. He didn’t protest. He just leaned back again, one leg stretched long, one hand behind his head.
“By the way,” he said after a moment, the grin returning like sunlight through clouds, “passenger penis offer still stands. Long drive? Road trip? Stop-and-go traffic? I’m your guy.”
I barked a laugh so hard it shook me.
“Jesus, Rhett,” I wheezed, wiping my eyes.
“Hey, you get snacks and entertainment,” he said, smug. “It’s apackage deal.”
“Oh my god,” I groaned, but I couldn’t stop smiling. Not even a little.
Somewhere in the back of my mind, I realized that the ache in my chest was starting to feel a lot likehope.
We stopped about an hour outside the city at a little gas station with a drive-thru coffee hut and a convenience store that promisedhot snacksin flickering neon.
Everyone stretched their legs, and I took my time inside, grabbing two iced coffees, one hot, and a pile of snacks that looked like they’d been fried yesterday and kept under a heat lamp out of spite. Rhett made a delighted noise like I’d brought him a bouquet of chicken tenders when I handed him his coffee and a greasy paper bag.
Roan was finishing up at the pump when I walked over, the wind lifting strands of my hair across my cheeks. He glanced at me over the top of the SUV.
“If you want a break,” he said casually, “I’ll take Rhett the rest of the way. No problem.”
I blinked, then shook my head, a smile tugging at my mouth. “I don’t mind dropping him off.”
Roan nodded once, like he expected that answer, but something flickered in his expression when I didn’t immediately turn to go.
And before I could second-guess it, I said, “Hey… would you guys want to come over later? For dinner or something. I have no idea what’s actually in my fridge, but we could eat. Talk.”
The words tumbled out too naturally. No big drama. Just a soft, open offer. But a part of me held still after saying them, braced without meaning to.
