Page 73
“Morning, kiddo.”
She looks up from her phone, eyebrows knitting together. “I wondered where you were.”
Shit. Right. This must look weird, us walking in together.
Stay calm, Fletcher.
“Yeah. I, uh—” I gesture vaguely. “Vince and I needed to talk. About stuff. You know, grown-up things.”
She looks between us, slowly, blue eyes narrowing behind her glasses. Then mouths,ooookay, before going back to her phone.
Vince rolls his eyes at me, biting back a laugh. My ears burn. Sometimes, I lie worse than a teenager.
After starting the coffee, I scramble some eggs while Vince butters some toast. We move effortlessly together, predicting each other’s movements.
Partway through the meal, my phone rings. Sarah’s name lights up the screen.
“Hey,” I say, answering.
“Oh, good. I caught you. I just have a question.”
“Shoot.”
“Ryan and I are figuring out the Christmas Eve menu for this weekend, and it made me wonder… are you bringing Vince?”
The question knocks the breath out of me, and I nearly drop my phone. I haven’t let myself think that far ahead. It felt too dangerous. Too impossible. Painful, even, since I didn’t know if Vince would even be here this long.
But now the image floods in with perfect clarity—Vince seated at Sarah’s crowded dining table, surrounded by people I love. Laughing with Darren. Teasing Ryan’s kids. Belonging—really belonging.
It aches how much I want that.
“I… um. I’ll need to talk to Vince about it,” I manage.
Vince looks up at the sound of his name.
“Of course. He’s invited, though. You know that, right?” Sarah says.
Her warm tone calms me. “Yeah, I know.”
“Okay, good. Tell you what, I’ll just plan on an extra seat, and if he comes, he comes. If not, that’s fine too.”
I let out a breath. “Thanks.”
I disconnect the call and force myself to take another bite. Vince watches me curiously. I shake my head subtly. Not yet. Not in front of Georgie.
The teen looks up then, eyes wide. “Avalon’s parents are inviting me to go to a movie with them. Will says he can pick me up in an hour.”
“Guess you better go shower then.”
She scrambles out of the dining room.
In the silence, I clear my throat and turn to Vince. “So, um. Sarah invited you to Christmas Eve dinner.”
He blinks. “She did?”
I nod, trying not to look too hopeful.
“And what doyouthink?” he asks carefully.
