The baby.
Gideon.
Her family.
Niko.
Every moving piece snapping into place whether I want it to or not.
“Okay,” I say.
“Okay?” Chace asks.
“Chace, you’re way too fucking intelligent to just be out of ideas. So, what’s Plan B?”
“Too late for that…”
“What do you mean…oh—because she’s pregnant. Ha-ha. Very funny.” He’s laughing at his own joke. “Seriously though, what do you have in mind?”
“I’ve got a few,” Chace says, his tone flattening, “and you’re not going to like any of them. But if you want to see the other side of this—you, Sera, or the baby—congrats, by the way—then you’re going to shut the fuck up, lose the squirrel energy, and listen.”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Seraphina
Starlight – Muse
Trey walks back toward me from where he and Chace had stepped aside, his expression composed in that careful, controlled way I’ve come to recognize, as though everything volatile has already been locked down behind something colder and far more deliberate. The sunlight catches along the sharp line of his jaw, but it does nothing to soften what I see there, and I feel it immediately, a shift in the air that settles low in my chest before a single word is spoken.
He is angry…it makes my hands fidget, my fingers worrying at myself.
Logan is still talking beside me, while Mac leans back in her chair with that easy warmth that always steadies the space around her, and Sam watches everything in quiet, grounded silence, his attention sharper than the rest. None of them miss the change in Trey.
Whenever Trey is quiet, it spells problems.
Trey’s gaze finds mine instantly, and everything else fades behind it.
My fingers tighten unconsciously around the ultrasound photos still in my hand as he closes the distance between us, and the warmth that had settled around me only moments ago begins to fracture at the edges.
He doesn’t speak to the others.
He simply reaches for me.
His hand slides into mine, firm and strong, his thumb pressing lightly against my knuckles as though he’s anchoring me before I even realize I’m drifting, and the contact sends a quiet, steady pulse through my system that almost disguises the tension building beneath it.
“I need to speak with you,” he says quietly, his voice low enough that it belongs only to me.
Sam shifts slightly in his seat, his gaze flicking between us, understanding passing through his expression without question, while Logan’s mouth opens like he’s about to say something before he seems to think better of it, and Mac exhales slowly, something heavier settling into her posture.
No one stops us.
They are too in tune.
Trey doesn’t give me time to ask anything.
He just leads me away.
Past the pool.
