There’snothinglikethepromise of roast night to get every guy in the Sin Bin out of his cave. Even the ones who never show up for breakfast make it a point to crawl out for Killian’s roast.
I come down fresh from a hot shower, hair still damp at my temples, sweatpants slung low, and one of my old Blackthorne tees stretched tight across my chest. The kitchen is thick with the smell of garlic, rosemary and beef as I take the stairs two at a time, following the sound of clattering cutlery and half a dozen voices already sparring in the kitchen.
Killian’s at the stove, sleeves rolled up, cussing Ryan out for poking at the potatoes before they’re ready. Ryan looks deeply unrepentant, fingers covered in oil and grinning. Luca is slouched low with a sports mag open in front of him, but barely glancing at it, eyes half-lidded with that look he gets after a heavy practice.
Roman and Thorn are tossing a football back and forth over the kitchen island, ignoring Killian’s threats about broken crockery. Liam’s on his phone, one leg up on the bench, and Adrian’s helping stack drinks in the fridge, not saying much, headphones around his neck.
I drop down into the empty seat next to Luca, giving him a nudge with my elbow. “You miss me?”
He rolls his eyes, but his mouth twitches up. “Not even a little. You’re too loud.”
“Yeah, but you love me anyway.” I grin, then nod at Ryan, who drops down on my other side.
He immediately gives me a once-over, eyebrow raised. “Did you bring offerings to the table, or are you just here to freeload off my charm?”
“Your charm is the only thing less appetizing than your taste in music,” I shoot back, grinning. “You want a bite of my protein bar? It’s banana flavor.”
He groans, fakes gagging. “Keep your chalky athlete snacks away from me. This is roast night. Killian will murder you if you don’t eat real food.”
Luca lifts his eyes, searching my face for something. He sees it in a heartbeat—the softness, the afterglow that hasn’t faded even after a cold shower. He sets the magazine aside and nudges my shoulder. “You look different.”
“Different how?” I say, already bracing for it.
“Like you finally slept eight hours. Or got laid. Or maybe both?” His mouth twitches, daring me to deny it.
Ryan perks up, interested. “Oh, hell. Did you finally lock it down with Noah or what?”
I snort, shoving him lightly. “Yeah. We’re officially together now. We talked about everything that happened and why I really left, but he still wants me, so we’re gonna work through it, I guess.”
Ryan lets out a loud whoop and slaps my back so hard I nearly choke. “¡Por fin, puñeta!Bro, I was starting to worry you’d turn into a nun from all that pining.”
Luca’s smile is softer, proud in that big-brother way he reserves for moments like this. “Good for you, man. You deserve that.”
I grin, heat flooding my chest. “Thanks. We’ve got a lot to figure out, but… It’s worth it. He’s worth it.”
Ryan snorts. “You gonna start writing poetry next? Jesus, someone get this man a rose.”
“Fuck off,” I laugh, jostling him with my shoulder. “Just because you’ve never had feelings—”
He fakes offense. “Please. I have feelings. I feel hungry right now. And I feel like you’re about to get all sappy and make me lose my appetite.”
I roll my eyes, but can’t hide how relieved I feel. For once, there’s nothing to hide. Nothing to spin or dodge. I lean back and let the noise of the house fill me up, a steady hum I didn’t realize I missed.
“Details,” Ryan demands, nudging me with his knee under the table. “How’d it happen? Was it dramatic? Did you climb up to his balcony, Romeo?”
“Shut up,” I laugh. “You want the Hallmark version or the real one?”
“Real one, always.”
I shrug, suddenly shy, but Luca elbows me for it. “Come on, since when don’t you kiss and tell?”
I cave, grinning helplessly. “Something kinda happened between us at the pond, after he bossed me around for twenty minutes. Then we nearly kissed, and I freaked out, thinking I was being pushy. I spent the whole night losing my mind before showing up at his apartment like a lovesick idiot. Told himeverything. We talked it out, kissed, and cried a bit. It was… Honestly, it was perfect. I can’t believe it’s real.”
Ryan makes a face, but his eyes are soft. “You’re disgusting. I’m happy for you. Don’t ever make me hear the word ‘pond’ in that tone again.”
Killian chooses that moment to speak. “Shut up and set the table if you want to eat before midnight,” he orders, pulling out the big roast and testing it with a meat thermometer, brow furrowed in concentration. “Damien, grab plates. Ryan, you and Bishop get drinks and glasses. Luca, cut the bread. Adrian, cutlery. Liam, condiments. Eli, Jules—salads. Earn your fucking keep, peasants.”
“What about Thorn, Mommy? You didn’t give him a chore,” Ryan pouts as he and Roman walk towards the fridge.
