Isaac looks in Zane’s direction with a more mischievous look before returning to me. “What was he like?”
The question sounds genuine despite the tease in his voice, and it startles me all over again.
Without meaning to, I look at Zane, only to find his eyes are already on me with that same, steady focus. It seems like he’s waiting for my answer just as much as they are.
I avert my gaze and murmur. “He was different, I guess.”
“That’s not very helpful,” Hunter mutters.
“It’s not wrong.”
“Try again. Give us more than that,” Isaac encourages, pushing but not in an annoying way.
I exhale to myself, taking the time to really consider my words. “He wasn’t as intense as he is now. Not all the time, anyway.”
A few of them glance at him immediately with piqued interest, and I already know this isn’t going to be the end of it despite the new mortification that moves through his features.
Isaac grins, more invested now. “Do tell.”
Zane groans under his breath. “Don’t.”
Choosing to ignore him, even I find it a bit satisfying to know I have this on him. Rarely do I have the upper hand over him, and at least this is mostly harmless.
“He was easier to talk to,” I continue. “And less guarded. He could be pretty soft about some things, too.”
“That’s hard to imagine,” Dominic says, enjoying this just as much.
“Hey,” Zane shoots back with a narrowed, warning gaze. “It shouldn’t be.”
“It is,” Caleb adds. “You’re like a locked vault sometimes.”
Zane huffs to himself with an annoyed expression despite how he tries to hide it. “For good reason, apparently.”
“Whatever helps you sleep at night.”
Something in me wants to smile, but I just manage to hold back. “He used to listen more. He still does, but he pretends he doesn’t care first.”
That earns a few quiet laughs from the others and some agreeing nods.
“I believe that,” Dominic says with a long-suffering sigh as he leans back. “I’ve tried to have many heart-to-hearts with the grump, but he always shuts me down.”
Zane shakes his head. “Alright, that’s enough. Fun’s over.”
“No, no,” Isaac interjects, still grinning. “This is great, keep going.”
“I’m not your entertainment.”
“You absolutely are.”
I huff a quiet breath and shake my head. Something about the way they immediately latch onto it and how they don’t hesitate to poke at him is strange, but in a good way.
They don’t hold back, even with someone like him. Even while trying to deflect, he doesn’t shut them down completely or remind them where they stand. He just takes it and pushes back as if he belongs here. Like this is where he’s supposed to be.
The realization settles in slowly…this isn’t just something he built like Delmont. It’s a community he’s a part of, and not built on fear or a hierarchy. This is real, and they’re letting me sit here.
They’re asking me questions and including me even after everything. Despite knowing exactly who I am, what I’ve done, and what I represent. By all means, they don’t have to, and maybe they shouldn’t, but they are anyway.
Looking down at my hands, my fingers curl slightly as something uncomfortable moves through me. Regret sours on my tongue as I try to come to terms with everything I’ve seen and all the ways they’re actively ruining every preconceived notion I’ve ever had.
