I glance at Ethan. Jaw tight, fingers flexing around his glass. That’s the medal he’d give me, I think. Maybe even a little more. And somehow, in the middle of this beautiful, ridiculous chaos, I realize: I fit here. I belong here. And I might just want to stay.
Dinner goes late. Like…late-late. Ethan does the “Dad voice” and tells Lily it’s bedtime, but she’s having none of it.
“Bed? Now? But Nana hasn’t metFredyet!” she shrieks like this is a human rights violation.
“Fred?” Charlotte repeats, delighted. “Is Fred a person or a creature?”
“Hamster,” Lily says proudly. “He runs very fast. Like Lucky!”
I choke on my drink. “He doesnotrun like me. I trip over my own boots.”
But Lily grabs her grandmother’s hand and Charlotte’s scarf in the other and drags them down the hallway like she’s leading a royal procession into her room.
The moment they disappear, I stand, smoothing my jeans. “Alright. I should—”
“I’ll walk you,” Ethan says.
I blink at him. “Ethan. Your house is literally—”
“Still walkingyou.”
I snort. “You’re impossibly British.”
“Occupational hazard,” he mutters, grabbing his keys.
We step out into the quiet. Crickets. Cool night air. A breeze that smells like pine and someone’s barbecue from afar because there isn’t another house for miles.
“My family,” he says. “They can be a handful.”
I shove my hands into my pockets. “You don’t have to be sorry for your family. They’re… fun.”
His brow lifts. “Fun?”
“Chaotic fun. Big, loud, nosy… family fun.” I swallow. “Some people don’t get that. So you’re blessed.”
He stops walking for half a second—just long enough for the meaning to land. I didn’t mean it as a confession, but it hangs in the air between us anyway.
He clears his throat. “I wasn’t trying to pry the other day.”
“I know.” I tap the side of my temple. “Trust me. I know when someone is prying.”
“And I wasn’t.”
“You weren’t.”
He exhales. “Doesn’t mean I’m not curious.”
I grin. “Then ask, Maddox.”
“…Do you—have family? Besides Lily harassing you and my mother force-feeding you wine?”
I laugh softly. “Banks. He’s probably the closest I have. He’s technically on payroll, but he cares. Enough.”
“That’s who you were talking to the other day?”
I wince. “Yeah. Sorry you overheard that.”
“You don’t have to apologize,” he says quietly. “And you don’t have to… endure my family next weekend. They can be… a lot.”
