A muscle jumps in Daltyn’s cheek.
“Answer it.”
“No.”
“Daltyn.”
“No.”
I bite my lip. “You know they’re going to show up if you keep ignoring them, right?”
He freezes.
A second later, someone pounds on the front door hard enough to rattle the cabin walls.
BANG. BANG. BANG.“OPEN UP, LOVER BOY!” Connor’s voice carries through the wood.
Daltyn closes his eyes.
I burst out laughing.
Another voice joins him.
“WE BROUGHT CELEBRATORY DONUTS!” Cole yells.
A pause.
“Okay, regular donuts,” Jake adds. “But we can pretend they’re celebratory!”
Daltyn drops his forehead against the table with a groan.
And despite everything—the media, the fear, the public exposure, the way my life suddenly feels like it’s moving too fast again—I laugh harder.
Because somehow, in the middle of the storm, this ridiculous group of people keeps showing up.
Loud. Chaotic. Uninvited.
Daltyn lifts his head, scowling toward the door. “I’m going to kill them.”
“No, you’re not.”
“I might.”
The pounding starts again.
Then Gram’s voice booms through the door. “OPEN UP BEFORE I CLIMB THROUGH A WINDOW AND BREAK A HIP.”
“Oh my God,” I wheeze.
Daltyn stands slowly, looking like a man walking to his execution.
Before he can move away, I catch his hand. He looks down at me.
For a second, everything quiets again.
“I’m still overwhelmed,” I say softly.
His face tightens.
