Quiet. Movie. Familiar people. Controlled environment.
And Grayson.
The thought sends a flutter straight through my chest, warm and sharp.
“Okay,” I say before I can overthink it. “I’ll come.”
Weston pumps a silent fist like he’s afraid to break the spell. Asher nods once. And just like that, something shifts. Not dramatically. Not loudly. But enough that my walk back to Kai’s apartment feels different.
Like I stepped closer to something without fully understanding what it was.
Staying with Kai the last few days has been the extra layer of comfort I need to get back on track, but the one downside is not being able to hide any of my feelings from him.
A small grin has taken over as I walk into the apartment, and Kai clocks it within seconds.
“You’re smiling,” he says from the kitchen, suspicious.
“I am not.”
“You are,” he insists. “That’s a smile.”
I roll my eyes. “You don’t know my face.”
“I absolutely do,” he says, turning just enough to look at me. “Weston tell you about movie night?”
“Yes,” I say, grabbing a water out of the fridge. “He said the guys are all coming here this time.”
He studies me, weighing something. I can almost see the internal debate—his instinct to control wrestling with his effort to trust.
He pauses, then adds, quieter, “You good with that? I can always see if we can do it at the hockey house. Weston just likes to make the group smaller and crash here from time to time.”
The question catches me off guard.
“Yes,” I say. “I think so.”
Kai nods once, like that settles it—for now.
Movie night is nothing like my brain prepares for.
The lights are dim but not dark. Weston shows up with an aggressive amount of snacks and a blanket he declares“essential.” Asher arrives five minutes later with the energy of someone who has never once been late to anything in his life.
Grayson is sitting on the couch when I walk out of Kai’s room wearing a hoodie and sweats. His hair is slightly damp like he just took a shower, which would make sense since I didn’t really see him this afternoon. Kai said he didn’t expect him to be home much today.
He looks up when he hears the door, and his face changes instantly. A grin takes over his face, causing the slight dimple on his left cheek to pop, pulling a matching grin to my own face.
My stomach does that annoying flip thing again, and I take a seat at the far end of the couch at first, legs tucked beneath me, fingers worrying the edge of my sleeve.
Weston drops between us like a human barricade, while Asher claims the armchair. Kai hovers in the kitchen, pretending he’s not monitoring the entire room.
The debate over what to watch lasts longer than the actual selection. Weston calls everything “mid,” Asher tells him he’s insufferable, and finally Grayson throws out an option in a quiet voice, which ends up being the one we pick.
The movie starts, and I try to focus on the screen.
I really do.
But I’m hyperaware of everything else—the weight of the cushions, the way Grayson’s presence feels like a low note vibrating through my chest, and the fact that it’s getting harder and harder to pretend I’m not stealing glances his way repeatedly.
Halfway through, Weston knocks the popcorn bowl onto the floor and acts like a complete baby blaming Asher, who is still sitting across the room.
