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“Yeah. You’ve never been to one. And you’re as good as family.”

Her face went still for the smallest moment. Then she smiled. “I’d like that.”

“Grandma Ruth will be happy.” I paused for a second as we shifted over for a runner coming in the opposite direction. “Caldwell too. He asked about you earlier this week.”

She looked over quickly. “He did?”

“In his own way.”

“What did he do?”

“He drew a picture of you beside the string lights from the reunion holding a cupcake. He asked when you were coming back.”

Emotion moved across her face before she looked toward the river. “What did you tell him?”

“That you’d be back soon.”

She squeezed my hand. “Then I guess I definitely have to come tomorrow.”

The words pleased me more than they should have.

We reached a bench facing the water and sat. The remaining sunlight stretched across the river in broken pieces. Sloane leaned back and released a long breath. “I may never eat again.”

“You’ll be hungry tomorrow.”

She nudged her shoulder against mine. For several minutes, we watched the sun disappear, and the question I had been trying not to ask all evening rose to the forefront of my mind again.

At the reunion, Sloane had described herself as traveling through the area. Everyone believed she had spent years moving from place to place, appearing briefly before leaving again. Nobody knew where she intended to go next.

I had accepted that history before meeting her. Now, the uncertainty had become harder to ignore. “When are you planning to roll out again?”

Sloane turned her head. “Roll out?”

“Leave town. Move on. Travel.”

“Oh.”

I immediately regretted the way I’d phrased that. “I’m not asking because anyone wants you gone. It’s the opposite. Everyone understands you’re nomadic, though. That seems to be part of who you are.”

She looked down at our joined hands.

“We’ll miss you more now,” I continued. “But nobody expects you to stay because of us.”

Her fingers loosened slightly. I couldn’t tell if I’d upset her or not.

“I’ve been thinking about sticking around, actually,” she said.

My pulse picked up. “For how long?”

She hesitated. “I don’t know. A while.”

The answer should’ve made me happy. It did, but uncertainty moved alongside it. Was she sincere? Or had the birthday invitation and Caldwell’s drawing made her feel obligated to reassure me?

I didn’t want my interest in her, my future position, or the pack’s affection to turn staying into another responsibility for her.

“You don’t have to decide because of anyone else,” I said.

“I know.”