Page 77 of What We Don't Say: Part One

He climbs into the nest behind me with more care than I expect from someone his size. The bench isn’t made for three people, but he makes room by drawing me back against his chest and settling one knee along the edge of the blankets. His scent folds around me at once, cold mint and polished leather, Alpha and house and authority, and my body relaxes before my mind decides whether it wants to.

Callie watches the shift. Her mouth softens, and that helps.

Garrett’s arm comes around my middle. He draws me back against his chest without breaking the space between me and Callie, and my body settles before my thoughts know what to do with it. It feels good. That’s the confusing part. It feels good to have him behind me and Callie in front of me, to have her fingers still near my knee and his hand steady over my stomach.

“This is where you disappeared to,” Garrett purrs near my ear.

I look down at Callie’s cardigan under my hand. “Sorry.”

“No.” His hand presses once, warm and firm. “I’m not scolding you.”

Callie shifts, setting the student paper aside. “He was fine.”

“I can see that.” Garrett’s voice stays mild, but Callie’s fingers move over the edge of the paper in a way that makes me look at her more closely. He notices the papers too, then the cream folder tucked beneath them. “Are those Halston materials?”

The nest changes in a way I feel before I understand.

Callie’s hand stills. Her scent tightens at the edge, pear bruising beneath the vanilla tea, and her eyes flick to me before they return to Garrett.

“Some of them,” she says.

Garrett’s thumb moves slowly over my stomach. “Did they give you a deadline?”

Callie sits a little straighter. “Garrett.”

“It’s only a question.” He keeps his voice calm, almost warm. “They’ll want an answer if they’re building the department schedule around the position.”

My fingers curl in the cardigan.

Callie sees it. Her expression shifts at once, away from Garrett and fully to me. “Theo.”

I try to breathe. The air catches on the way in.

“Position?” I ask.

Garrett’s arm remains steady around me. “The offer I mentioned earlier.”

Callie’s eyes come back to his. “You mentioned it?”

“In conversation,” Garrett says. “He asked what you do. I told him you had an offer under consideration.”

“It’s not decided.” Callie’s voice is gentle when she looks at me again, but there’s something under it I don’t understand. It isn’t guilt. It isn’t exactly fear. It’s discomfort, maybe, because thisisn’t where she wanted the conversation to happen. “It’s only an offer.”

Only an offer.

The offer.

Far.

Good for her.

“Halston is far,” I say.

Callie’s mouth parts. She looks at Garrett again, and this time I understand even less.

Garrett doesn’t sound unkind when he answers. “It is. It’s also a good school.”

Callie’s shoulders draw back. “Can we talk about this later?”