Chapter 3

In my defense, Ben Montgomery was a total snack . Not that I’d tap that, because I wouldn’t. Family, duh. And I was only here temporarily. I’d be leaving right before Christmas Eve, so there was no reason to shake the foundation that Miles had painstakingly built. But still—I could look at him and think that, couldn’t I? In the privacy of my own head.

It wasn’t illegal to want to climb him like a tree.

Ben glared a lot more now that we were in the car with Trent. Kept glancing at him like he was Satan incarnate and I couldn’t help but find that fucking hilarious. I could see where Trent’s “stick in his butt” comment had come from. But I got the feeling the “softie” descriptor was more accurate.

My amusement, however, was dampened by the fact that Miles wasn’t here.

He hadn’t come to get me.

When his text had said when Trent would be arriving I shouldn’t have assumed they’d be coming together. But I had. And messing with Ben was the only thing that had managed to keep me distracted enough not to negatively react when I realized that Trent was alone.

I mean…sure, I was happy to meet him.

Of course I fucking was.

I’d have to be an asshole not to be.

If there was anyone on God’s green earth who deserved Prince Charming, it was my baby brother. He’d always had a heart two sizes too big for his body. Always been as nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs, despite being tall as a mountain himself.

He carried the weight of the world on his shoulders.

Was sweeter than sweet.

And I was so fucking glad he wasn’t alone anymore that it made me ache. But that also didn’t mean I wasn’t a little, tiny, itty-bitty bit devastated to realize I’d have to wait till we arrived in Belleville to see him. That picking me up hadn’t been a priority. Despite the fact we hadn’t seen each other in almost two years—the longest we’d ever gone without seeing one another.

I’d wanted to come out for his wedding but it’d been in the middle of one of my concerts—and while Miles had offered to reschedule when he found out, I hadn’t wanted to disrupt his big day.

A little part of me hadn’t wanted to go at all, so I’d been grateful for the excuse.

Not for a shitty reason or anything.

But because even though I was Miles’s big brother, that wasn’t what most people saw when they looked at me. I was “Trashmouth”. And I didn’t want to outshine him on the biggest day of his life. Figured he was better off without me, you know?

Wanted to give him his moment, ’cause Lord knew he deserved it.

Which was why this was my first time meeting Trent.

And why I had…naively expected Miles to be here for that.

Because he’d been sending me texts telling me just how much he wanted me to come home—and here I was, “home”—his, not mine—and where the fuck was he?

Maybe it had been all talk?

No, no.

Miles wasn’t like that.

He had to have a damn good reason for not being here.

“Where’s Miles at?” I asked, casually interrupting Trent and Ben’s bantering. They’d been biting each other’s heads off since the second they got in the car. Brotherly shit, you know? Nothing weird. So I’d tuned it out until now.

I had my own brotherly shit to worry about.

“Isn’t that the same outfit you wore when I dropped you off?” Trent laughed. He jabbed at Ben’s chest, and Ben slapped his hand away with an unhappy grunt.

“It’s comfortable ,” Ben sniffed.

“I hope you washed it,” Trent snorted, reaching for the radio, only for Ben to beat him to it. Immediately country music filled the car and Ben groaned, turning it off. Meanwhile, Trent dramatically sniffed the air, and Ben glared bloody murder his way.

“Of course I fucking washed it.”

“You better watch that mouth of yours or Rosie’s gonna empty out your wallet,” Trent hummed gleefully, eyes dancing. Ben didn’t have a reply to that—and I only had a second to wonder who Rosie was before Trent was finally turning his attention to me and answering my question. “Miles is at home waiting for us,” he said, his smile turning tender.

My stomach churned.

So…he hadn’t had a reason for not coming.

What did that mean?

Maybe he was just…tired?

“You look just like Bubba,” Trent said—staring at me in the rearview mirror for a moment before he turned his attention to the road ahead. It was stop-and-go pulling out of the airport, the cars packed like sardines toward the single exit.

My cheeks heated and I grinned, “I know.”

I did know.

It would be hard not to miss it.

“Like his older, evil twin,” Trent added, with a snort.

I cracked a smile but it felt forced.

When I glanced Ben’s way, I saw him watching me. His eyes were the same shade as Trent’s, but there was nothing similar about them aside from that.

His eyes said, you okay?

And I shrugged a shoulder in response.

Of course he’d noticed the stark difference between our play-fighting in the airport and my silence now. Hell, I did too. Wasn’t often I met a person that I got on with like I had with him. He’d seen my chaos as charming. At least…I assumed he had—based on how many smiles he’d flashed my way, and the sudden lack of smiles now.

Like he’d saved that sunshine just for me.

He was different now, just like I was.

His body language was stiffer.

I mean, sure he’d been a bit uncomfortable earlier, so had I. But there was a looseness to him that was missing now. Like he had walls up that hadn’t been there before. Still though, he’d recognized my own discomfort despite that. And that was…fuck, that was pretty fucking sweet, you know?

