She lets out a startled laugh, and it helps the tension rising in my chest.
I drop my hand and try to salvage what’s left of my dignity. “For the record, Sir Sass isn’t exactly the gold standard of roommates. He once woke Orion up by licking his nipple.” I shake my head, remembering the way Orion practically levitatedoff the bed. “He was dead asleep one second, screaming like he’d been electrocuted the next.”
Her laugh gets louder, and I can’t help smiling at the sound of it. I grip the wheel a little tighter, trying to steady myself. I don’t know why I’m this flustered. I don’tgetflustered. Not with people. Not with anyone.
With Celeste sitting next to me with her knees pulled up and her hair falling over her shoulder and that blush still lingering on her cheeks, I feel… unguarded. Like I’ve stepped out of the armor I’ve worn for years without noticing.
Maybe I’ve let her in more than I meant to. More than I’ve let anyone in, even Orion, who’s been by my side through everything.
That might be why my mouth keeps running ahead of my brain, why I’m saying things I’d normally swallow, and the idea of her choosingmyemotional support cat over me makes something stupid and warm flare in my chest.
I glance at her again.
Yeah. That’s probably it.
30
Celeste
By the time we ease into Shadow Grove, the world outside the windshield has gone blurry at the edges. The streetlights look like they’re smudged into gold, and houses are tucked into the dark like they’re settling in for the night. My body feels older than it is, every muscle stiff from the drive and from… everything before it. Fourteen hours in a car doesn’t help when you’re already sore.
Lucian drove fast enough to beat the time on his GPS by a couple of hours, and we got here a little earlier than expected. The intensity of the drive softened as the day stretched on. We talked more than we ever have, and got to know each other beyond the physical relationship we had before.
We stop in front of a pale-blue Craftsman with white trim, its porch light casting a soft rectangle across the walkway. A ceramic frog sits on the steps like a ridiculous sentinel. The SUV idles; the engine ticks as it cools. For a long second, we sit in thedark, the town breathing around us—maple leaves whispering, a dog barking in the distance, a porch light flicking off.
“Here we are,” Lucian says, squeezing my hand once, a small, deliberate pressure that feels like a check in, and I answer with the tiniest return squeeze because words are heavy and the night is too thin for them.
We climb out of his SUV, and the cold air hits me like a reset; I stretch the stiffness out of my shoulders and roll my neck after being folded into a vehicle for too long, and the motion feels almost obscene in its normalcy when everything else in me is frayed.
I haven’t spent enough time at Selene’s house to make the place familiar, so I keep my eyes on the path. When I step on the porch, the absurdity of her ridiculous new doormat that reads DON’T BE WEIRD in huge block letters almost pulls a laugh out of me, which I have to swallow because I am already rehearsing the version of myself I’ll put on when we cross that threshold.
I smooth my hair with one hand as I gather myself, as I put on the slightly vacant smile I use around people who aren’t in the band or in my inner circle, my sister’s boyfriend Theo included. I want to be small and easy and not the person I was ten minutes ago. It’s a performance I’ve learned to put on for strangers so they don’t look too close.
Before I can knock, the door opens.
Selene is there first, filling the frame in a way that makes the porch feel like one of the safest places in the world. She might be compact in her 5-foot frame, but she is made of lithe lines and quick movements. I’ll never forget the moment I heard she punched a serial killer in the face for her boyfriend. Her light hair is piled into a messy bun that somehow reads deliberate rather than careless, and her face is small and angular with high cheekbones and hazel eyes that notice everything. She is themother I never had. When our mother was strung out, she’d be the one to take care of me. Everything about her screamshome.
Behind her, Theo fills the doorway differently. He’s taller with broad shoulders and a physique that speaks to hours spent in the kitchen at his cafe, kneading dough. His dark blond hair is perpetually tousled as if he’s run a hand through it a hundred times today, jaw dusted with stubble that softens the angles of his face. He is the perfect partner for my sister; he holds space for her without her asking. He is a golden retriever in a grown man’s body.
Then I catch a glimpse of Valkyrie, Selene’s failed TSA red Doberman, as she launches herself at us with the blunt enthusiasm of a creature who has never once doubted that joy is the correct response to everything; her entire body vibrating like a metronome on caffeine. She doesn’t even slow down when she reaches me. If anything, she accelerates—overshooting just enough to slam into Lucian’s side hard enough that he has to plant his feet and catch himself before she sends him straight off the porch. His hand flashes out on instinct, steadying himself on the railing, while she rebounds like a rubber ball with zero remorse.
“Val—!” Selene calls, too late, as her dog nearly takes me down, too, which is ridiculous and perfect and exactly what I need in this moment.
And then she’s everywhere.
She orbits me in frantic, skidding circles as her paws thud against the boards, nails scrabbling for traction as she careens past my knees. She bounces up before dropping low, and snaps into the most exaggerated play bow I’ve ever seen, with her front legs stretched long, chest nearly flat to the wood, hind end high, and her butt whipping back and forth hard enough to create its own microclimate.
A breathless whine slips from her, high and wiggly and dramatic—somewhere between delighted accusation andwhere have you been, you absolute menace?
I stagger, laugh breaking out of me, and Lucian mutters, “Jesus, Valkyrie,” as he tries to peel the dog off my legs.
Theo steps in to help, hands already on Valkyrie’s flank, and says, “She missed you. We all did.”
Selene opens her arms, and even though I’m taller than she is by almost half a foot, the hug she gives is fierce, the kind that says I’ve been waiting, and I will not let you fall. This is exactly what I needed. I don’t cry, but the tension I’ve been holding onto since the moment that man grabbed me releases when her arms wrap around me.
“Let’s get the two of you inside.” Selene grabs my hand and doesn’t let go.
Lucian follows close behind with Valkyrie trotting at his heels likesheowns the place and wants to make sure the welcome is properly enforced. The house smells like warm wood and something sweet in the oven. I smile as I notice the lighting is soft throughout the house. I can’t help but smile at how much Selene hates the ‘big light’ as she calls it, and opts for lamps and other types of diffused lights, and I, on the other hand, thrive under the bright lights. We follow Selene through the living room and into the kitchen, where Theo starts pulling on oven mitts with the theatrical flourish of someone who thinks he’s about to perform a small miracle.
