Alex points at me like he’s just won something and slaps his hand against the counter. “Yes!”
Derek just watches me, something unreadable flickering across his expression.
Despite myself, I laugh. The sound surprises all of us.
Derek’s gaze sharpens, relief flashing there before he schools it away.
“How are you feeling?” Mark asks, gentler now.
I chew, swallow, and consider. “Okay. Still… off. Like my emotions are lagging behind my body.”
“That tracks,” Mark says.
Derek leans forward, elbows and forearms braced on the island, moving closer without crowding me. His voice drops, soft. “You ordered water.”
I blink. “I did?”
“You did,” he says. “You barely touched the drink. But the water?—”
He stops.
Doesn’t finish.
Doesn’t need to.
“That was supposed to be the safe part,” I whisper.
His jaw tightens. “I know.”
The room goes quiet — not tense, just heavy.
I suddenly feel very tired.
“Shannon okay?” I ask.
“She went home,” Mark says. “Levi stayed with her. He threatened bodily harm if we didn’t keep him updated.”
That earns a faint smile from me. “That sounds right.”
“Boyfriend material?” Alex asks.
I laugh softly. “No. Gay bestie material.”
His brows lift. “Seriously?”
Pause.
“Damn,” Alex mutters. “I was ready to claim him as a wingman.”
"I don't see that working out," I tell him with a lop-sided grin.
We eat in companionable silence for a moment. Outside, the yard looks unreal — calm, green, untouched by the night before.
“I love your yard,” I say quietly. “It’s beautiful.”
“Planned it,” Derek says. “Don’t maintain it. I kill plants.”
I perk up. “So there is something Derek Pierce can’t do.”
