It’s not detachment. It’s control. He’s not staying back because he doesn’t care. He’s staying back because he does. Because if he steps in, he takes over. And he doesn’t want to disrupt this. Me being here. With them. That changes something. Not everything. But enough.
Kya bumps my shoulder lightly when I miss something she says. “Still with me?” she asks, amused.
“Yeah,” I say, smiling. “Sorry. I’m still… adjusting.”
She snorts. “That’s a polite way of putting it.”
“Give her a break,” Mac calls from the other side of the room. “You threw her into the deep end.”
“I didn’t throw her,” Kya shoots back. “She walked in.”
“That’s worse,” Mac says.
I laugh softly, and it comes easier this time. Less forced. More real.
Dom drops into the empty space beside me like it’s nothing. No hesitation. No hesitation from me either. That’s deliberate.
I let him.
He leans his elbows on his knees, glancing at the phone in my hand. “Should be good to go,” he says.
I blink at him. “Already?”
He grins, quick and easy. “You’d be surprised what I can do in five minutes.”
“Terrifying,” I mutter.
“Efficient,” he corrects.
I tilt the phone slightly, scrolling. It’s set up. Completely. Apps. Contacts. Everything. My throat tightens slightly. “You didn’t have to—”
“Yeah, I did,” he cuts in lightly. “Cobra would’ve ripped my head off if I didn’t.”
That lands.
I glance up before I can stop myself.
Cobra hasn’t moved. But something shifts. Small. Sharp. Like a reaction he didn’t mean to show. I file that away. Then I look back at the phone. My contacts are already loaded And one name stands out.
Cobra.
I stare at it for a second. Then, before I can overthink it, I tap it.
Message opens. My fingers hover.
What do you even say to someone like him?
Thank you feels too small. Anything more feels like too much.
I type anyway.
Thank you for the phone.
I stare at it. Delete it. Rewrite.
You didn’t have to do that. But I’m glad you did.
I hesitate.
