“Yes.”
Just an outlier,somehow that nearly undid her.
“You know you’ve been taking care of me all night,” she said.
“Yes,” Arthur replied.
“You do it like it’s… assumed.
“Someone had to,” he said at last. “You were carrying too many variables.”
She let out a small, shaky laugh. “That’s your way of saying I don’t have to do everything myself, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“And you’re okay with that?” she asked. “With being the one who watches the edges?”
Arthur’s thumb brushed once over her knuckles. “I prefer it,” he said. “Systems function better when someone is accountable for the structure.”
He took her hand then, palm up, steady. Just an anchor, offered without demand. “I don’t need to be first, I just need to be part of your constant.”
She squeezed his hand before she trusted herself with a response.
Arthur shifted, braced his feet wider, and drew her back until she rested flush against his chest, an adjustment made with the same quiet precision he brought to everything.
“Stay,” he rumbled.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
His hand squeezed hers once. “You’re welcome.”
Jiro found April a few minutes later, still sitting in Arthur’s lap, trying to remember how to be a person who could process normal amounts of information.
He slid into the seat beside Arthur, close enough that their shoulders touched.
The club pulsed around them.
He leaned closer. “You okay?”
“I have no idea,” April said.
Jiro’s mouth lifted in a small, easy smile.
Arthur's hand was on her knee, thumb moving in slow circles, each pass edging higher. She was still sitting in his lap, his thigh warm beneath her, but it was getting harder to remember what they’d been talking about.
Mateo leaned in to refill her drink, brushing her shoulder before trailing down her arm as he pulled back. Across the booth, Jax’s eyes tracked her movements, cataloging reactions for later. Liam told a quip that made her laugh. When she turned, Jiro was watching with quiet attention that caught her breath.
Caleb’s grin was knowing. “You doing okay over there?”
April was not doing okay. She was aware of everything: the weight of Arthur beneath her, the brush of Mateo’s fingers, the way Jax watched like he was storing data for later.
Jiro’s hand slid to the nape of her neck, fingers threading through her hair until his thumb found the sensitive skin there. She shivered.
“Cold?” Though the curve of his mouth said he already knew the answer.
“No,” she managed.
He leaned in, closing the space without crowding her, boxing her gently between Arthur’s solid presence and the heat of hisown chest. Just before his mouth found her neck, he paused, eyes meeting hers, and pressed a slow kiss to her temple.
