Page 26

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Braden

The plane lands with a sudden jolt, shaking me awake from a restless half-sleep. My neck aches from being twisted in an awkward angle for too long.

The engine's dull roar gradually fades, replaced by the sound of seatbelts clicking open and passengers stretching their stiff limbs.

I push the discomfort aside.

I yank my earbuds out and stuff them into my pocket, barely registering the flight attendant’s upbeat announcements about safely deplaning.

Standing, I reach for my bag in the overhead compartment, its weight feeling like a leaden burden despite my light packing for this short trip.

As soon as I step into the bustling terminal, the icy Minneapolis air greets me like a rejuvenating breath, instantly dispelling the stuffy warmth of the plane.

I waste no time; with my phone in hand, I stride toward the rideshare pickup zone, scrolling swiftly to Kenzie’s contact.

I press call.

The phone rings once, then twice, and a third time.

Voicemail.

Damn.

My jaw clenches as I impatiently open the Uber app and type in her address. Surely, she must be back from Ohio by now, I reason, trying to reassure myself.

A sleek black sedan pulls up to the curb, and I toss my bag into the trunk before sliding into the back seat. "This address," I instruct the driver, my voice terse.

I let out a sharp breath, resting my forehead against the cool glass of the window as the cityscape blurs by. It's time to figure out what I'm going to say to her when I finally see her.

The Uber driver keeps glancing at me in the rearview mirror, his eyes flicking between the road and the restless movement of my foot tapping incessantly against the floorboard.

The cityscape blurs past, a chaotic dance of headlights and shadows as we weave through the snarled traffic.

My mind is a jumble of urgency and regret.

I need to see her, to talk to her.

Fumbling for my phone, my fingers tremble slightly as I dial her number once more.

Straight to voicemail again.

I mutter a curse under my breath, frustration bubbling up as I rake a hand through my hair, the strands slipping through my fingers. This whole situation is a tangled web of mistakes and misunderstandings.

But it’s my mess.

And I’m the one who has to unravel it.

I lean my head back against the seat, eyes fixed on the streaks of streetlights that paint the night sky, my thoughts racing alongside them.

Why isn’t she answering? Where could she be?

"Change of plans," I say, my voice steady despite the storm inside. "Head to this address instead." I quickly type her apartment complex into the app.

The tires rumble against the pavement as we take the exit, and I mentally rehearse my approach. The words I need to say tumble over each other in my mind, a jumbled script that I hope will make sense when the time comes.

She won’t be expecting me. She might even slam the door in my face.

But that’s a risk I have to take.

Before I reach Kenzie's place, I pull out my phone from my jacket pocket and dial Reggie. He picks up almost immediately.

“Braden?” he mumbles, his voice thick with surprise. “Where the hell are ye, mate?”

“Back in Minneapolis,” I reply, adjusting my position in the back seat of the Uber as the city lights blur past the window. “I just landed. Heading to Kenzie's now.”

There's a moment of silence before I catch Ambrose's voice coming through the receiver, more alert now.

“Wait, you’re back?” Ambrose asks, his tone shifting from confusion to awareness. “She just texted us, man. Told us to meet her at her place.”

I blink, processing his words.

“What?”

“Yeah, like, ten minutes ago,” Reggie confirms, his voice clearer now. “We were just about to leave.”

My stomach twists with unease.

Kenzie reaching out first? That’s unexpected.

“You think she’s okay?” I ask, the concern in my voice betraying my attempt to stay calm.

Ambrose lets out a long breath. “No clue. She hasn’t talked to us much since...well, everything happened.”

I run a hand through my hair, feeling the tension knotting in my chest.

“All right,” I say, trying to sound more confident than I feel. “I’ll see you guys there.”

Hanging up, I lean back against the seat. My mind races with questions. Kenzie had spent weeks pushing us away, guarding her secrets, and keeping her distance.

And now, out of nowhere, she’s summoning us all to her place?

What changed?

I don’t know.

My fingers drum a nervous rhythm against my thigh as the car slows to a stop outside her apartment complex.

The street is quiet, with only a few porch lights casting a warm, golden glow onto the cracked sidewalks, creating long shadows that stretch across the pavement.

The place feels almost deserted, as if the world is holding its breath.

I step out of the car, and my breath forms small clouds in the chilly night air, dissipating quickly into the dark. Standing in front of the old brick building, I hesitate for a moment, feeling the weight of the darkness pressing down on me.

I need to make her understand.

I need her to know that she belongs with us and that we miss her.

That I miss her.

She’s spent so much time running, convincing herself that this isn’t real.

That what we have is too complicated, too messy. But life is messy. Love is messy.

I don’t care about logistics or labels or what anyone else thinks. What I care about is the way her laughter fills the room, a sound so full of joy it seems to come from somewhere deep within her.

I care about how she challenges me, pushing me to be better in a way no one else does.

I care about the warmth of her presence, how she feels like home when I touch her.

We need her.

And if I have to break down every wall she’s built, brick by stubborn brick, to make her see that, then so be it.

I draw in a deep breath, letting the cold air fill my lungs, steeling myself as I climb the worn steps to her door.

As I step onto Kenzie's porch, her front door swings open before I can even knock.

There she is, glowing with warmth, her presence soft yet unmistakably real. Without giving me a chance to say a word, she launches herself into my arms, her embrace tight around my neck, her body melding seamlessly with mine.

Instinctively, I lift her off her feet, feeling her lips meet mine, not a simple peck or a casual hello, but a kiss that runs deep, igniting a comforting warmth that spreads through my chest.

The moment is infused with her scent: warm, floral, and spicy, a fragrant tether drawing me into a sense of belonging. As she pulls back, her dark eyes shimmer with emotion.

"I missed you," she whispers, her voice quivering, and I feel a lump forming in my throat.

"Missed you too, sweetheart," I respond softly, my fingers tracing the gentle curve of her jawline. She steps aside, motioning for me to enter the house.

Inside, Reggie and Ambrose are sprawled on the couch, their faces inscrutable as they watch our reunion. Kenzie, without missing a beat, scoops up a stack of printed papers from the cluttered coffee table and distributes one to each of us.

I look down at the pages in my hand, a script?

"What the hell is this?" Ambrose grumbles, riffling through the pages with a frown.

Kenzie clears her throat, standing before us with the air of a nervous actress about to take center stage. "This," she announces, "is a slightly modified scene from one of my books."

I blink in surprise, processing her words. She squares her shoulders, draws a deep breath, and begins to read aloud with a determined, steady voice.

“’We’re so happy you’re pregnant,’ Lyle said, taking her into his arms. ‘Yes, we truly are,’ Samuel agreed, his lips caressing the side of her neck. Lifting her up between the two of them, Jarrod took her ass from behind while Samuel entered from the front. Together, they both enjoyed her, the sensation of the two of them together sending waves of pleasure throughout Josie’s body.’”

“You want to try both of us at the same time?” I ask, a daring smile across my lips.

“Yes, I do,” she says.