Page 18

An uncomfortable silence falls over the table. I stare at my half-eaten lasagna, wishing I could disappear. This isn't what I signed up for. We never agreed to tell his family we were having a "fling." We never agreed to any of this.

"Well," Juniper says brightly, "who's ready for dessert?"

As the conversation reluctantly shifts to safer topics, I excuse myself to use the restroom. Instead, I find myself wandering onto the back porch, in need of air and distance. The sun is setting over the treetops, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink.

I consider calling a ride, just leaving without a word. But that would only add to the spectacle. Despite my anger and embarrassment, I can't quite bring myself to abandon Alder.

The door opens behind me, and I brace myself for an awkward conversation with my housemate. However, it's his mom who joins me, two glasses of wine in hand.

"Thought you might need this," she says, offering me one.

I blink in surprise and then accept the glass gratefully. “Thank you.” I take a long sip, letting the cool wine soothe my frayed nerves.

Juniper stands beside me at the railing, looking out into the backyard, which is sliced in two by a metal ramp.

Juniper notices me pondering it and says, “We installed that last year when Odin was badly injured and using a scooter.” She smiles.

“We always want it to be easy for our kids to come to us.”

The sentiment triggers a wave of emotion that shimmers up my spine. “That’s … really lovely.”

“Thank you,” she says, taking her glug of wine. “It doesn’t always translate to the boys actually bringing us their problems…” She makes a face that implies we are changing the subject to Alder. “I think you know that my son doesn’t always think before he speaks.”

I cough out a laugh. “I’m learning that.”

Juniper takes our glasses and sets them on a table on the deck. Then, she takes my hand in hers. “Did you know I was the Fury’s legal counsel when I first met Alder’s dad?”

I shake my head. “You were?”

She tips her head. “We were having a bit of a summer fling…and I suffered quietly in fear that I’d get disbarred when people found out I was dating a player.

” Juniper releases my hand and twists her wedding band, contemplating.

"I wrestled with it for months. Put my career first, tried to ignore how I felt.

" Her gaze is distant, remembering. "And I was utterly miserable. "

My throat tightens. "But you obviously figured it out."

"I did." She turns to me, her expression serious. “There was a little more flexibility…I worked for Tim’s firm, and it was easy enough to reassign me. So, it’s not quite the same thing.”

We’re both quiet for a moment as I struggle to form a response to what she’s confided in me. Eventually, she squeezes my arm. “Whatever is happening with you and my son, you always have a place at our table. You can always come to me.”

With that, she leaves me alone on the porch, her words echoing in my mind. The simple assertion of acceptance touches something profound within me, a longing I hadn't fully acknowledged, even to myself. The door opens again; this time, it is Alder, looking uncertain and slightly lost.

"There you are," he says. "I was wondering where you'd disappeared to."

“Just talking to your mom,” I reply.

He looks surprised. “My mom?” His expression turns wary. “What did she say?”

I sigh, not ready to share before I’ve fully processed Juniper’s words. “She told me you don’t always think before you speak.”

He winces and scratches at the back of his neck. "I'm sorry," Alder says. "I shouldn't have said that. About the fling."

"No," I agree. "You shouldn't have."

"Uncle Tim was pushing, and I panicked." He runs a hand through his hair. "He's always been like a second father to me, and he's also my lawyer, so he's hyperaware of things that could affect my career."

"So, you told him we're having a casual summer hookup? Is that what you want?”

"No! I mean, I don't know what this is." Alder gestures helplessly between us. "We never really defined it."

"Because we've been avoiding talking about the kiss," I say, finally addressing the elephant in the room.

He visibly flinches. "Yeah."

"Look, Alder." I grip the porch railing. "I appreciate you letting me stay with you. I even appreciate the idea of making our exes jealous. But if we're going to do this—whatever 'this' is—we need to be on the same page."

"You're right." He steps closer. "I'm sorry. I should have talked to you before saying anything."

"Yes, you should have." I cross my arms. "So, what are we doing here, exactly? Are we roommates? Friends? A summer fling? What's the story we're telling people?"

He hesitates. "What do you want it to be? "

It's a frustrating response—answering a question with a question. Yet, as I look at him, standing in the fading light, I realize I'm not entirely sure what I want anymore. The lines have blurred somewhere between the revenge plot and the real connection.

"I want honesty," I say finally. "With each other, at least, even if we're not completely honest with the world."

Alder nods, relief evident in his expression. "I can do that."

"And I want boundaries," I continue. "Clear ones that we both agree on."

"Absolutely."

"And I don't want to be blindsided again." I fix him with a firm look, surprising myself by how easily I’m expressing a need to this man. "No more improvising major relationship declarations without consulting me first. And no telling your family we’re sleeping together when I’m not prepared to respond to that.”

"Deal." He extends his hand, a small smile playing on his lips. "Partners?"

I eye his hand, remembering the last time we made an agreement. How quickly things changed. How complicated they became.

But I take it anyway, feeling the now-familiar warmth of his palm against mine. "Partners.”

His expression shifts, and he leans closer. “And just so you know, I’m fine with people thinking we’re fucking.”

The door opens again before I can process this revelation, and Tucker pokes his head out. "Dessert's almost gone, you two. And bro, Uncle Tim wants to talk to you about something."

Alder groans. "We'll be right there."

As his twin disappears back inside, Alder looks at me uncertainly.

His hand finds the small of my back again as we step into the kitchen, a gesture that's becoming familiar—comforting, even.

I should probably establish that as one of our boundaries—what kinds of touches are acceptable in our "arrangement. "

But not tonight. Tonight, I'll allow myself to enjoy the warmth of his hand through my shirt, the solidarity of facing his family together, the strange new feeling of belonging that has nothing to do with revenge, and everything to do with the man beside me.

It’s certainly a dangerous feeling. However, as we rejoin the chaos of the Stag family, I find that I can't quite summon the desire to care.