Claire held up one hand like a court witness being sworn in. “I’m going to speak for the group, and if any of y’all disagree, speak up.”
A round of nods traveled the group.
“Tai, you’re welcome here. No one sees you as broken.”
More nodding. Unbelievable.
Nova said, “Gosh, Tai, of course you’re welcome. I’m finallynotmad at you, dude. This makes so much sense, and it means you weren’t careless with your commitment to Claire. You broke off the partnership because you literally had no choice.”
“One hundred percent,” Logan said. “I’m more okay with you now than when I thought Claire was covering for you being a jerk to her.”
“But…but I’m…”I’m a bloodfiend.His brain was stuck on those three words, a looping confession, and he couldn’t get free of the loop.
“I’ve never met a bloodfiend before, as far as I know,” Mackey said, “but I’ve read up a little on it, just the basics. I can refrain from talking about my job, if you need me to. Not hard to figure out why that might be a bad subject for you.”
“I…” Tai looked around the cluster of them, still standing together, blocking the door, keeping him here. Keeping him. “I can stay?”
Their answers chimed together like the most generous music, variations of “yes” and “of course” and, in Nova’s case, “how many times do we have to tell you we want you?”
Maybe a few more. Because even now, he hardly believed it. His eyes burned, and he turned away to pinch between them, hold in the tide that rose to overflow his heart. He dragged in a ragged breath, and at the sound, they came to him. All of them. They surrounded him, hands on his shoulders, and then Philippa hugged him, and Mackey shook his hand. Everyone drifted back to their seats except Claire, who took his face between her hands and lightly, gently kissed him.
“Let us be your ensemble,” she whispered.
His laugh fractured, and a tear escaped down his cheek. Claire thumbed it away, then tugged his hand, and he followed her to a place on one of the couches, which the group had left open for them, the twins sprawling on the floor instead.
A hard shiver caught him, an aftermath of Mackey’s earlier description or of the upheaval inside him right now. Claire squeezed his hand, and he opened his mouth to say it was fine, but…it didn’t have to be. He’d promised to heed Peter’s advice.
He’d been making himself at home here since Ryker moved in. He crossed the room to the storage ottoman in the corner and got the thickest blanket in the house, navy-blue on one side, white Sherpa on the other. He draped it over his shoulders like a cape and returned to his spot next to Claire.
“Oh,” Leslie said, “is anybody else cold?”
A few head shakes.
Tai said, “It’s not the thermostat, Leslie. It’s me. It’s, um, a bloodfiend thing.”
“Really?” Ryker said. “You get extra cold?”
“Yeah.”
His best friend held his gaze for a long moment that promised deeper discussion later, and Tai nodded.
Then the whole room moved on with new conversations, comfortable chatter, cultivated friendships. And they included Tai. They asked real questions, got to know him. They didn’tside-eye his blanket-wrapped form. They treated him as one of them. Claire rested her head on his shoulder and tucked one arm around his, a whisper of protectiveness leftover in the tension of her body, but soon she relaxed too.
When most of the glasses and mugs were empty and taken to the dishwasher, Leslie gave everyone an updated tour of her art room, including her mountain diorama-in-progress.
“Now that I have two homes and two art rooms, I’m always working on two dioramas at once,” she said. “These sell through my online store, but there’s an art fair about an hour’s drive from here, and I’m looking into exhibiting there this summer.”
Tai stood a moment longer than the others in front of Leslie’s mountain. He studied the tiny details, the stream that appeared to trickle downward toward the base, the field of wildflowers painted in small dots and dashes of purple, yellow, and blue. He loved Leslie’s personal, intricate vision of nature and how she conveyed it with such peace and beauty.
Leslie came back to stand beside him. Quietly, though the others could overhear if they wanted to, she said, “You were brave tonight.”
He shrugged. His heart still felt a little flooded. “More like impulsive.”
“More like committed to authenticity.”
“If you’re that determined to see me in a positive light, I guess you can go ahead.” He couldn’t help smiling, though. Authenticity did matter to him.
Gradually they all found their way back inside, this time sprawling around the den. Logan suggested an icebreaker game; Philippa suggested a movie. They did both.
