By the time the mountain house came into view, lit from within and vibrating with music, something in my chest had loosened.
Chaos greeted us. Chase was already halfway through the door before we’d fully parked, shouting something about claiming the best room. Avery darted past him with a triumphant laugh.
Jax carried two cases of something over his shoulder like they weighed nothing.
Theo stood on the deck railing, yelling instructions no one listened to. Music thumped through the open windows. Bright. Loud. Alive.
Luke grabbed my bag without asking and slung it over his shoulder. “Stay close.”
I didn’t argue. Inside, it smelled like pine and detergent and whatever cologne Theo had overused. Avery was already claiming the upstairs corner bedroom, her voice echoing down the hall.
Jax moved through the space with quiet purpose, his and Avery’s bags over his shoulder as he went to join her.
Chase tossed me a beer without ceremony.
“For once, don’t overthink it,” he muttered.
I caught it, cracked it open, and laughed.
For the first time in weeks, I didn’t scan the room for threats. I didn’t measure who was watching Luke. I didn’t brace for Elise’s shadow at the edge of the crowd.
Theo turned the music up too loud. Avery had returned from her and Jax’s room and danced in the middle of the living room. Jax leaned against the counter, eyes tracking her in a way that made something warm curl in my chest.
Luke stayed near me. Not hovering. Just present. And for a few fragile hours, everything was uncomplicated. Carefree.
Later, when the house quieted and the laughter softened into background hum, I slipped out onto the balcony.
The trees stretched endlessly beyond the railing, dark against the deepening sky. No city lights. No ocean. No cliffs.
Just mountains. The air was chilly. Peace eased in slowly. I rested my hands on the railing and let it sink in.
Behind me, the balcony door opened. Luke stepped out. He didn’t speak, just moved to stand beside me, shoulder brushing mine. Solid, warm, and certain.
“You okay?” he asked quietly.
I nodded. For once, it wasn’t a lie.
Luke didn’t look convinced.
He studied my face the way he always did when he thought I might disappear on him, as if memorizing the shape of me would anchor me in place.
“I don’t want this to end,” I admitted quietly.
His shoulder pressed more firmly against mine. “It doesn’t have to. We still have tonight away from everything.”
The wind tugged at my hair, cool against my neck. Below us, laughter drifted faintly through the open windows. The house vibrated with life. Music. Movement. Our friends claiming space that didn’t belong to Blackwood.
For once, we weren’t bracing.
I turned toward him. He didn’t move first. “I’m tired of being careful,” I said.
His jaw tensed slightly. “I know.”
“No,” I corrected softly. “I mean with us.”
Something changed in his eyes. Not hunger. Not impatience. Something steadier.
He stepped closer, close enough that the warmth of him cut through the mountain air. His hand lifted, hovering near my waist like he was waiting for permission.