Made me want to reciprocate.

I’d been surrounded by enough strangers, been in enough unrecognizable places, that I’d grown pretty good at reading people.

Came with the territory.

And Ben Montgomery liked me about as much as I liked him.

Therefore, there was no harm in a little flirting.

Not when it wasn’t going nowhere.

Not when he was a dad—had a whole-ass family—and was Miles’s brother-in-law to boot.

“I dunno about evil ,” I smirked as evilly as I could, then licked my lips as I glanced Ben’s way, before turning my attention back to Trent. “Naughty, maybe.”

“Jesus Christ ,” Ben coughed, and Trent cackled, delighted.

“I see where Miles gets his sass.”

That comment alone made me feel a thousand watts brighter. Because the only two people in my entire fucking life I’d seen Miles sass were me and Gram—and that meant…well?—

That meant that my assumptions had been correct.

And Trent was a good man.

Good enough he’d made Miles drop his guard.

I relaxed, pushing aside my earlier hurt adeptly and instead, putting my new brother-in-law to work. I wanted to flirt with Ben more but wasn’t sure he’d welcome the extra scrutiny from Trent. And besides…I was curious about the guy who had stolen my brother’s heart.

“Miles said you have a dog?”

“We do,” Trent agreed. “Two. Tucker and Barb.”

No fucking way.

Miles hadn’t mentioned the new dog—only the one that Trent had already owned when they got together. “ Two ?” I blinked, surprised. I’d never expected that. I mean…not that Miles wasn’t an animal person—’cause he totally fucking was. But after Margie, our childhood dog had died, he’d sworn to me he’d never willingly go through that again.

I couldn’t help but feel blindsided.

“Fun names,” I said as chipper as I could even though I felt like I was cracking right down the middle.

“Barb’s short for Barbara,” Trent added.

“Obviously,” I nodded seriously. He snorted.

“Tucker’s named Tucker on account of his missing leg. You know. ’Cause it looks like he tucked it in.”

“ Dark , I like it,” I laughed, cheeks heating when I realized Ben was still watching me. Maybe I’d offended him with my “naughty” comment? I hoped not.

“You can blame Bubs for that one,” Trent added and my heart warmed. I loved that fucking kid. “Said Tucker should own what made him different. Wear it like a badge of pride.”

“Smart kid.”

“The smartest.”

I liked Trent Montgomery.

I decided that immediately.

For the next forty-five minutes, because damn—Belleville was in the middle of fucking nowhere—I grilled Trent as sneakily as I could. Figured out how he and Miles had met. Figured out all the lost little details I’d missed when I’d been too blinded by exhaustion to be able to process the texts Miles was sending me.

After a solid eight hours of rest I felt like a fucking machine.

My brain was sharper than it’d been in months.

I learned that Miles and Trent had moved—which I’d already known, but it was nice to confirm—because they wanted to be closer to Gram and Miles’s work. Learned about the tree farm the Montgomery’s ran, and spent a solid five minutes fantasizing about Ben hacking trees down—forearms rippling.

Hadn’t seen his forearms yet.

But…looking at him, I sure fucking bet they rippled.

By the time we arrived in Belleville I’d almost forgotten I’d been sad about Miles not showing up.

Almost.

The town looked the same as the last time I’d visited. All picturesque mountain beauty. Picket fences. Old, homey looking buildings lining Main Street. There was a pride display in a bookshop across from a bakery that had a line out the door, and some sort of sale going on.

Pumpkin bread?

Maybe.

At least, when I squinted, I thought that was what the paint on the window said.

An old man stood on a ladder outside the hardware store, hanging up Christmas lights despite the fact it was only a few days past Halloween.

Shit, had he no shame?

“Damn, y’all work quick over here, don’t you?” I asked, my North Carolina accent sliding in thicker than before. I’d been training it out of my voice for years—but sometimes when I was relaxed it slipped right back in, smooth as butter.

“Work quick?” Trent echoed, confused.

“He’s talking about the Christmas decorations,” Ben hummed, sexy ass mind-reader—because of course, he’d seen exactly what I had. What a babe .

“Exactly, Benjamin.” I joked with a hum, pointing at the man on the ladder as we pulled to a stop at the light. “You skip right over Thanksgiving.” Ben did not react to me fake full-naming him. Which I thought either meant Benjamin was actually his name or he hadn’t noticed.

I’d have to up my game.

“Everyone knows Thanksgiving is just “First Christmas,” Trent shrugged. Ben nodded along, which surprised me, and also made me snicker. I sobered, however, eyes widening curiously as Trent pointed toward one of the buildings across the street from the hardware store. It was two down from the bookstore and had a big sign that read Montgomery Family Practice in the most practical-looking font I’d ever seen.

