Page 82 of Scout

“I’d read it,” I say. “Even if it made me look like an idiot.”

“Youarean idiot,” Scout mutters.

But the edge is gone. There’s teasing in it.

Our food arrives and Juniper returns, and the conversation shifts back to light topics—movies and homework and the absurdity of algebra. But there’s something else sitting beneath it all now. Not forgiveness, not yet. But maybe a path toward it.

When we’re almost done, he leans back and crosses his arms.

“I don’t know what this is.”

I nod, bracing myself.

“I just…” he swallows. “I don’t want to feel like a third wheel. Some fun experiment to spice up your relationship.”

His eyes flick to mine. Serious. Soft.

“That makes sense,” I tell him. “I wouldn’t want that either.”

“But I want something,” he admits. “Not a promise. Just… a maybe.”

My chest tightens.

“I can do maybe,” I say.

I want to say more. God, I do. That he cracked me open without even trying. That I see the bruises under his armor and still want more. But I keep it simple. Maybe is enough. Maybe is safe.

“Same,” Xavier adds, quiet and sincere.

There’s a moment—just a flicker—where Scout looks at both of us like he’s trying to memorize our faces. Then he nods. Small. Secret.

“In a diner, with your baby sister present, probably isn’t the place to get into all of it,” I say, careful not to crowd him. “Would it be okay if we text or call you later?”

He nods. “Yeah. That’s fine.”

Juniper grins, clearly waiting for her moment. “He’d like to go on a date. Make it fancy. He’s a prize and deserves to be earned.”

Scout groans and shushes her, cheeks turning a deep shade of red.

I can’t help the smile tugging at my mouth. “We’ll talk later.” Then, to Juniper, “Juniper… as always, you’re a trip.”

She beams. “Thank you.”

Xavier leans in slightly, amused. “You’ve got your hands full, Scout.”

Scout glances at her, then back at us. “I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

We head out a few seconds later, the bell above the door chiming behind us.

As we leave, Scout hesitates outside the door. Then he steps close and hugs me. Quick. Tight. Real.

“I don’t know what this is,” he says into my shoulder.

“Whatever you need it to be,” I whisper back.

Then he hugs Xavier too, and my throat burns watching them.

We walk to our car in silence. But when I glance back, Scout’s still standing there. Watching us.