“Heads,” I said quickly, before Gavin could call it.
He flicked the coin, caught it, covered it with his hand, and gave me that chaos-goblin smirk.“Last chance to change your mind.”
“Nope.Heads.”
He lifted his hand.
His defeated sigh told me everything before I even saw the coin.
Robbie’s shoulders shook with soft giggles spilling from his very kissable mouth.
Watching Gavin contort himself into the back seat was...honestly the highlight of my day.He folded in on himself like a human pretzel, knees jammed against the back of the passenger seat, muttering curses under his breath as he wrestled with the seatbelt.
Good thing he managed it, because Robbie didn’t drive like he had Miss Daisy on board.More like he was auditioning for a rally team.
We zipped through streets lined with everything from Victorian terraces to shiny new builds before pulling up outside a mid-century house with oversized windows.
Gavin groaned as he emerged from the car backwards, feet-first onto the pavement like he was being birthed by the Audi.
I turned — and spotted another car parked nearby.A guy leaned against it, matching Robbie’s description of his housemate, Evan.
Looks like dinner was about to get even more interesting.
ROBBIE
Dinner?
Or a chimpanzee tea party — which is what it felt like.
Dave was being a dick.
Interrupting me mid-sentence, changing the subject, sulking whenever he wasn’t the centre of attention.His harpy of a girlfriend had dumped him after finding out I was now in control of Mum’s money.That was after I discovered he’d been using Mum’s bank card to buy Mandy gifts.
Not that Dave or Mum told me.
No — I found out by accident.
I’d been looking for something else when I opened a cupboard and found a stack of unopened bank statements Dave had intercepted.
I wasn’t just mad.
I was livid.
Taking Mum’s card to buy food was one thing.
Using it to buy crap for the harpy was another.
I wasn’t sure what was worse — his lack of remorse, or the way he lied about it.
And through all of it, while I sorted the statements and tried not to scream, Ashton was there.Lending me his strength.Listening while I ranted.Not judging.Just...steady.Present.Mine.
He was there the day I took Mum to the doctor for her assessment.
I’d expected tears — hers, not mine.
I sat there, numb, while the doctor asked her to count backwards from 100, then say the months in reverse.Then he gave her a name and an address to remember.When he asked her to repeat it, she looked confused.She didn’t even recall being asked.
It was me who sat with her during the MRI.
