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She looked so small sitting there, her feet barely touching the ground as she pushed herself gently back and forth. She looked so sad and alone. I’d wanted to walk over, introduce myself, maybe ask if she wanted to play kickball with me, Matt, and the guys. But every time I took a step in her direction, my stomach tied itself in knots and my palms got sweaty.

So I simply watched her, memorizing the way the sun caught the copper highlights in her hair, the way she hummed softly to herself while she swung. Even at eight, I knew she was special. Different from the other girls who giggled too loud and pulled on our sleeves for attention. But fear held me back then and has up until now.

“Earth to Hudson.” Cole snaps his fingers in front of my face. “Where’d you go?”

I shake off the memory, setting the ground beef on the counter. “Just thinking.”

“About?”

Shrugging, I tell them the truth. “When I was too chickenshit to talk to her when we were kids. I’m not making that mistake again.”

Gage raises his bottle. “To not being chickenshits.”

“To Lily,” Cole adds, clinking his bottle against ours.

“To not letting her go,” I finish, the words a promise I’m making to myself as much as to them.

We drink, and for the first time in longer than I can remember, everything feels like it’s exactly where it should be. Upstairs, Lily is unpacking her things, staying in our house, in our lives. And downstairs, the three of us are finally admitting what we’ve known all along.

This is our chance. Our shot at something real.

And I’ll be damned if I’m going to waste it.

Late that night, sleep eludes me. Every time I close my eyes, I see Matt’s face twisted with hate and hear his voice calling Lily worthless. My father raised me to respect women. To never call them names even if I was mad, and he had every reason to be pissed after the divorce. Mom didn’t wait long before she started dating Michelle, and even when she brought her around, Dad was cordial.

That’s why I hate knowing that Lily’s been treated like shit. A real man can have a world of problems dumped on him and still take the high road.

With a heavy sigh, I get out of bed and tug on a t-shirt, making my way downstairs. Whenever I can’t sleep, the only thing that clears my head is fresh air. I round the bottom of the stairs, heading to the deck. I pause when I spot Lily sitting cross-legged on the planks.

The soft glow of the lights and the moon surround her like a halo. She’s staring up at the star-scattered sky, lost in her own thoughts. My chest tightens, wondering if she’s thinking about all the ugly things Matt said to her. He never deserved a woman like her. I grab the throw blanket from the couch and ease the door open. She doesn’t react, doesn’t even flinch when my footsteps creak across the deck.

Without a word, I drape the blanket around her shoulders. She startles slightly at the contact, ripping her earbuds out, but settles when she realizes it’s me. “You scared me.”

“Sorry.” I lower myself beside her, close enough to feel her warmth but not quite touching. The night air carries the scent of her floral shampoo, and I breathe her in. I thought it might take some getting used to having a woman in our space, but with Lily it’s like it was always meant to be this way.

For a moment, we sit in comfortable silence, both of us looking up at the vast canvas above us. The stars are brighter out here, away from the city lights, like scattered diamonds against black velvet. I let my gaze drift sideways, studying her profile in the moonlight. The soft curve of her cheek, the way her lashes cast shadows beneath her eyes.

She turns and catches me staring. I lift an eyebrow. Color blooms across her cheeks as she ducks her head, hiding that adorable blush. I smirk to myself. She’s so damn cute when she gets flustered. Before I can tease her about it though, she looks up again, her expression thoughtful.

“If you could have any job in the world, what would you do?”

“That’s easy. Construction.” The answer rolls off my tongue without hesitation.

She tilts her head, studying me. “Really?”

I shrug, picking at a loose thread on my jeans. “I’ve always wanted to build, ever since I was little, and it’s really the only thing I’m good at. Plus, I like making something out of nothing.”

“That’s not the only thing you’re good at.” Her voice carries absolute conviction.

My eyebrows inch toward my hairline. “Oh?”

She nods, her expression deadly serious. “You’re great at being annoying.”

I blink, shocked speechless for a heartbeat then burst into laughter that echoes across the yard. “Okay, you little shit.”

She bites her lip, fighting to hide her smile, and looks back up at the stars. The playful moment settles comfortably between us, like this is how we were always meant to be.

“I mean it though. You were always good at drawing in high school.” The sincerity in her voice makes my laughter fade.