Page 116 of Twins for Three Bad Boys

Evan appears at the top of the stairs a second later, hair sticking up in every direction, cheeks pink from sleep. He rubs his eyes with his fists.

And just like that, my heart steadies.

He smells of clean laundry and sleep.

“Can we get muffins?” he mumbles into my sweater.

I blink.

“Muffins?”

He nods. “The chocolate ones.”

I almost laugh at the timing.

“Yeah,” I say softly. “Yeah, I think we can manage that. The Redwood Run Café makes the best muffins, right? So let’s get ready to go.”

Redwood Run is the kind of town where everyone notices everything.

The thought makes my stomach twist as I buckle Evan into his seat. What if the email spreads? What if Max doesn’t stop? What if people start looking at me the way the school board did… like I’m something to be managed instead of trusted?

What if I really do lose my new start before I’ve really had time to enjoy it?

How the hell am I going to act normal in front of Evan while all of this is going on?

The café door jingles when we walk in, warmth and scents of coffee and sugar wrapping around us. Evan perks up instantly, fully awake now pastries are involved.

Millie looks up from behind the counter.

She clocks my face in half a second and freezes. Then, she smooths it over into something bright and easy.

“Well,” she says, leaning her elbows on the counter, “if it isn’t my favorite bedlam magnet.”

I try to smile.

Evan is already pressed to the display case, fogging up the glass.

“Chocolate,” he announces, a small king issuing a decree.

Millie grins. “One chocolate for His Majesty.”

While she plates it, her eyes flick back to mine.

“What happened?” she asks quietly.

The question almost undoes me.

I hesitate. Because this is Redwood Run. Because small towns don’t just carry coffee, they carry stories. Because once something is said out loud, it belongs to more than you.

But Millie isn’t the town.

She’s just Millie. The closest thing I’ve had to a friend in a very long time, and the only person I truly feel I can speak to about this.

“You ever feel like everyone’s just waiting?” I ask softly.

“For what?” she says.

“For you to mess up.”