“Stop smiling like that.”
“Can’t,” I tell her. “That’s my Katie Prescott-loves-me-smile.”
She peeks at me through her fingers, exasperated and endearing as hell. “You’re silly.”
“I’m happy,” I correct. “Huge difference.”
She lowers her hands, and something shifts. The fight drains out of her, replaced by something raw and open.
She laughs, breathes shaky, like something inside her finally unclenches. “You’re going to ruin my five-year streak of determined independence.”
“Good,” I whisper against her mouth. “It was a terrible streak.”
Chapter forty-seven
Kate
The living room is in full preparation mode—bowls of M&Ms and chips lined up like soldiers, a stack of Monopoly money fanned across the coffee table, chance cards shuffled, property deeds squared, every game piece lined beside the board waiting to be claimed. On the surface, it looks like any other Friday night. But inside, my nerves flicker like loose wires.
Evie isn’t here, she packed a backpack this morning like she was leaving for college, marched into my mother’s house, and declared she “needed extra sleep for her birthday month.” Mom winked at me and said have fun tonight, which should have been a warning. The woman smells emotional upheaval like fresh pie.
I walk into the kitchen to find Cam leaning into the counter as casually as if we aren’t about to detonate our relationship status in front of our closest friends. He hands me a glass of wine, and watches me for a beat that stretches warm across my skin.
“It’s just our friends, you don’t need to fuss this much.” He laughs.
“I don’t know why I’m so nervous.” I rub my thumb along the edge of the counter, trying to contain the restless energy building in my ribs. “They already know everything. They’re the people we spend the most time with. This shouldn’t feel like news.”
His hand comes down over mine. “Yeah,” he says gently, “but tonight isn’t about strategy or custody anymore.” He waits until I meet his eyes. “Tonight we tell them that we’re in this because we want each other. Because we’re in love.”
My heart trips over itself.
“They love both of us,” he continues, thumb stroking across my knuckles. “They love Evie. And they already love us together. We’re just giving them the truth they’ve been waiting to hear.”
Before I can reply, a knock rattles the door, and I swear every nerve in my spine sits up straight.
Game night has officially begun.
Kinsey bursts through first like chaos in leggings, holding a two-liter of Dr Pepper over her head as if it’s the Stanley Cup. Levi trails behind her with his seven-layer dip.
“Okay, where’s the race car?” Kinsey demands, already toeing off her shoes and rifling through the game pieces. “I want to exploit capitalism in style.”
“Hi, Kinsey,” I say dryly.
She kisses my cheek, steals an M&M on her way past, and drops cross-legged to the floor. “Love you, bestie. Give me the keys to the empire.”
Next through the door are Brynn and Knox—joined like magnets. Brynn holds brownies. Knox holds a grocery bag with paper plates and plastic forks.
Within minutes, the room fills with familiar noise—pieces clinking, dice hitting the board, Kinsey narrating strategies nobody asked for. Levi insists on counting his money twice before the game begins. Brynn complains that she should get Boardwalk as a wedding present. Knox casually buys two railroads before anyone blinks.
We fall into an easy rhythm filled with laughter, bargains, and affectionate trash-talk. Brynn and Kinsey argue over Community Chest. Levi micromanages bank loans. Knox pretends he’s above the chaos until he charges us all railroad rent. For a few minutes, I let myself soak in this chosen family, this ridiculous game, this man sitting close enough for his knee to press warm against mine.
Then the moment shifts. When it’s my turn, I set my dice down. My fingers tremble once, barely noticeable, unless you’re looking.
Cam sees it though and places a hand on my back.
“We have something to tell you,” I say, steadying my voice even as my pulse skitters wildly beneath it.
Four heads lift.
