He rounds the corner, stops short when he sees me—and his whole face lights up. “Sawyer!”
“Hey,” I say, still smoothing down my hair, feeling disheveled and busted. Busted bad. “Surprise.”
His eyes rock between his mother and me. “What are you doing here?”
“I brought you something.” I nod toward the hoodies folded on the chair, grateful I have an excuse because other words would fail me right now. I catch Juliette’s gaze and we share a moment between us, the kind of knowing that can happen only after that kind of kiss, before turning our attention back to her main man.
His eyes go straight to them. “For me? You brought me two hoodies?”
“First things first,” Juliette says, hands on her hips. “Why are you home? You’re supposed to be at a sleepover.”
“Mitch got sick,” Theo says. “Ate too many slices of pizza, then he had half the tub of ice cream. So I came home.”
I shudder. “Is Mitch on a mission?”
Theo considers my words. “I think he’s only allowed sugar when friends come over.”
“You came home alone?” Juliette continues, in Mom mode. While I’m still stuck on the fact that Mitch is only allowed sugar when friends are over.
“Well, Mitch’s mom walked me across the street and up to the building.”
Juliette throws her arms in the air. “Oh. Well. That’s totally fine, then.” She looks at me. “Next time, could you tell me when you’re coming home? Anything could happen between the door and upstairs.”
Theo rolls his eyes. “Mom, it’s literally twenty steps.”
I shrug. “He’s a boy.”
She groans. “You are not helping.”
Theo is already back on the important part. “You brought me hoodies.”
“Two of them,” I say. “One is signed by the whole team. Don’t wear that one. Ever.”
“Ever?” He gasps.
“Ever,” I confirm. “That one’s for keeping. Or selling one day if it’s worth anything.”
“And this one?” He lifts the other.
“That one’s for wearing.”
He beams. “This is the best. Thank you!”
Juliette watches him, trying not to smile—and failing. And somehow, standing in her living room with her kid clutching my gifts like they’re treasure, everything feels exactly where it’s supposed to be.
“Oh, man,” Theo says, clutching the signed hoodie like it’s a priceless artifact. He grabs my hand. “Come on. You have to see my room.”
I look at Juliette, silently asking permission.
“Honey,” she says. “Sawyer might have to go.”
“I can stay a few more minutes,” I say quickly.
Her arms cross. Slowly. Dangerously. “But you told me you stopped here because you werepassing by.”
I feel heat rushing to my cheeks. “Yes?”
“So that implies you were on your way somewhere.”
