Home felt different.
Not because the walls had changed or because the furniture was suddenly more meaningful, but because we were together. We weren’t skirting around each other or our feelings. We now cuddled on the couch with her tucked into my side, like it was where we’d always belonged.
That night, we went to Talon’s place for dinner. He’d texted the group something about “celebratory carbs” and “mandatory attendance,” and neither of us had argued.
The moment we walked in, it was obvious.
Livvi noticed first.
She paused mid-sentence, eyes flicking between theway my hand rested at Roxie’s lower back and the way she leaned into me without thinking.
“Oh,” she said slowly. “Well. This is new.”
Talon blinked. “Why are you standing like that?”
Roxie smiled sweetly. “Like what?”
“Like you’re happy to be standing that close to Ledger.”
Ridge snorted from the couch. “Gross.”
I laughed, dropping onto the armchair and tugging Roxie down with me so she was half sitting in my lap.
Livvi’s mouth fell open. “Oh, my gosh.”
Talon pointed at us. “You two finally stopped lying to everyone?”
“Mostly ourselves,” Roxie said.
I should’ve been more surprised by their lack of shock—or by the way none of them blinked twice before adjusting to the new dynamic. I’d expected teasing or maybe questions, but instead, they treated it like something inevitable.
And then it clicked. I guess we had been dancing around this for years, masking our observations with ribbing and exaggerated eye rolls, pretending it was hate or indifference when, really, we’d always noticed each other because we were drawn to one another, even if neither of us wanted to admit it. That long-running, quiet tension had been obvious to anyone with eyes. And now, it was finally out in the open.
I shook my head slightly, smiling down at Roxie. Not surprised at us. Just relieved to finally stop pretending, like everyone else had been waiting for us to catch up.
Dinner was loud and warm and full of easy teasing. Roxie was the same she’d always been, trading jabs with Ridge and stealing food from my plate like she’d been doing for years. But now I got to sit back and enjoy the fact that Roxie was mine in a way that wasn’t borrowed or temporary or pretending anymore.
We fit here—at this table, in this life—with an ease that made my chest feel loose in a way I wasn’t used to.
This wasn’t borrowed happiness. It wasn’t the kind you hold loosely because you expect it to disappear.
It was the kind that settled in your bones. That made you realize how long you’ve been bracing for something to go wrong and how exhausting that’s been.
The tension I’d been carrying for months loosened its grip, replaced by something quieter and soothing. Contentment. The kind that didn’t need to be loud to be real. For once, I wasn’t counting races or calculating risks or bracing for the drop. I was just here. Present. Happy.
At one point, Talon leaned back and studied us. “Huh.”
Roxie shot him a look. “What doeshuhmean?”
“It means,” Talon said slowly, “this is weird.” He gestured between Roxie and me. “You stole his fries, and he didn’t even pretend to be annoyed,” Talon replied. “In fact, he slid the plate closer to you.”
I opened my mouth to argue, then stopped when I realized he was right. Just because she’d been stealing food from my plates for years didn’t mean I had let her do so easily. There had been threats and hand slapsevery time, to which she’d just given me a cheeky smile while shoving whatever food she’d stolen into her mouth.
All I did in response to his comment was shrug, the conversation moving forward again.
But it wasn’t long until Talon was looking at me again.
“You know,” he said, “this is the first time you’ve looked relaxed in months.”
