The neighborsapparently includes half of Happiness.
“I told them to wait,” Roman says, appearing next to Valen with a beer. “I specifically said wait until Valen gets back before you throw a party on someone else’s lawn.”
“They listen well,” Valen grumbles. “This is such a?—”
“Vivian Harrington thing to do,” Roman says solemnly.
It’s then I remember that the first time I met him and Grant, they told me their mother had recently passed away.
“I think I need a drink,” Valen says under his breath.
I think I need to hide in my house and spy from an upstairs window until all these people leave my property. But Madi appears at my elbow, and I know my dreams of escape are over.
“Eat,” she orders, glaring at the group of men in overpriced button-downs while she shoves a plate of food at me. “Then breathe. Then we’ll talk about how there are suddenly a half-dozen Harrington men with too much money and too many smiles camped out on your lawn.”
Elle joins us a moment later with her daughter Keela on her hip. “This is wild. Chief took over their command center while you were out, and then invited them to stay for dinner, which turned into those brothers snapping their fingers. Before I knew what was happening”—she spreads her arms wide to encompass the entire spectacle—“this all showed up.”
“Chief doesn’t even work for them,” I point out.
“No,” Elle’s grinning. “But he thinks he owns the entire operation.”
We drift to my porch steps and watch the chaos unfold. The Harrington brothers congregate around the grill, arguing about something that involves a lot of hand gestures and what sounds like a debate about proper burger temperature.
But it’s Valen I can’t stop watching. He’swiththem, but not quiteofthem—I recognize that distance. I’ve lived in it for as long as I can remember.
But the distance doesn’t last because his cousins are trying. I see it every time Chase’s smile slips while looking at Valen. Every time Grant asks him a direct question. Every time Roman physically tugs him into their circle or when Sterling gently angles his body toward Valen, silently urging the others to do the same.
They meet him where he is and adapt to bring him into the fold.
It’s what my friends do for me.
“Your guy looks stressed,” Madi observes.
“He’s not my?—”
Madi scoffs. In my face.
“He likes order.”
“And he’s currently living in…this,” Elle says. “Must be killing him.”
Biting my lip, I nod. Valen’s still standing slightly apart from the group—not uncomfortable, but monitoring. Like he’s trying to track seventeen conversations while also eyeing the perimeter.
Then Chase says something that catches him off guard, making him laugh—really laugh, with his head thrown back and a hand on his stomach. It’s the first time I’ve seen him do that. When we were kids, laughter was always muffled, if it happened at all. Silent smiles and shoulder bounces were the extent of our joy so I didn’t get punished.
“He’s different with them,” I say quietly.
“That’s family,” Madi says. “They know how to push his buttons because they were the ones to install them.”
Grant throws an arm around Valen’s shoulders. Roman steals his beer with a ghost of a smirk. Chase says something that makes Valen shove him away like brothers do. All the while, Sterling adjusts his glasses while everyone else waits patiently for him to finish pointing out various aspects of the grill.
He’s still Valen. Still serious and careful and methodically organized. But with them, he’s someone else. Someone lighter.
Someone who’s experienced innocent joy.
“He’s been staying close to you,” Madi says. It’s not a question.
“For protection,” I mumble absently, my focus on the family whose stories used to get me through dark nights.
