“Yeah.”
A beat passes.
“Alright,” he says slowly. “You just sound… different.”
My fingers tighten around the phone.
He hears it. Even through a screen, he always does.
“I’m tired.”
“That’s not it.”
Of course it isn’t.
“You’re overthinking it,” I say lightly.
“I don’t think enough to overthink,” he shoots back.
A small laugh slips out of me. God, he’s impossible. “And yet here we are.”
He studies me for a second longer, like he’s deciding how far to push.
Then, quieter, “You safe?”
My eyes flick toward the living room.
Toward Dex.
“Yeah,” I say.
And that part… that part settles somewhere deeper. Steadier.
“Good,” Mason says. “Because if you’re not, I’m getting in my truck and coming to get you.”
“You wouldn’t make it ten miles.”
“Still trying.”
“Idiot.”
“It’s Groot to you!”
Something warm spreads through my chest, familiar and grounding.
“I’ll call you later, Groot.”
“You better,” he replies. “And Rocket?”
“Yeah?”
“Are you hiding things from me?”
My breath catches, sharp enough that I feel it in my throat. “I’m not.”
Another lie.
This one sticks.
