The sight hits me somewhere tender and unexpected.
For a second, my instincts hesitate—like they're waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Then someone looks up and grins.
"Vee!"
The warmth in his voice makes my throat tighten.
I set the trays down carefully on the side table, arranging them the way I always do—cookies in the middle, finger foods fanned out.
"Holy shit," Tyler says, eyes going wide. "You baked."
I give a small shrug. "It's poker night."
"It's been poker night," James says, already reaching for a cookie. "But it hasn't beenVeepoker night. You haven’t baked in a while."
A couple of them murmur agreement, heads nodding as they snag snacks.
"We missed your treats," Michael says with quiet sincerity.
The words land softly and heavy all at once.
My shoulders loosen a fraction. There's a spot open between Jasper and Tyler, and Jasper pats the cushion with an exaggerated flourish.
"Seat of honor," he declares.
"Seat of victimhood," Tyler counters. "So we can watch her steal our money up close."
I huff a laugh and settle between them. The cushions dip under my weight. The familiarity of being tucked into the group—surrounded by friendly scents and easy voices—makes something in my chest unclench.
Drake drops into his seat with a dramatic sigh, fanning the deck of cards.
"Gentlemen, please keep your hands and emotions inside the ride at all times. I cannot be held responsible for the devastation I am about to cause."
Groans and laughter ripple around the room.
"Don't you have a Hippocratic oath or something?" someone calls.
"I’m a nurse, not a doctor," Drake replies cheerfully. “That’s Eli’s problem. Besides, the oath doesn't cover poker-related injuries."
He deals the first round like he's on stage—cards snapping against the wood, wrists flicking. Every time someone complains, he makes it worse on purpose, smirking.
It's ridiculous.
It's perfect.
Across the table, Eli catches my eye.
It's small—just a glance—but his smile is steady and encouraging.You're doing good,it says. Isee you.
I hold his gaze for a heartbeat longer than I should, then look down at my cards.
Chips clack as people ante up. Someone shuffles their stack into a lopsided tower. Someone else knocks theirs over immediately and curses.
"Graceful," Drake says, delighted.
"Shut up."
