Her voice is muffled. “If Cameron let you walk away last night, does that mean he likes you again?”
I laugh. “That’s how Rhodes men show affection, apparently.”
She lifts her head. “He didn’t kick you out.”
“Nah.” I shake my head, watching her face carefully. “He’s your brother, and you both just went through a lot. I can see his side, even if he didn’t have the extra stress going on.”
Her throat works. “Yeah.”
I reach up and tuck a piece of hair behind her ear, slow and careful. “But he also…he didn’t tell me I couldn’t be with you. Not that I’d listen to him anyway.”
Sloane goes still, then she swallows and looks away, blinking too fast like she’s trying to keep her emotions from getting the best of her.
“I told him,” she whispers.
“I think he already knew,” I say, honestly.
She finally looks back at me, eyes shining but steady. “And he still didn’t completely kick your ass.”
I chuckle at that. “No.”
Sloane’s lips part like she’s about to say something huge.
Then she shakes her head once, like she’s not ready to let it out into the air.
Instead, she pokes my bruised cheek lightly, just to be a menace.
“You’re going to look like a very tragic book boyfriend for at least three days.”
I wiggle my brows at her. “You think this is sexy?”
She pretends to consider it. “It’s giving…”
“I got punched by my best friend for falling for his sister,” I correct.
She smiles wider. “That tracks.”
I roll my eyes, but my chest is warm.
Because she’s laughing.
Because she’s teasing.
Because for a few seconds, grief isn’t driving the car.
“Do you feel okay?” I ask quietly, letting the humor settle into something softer.
Sloane’s smile fades into something more honest. She nods once, slowly.
“I’m…functioning,” she says. “Which is new.”
I watch her. “Is it real functioning, or is it the kind where you’re pretending and your body’s just…on autopilot?”
Her eyes flicker, then soften. “Both.”
I nod like I expected that answer.
Sloane shifts, then looks at me like she’s making a decision. “I didn’t cry all day yesterday.”