Like it’d been hacked up and thrown together in Microsoft Word.

Red brick, white trim. The place looked friendly as hell despite being a doctor’s office. I avoided doctors like the plague usually. I’d been to enough over the last year that I’d started to associate them with stark white and bad news. But this place was… nice- looking.

Friendly.

Way less intimidating than any of the places I’d visited back in L.A.

“That’s Ben’s place,” Trent hummed, eyes twinkling as he glanced between the two of us. “God forbid—if you ever find yourself in need of medical care.” He winked—and I flushed. “He lives right above it. Pax, Becca, and I built the place last year.”

“You built the building?” I stared at him, flabbergasted.

“They renovated the upstairs apartment.” Ben leveled Trent with a glare, then his eyes softened as he turned to look at me. “He’s not that cool.”

“I wasn’t trying to be cool,” Trent huffed—the first sign of true annoyance. “I’m just saying , it wasn’t livable until we got in there. Therefore, we built it.”

“You renovated it,” Ben doubled down.

I cracked a grin, leaning back in my seat and letting them continue to fight good-naturedly as I watched dappled orange and red trees blur alongside the jolly buildings that made up downtown Belleville. Those buildings and businesses quickly melted into houses, and with a happy hum, Trent stopped arguing with his brother for long enough to pull into the driveway of an adorable little home right in front of the Belleville Elementary School.

I knew it was Miles’s house immediately.

There was chalk on the sidewalk, Halloween-themed—like he and Bubba had spent hours out here decorating. Some of it was smudged, but most of it remained intact. A few carved pumpkins—five to be exact—sat on the front stoop, half-sagging, though the chill in the air kept them from outright rotting too soon.

I’ve never carved a pumpkin before.

It looks fun.

I jolted the second the chill bit into my skin, turning toward my now-open door with surprise. Ben waited there, cheeks bright red. He looked…fucking cute, I’m not gonna lie. Embarrassed and traditional, awkward, in his tall frame like he didn’t know quite what to do with himself as he held my door open for me.

Beneath that, however, there was a confidence to him that I couldn’t help but admire.

Like he knew exactly who and what he was, and had never questioned that for a minute.

He wasn’t thick like his brother, all brawny and stocky.

He had a leaner frame, though no less impressive. Ben Montgomery was the kind of man that looked incredible dressed to the nines in a tux. Sculpted thighs, thick enough the muscle only accentuated their length. And broad shoulders, simply because he’d been born that way. A waist that was trim and tight, and made it clear that he was probably very conscious of what he put in his body.

When I could get myself to eat, I was a human garbage disposal, so I could not relate.

The second I stepped onto the driveway—avoiding squashing one of the ghosts that had been painstakingly drawn there—my nerves came rushing back.

Because this visit was different than any of the others.

I was here for longer than I’d ever stayed.

I was here because Nancy had banished me—and told me in no uncertain terms that I was not allowed to speak to her until I was boarding my flight to L.A. for the dress rehearsal.

Things were different because Miles wasn’t staying in the house I’d bought him anymore. He had a whole-ass family of his own now. A life. A husband. Two dogs.

I wasn’t sure how there could possibly be room for me too.

And maybe…he knew that? Maybe that was why he hadn’t come out to greet me yet. Maybe that was why he’d sent Trent to go pick me up.

Because he knew as well as I did that I didn’t belong here.

“You okay?” Ben asked, because he was observant as hell. I had no idea how he’d realized I was freaking out when my face hadn’t changed a bit, but he had.

“I’m fine, biceps.” I patted said bicep, to emphasize just how fine I—and it—was.

Damn, it was just as nice as I remembered.

I leeched strength from it, before letting go and turning to face the front door.

It was red. Cheery looking. Had a Halloween wreath on it and everything.

Dread curled tight in my belly.

Does Miles not want me here?

I hated that I was having that thought again, but the longer I waited for that damn door to open the heavier the thought became. Till it weighed me down, made me feel sick to my stomach. Made my hands shake and my heart skip a beat.

Ben’s hand lay on my shoulder, as if he could sense my panic despite my brush-off. He gave it a squeeze and I melted a little. It was huge, honestly. And warm. Super fucking warm. Like—molten levels. It’d been warm at the airport too, like he naturally ran a few degrees hotter than he should.

Which was kinda fitting, considering how hot he was.

Trent cleared his throat, and Ben’s hand quickly left my body, like he’d been burned. The look Trent leveled the both of us was curious as he cocked his head, eyes narrowed, and headed toward the porch steps.

I followed after him dutifully, my shoulder super cold now that Ben wasn’t touching it.

“You first,” Trent hummed, gesturing for me to cross in front of him.

Which…in hindsight I should’ve thought was weird.

But I was kinda too panicked to do anything other than clomp my way up the front steps. My shoes offered me a few additional inches, but I still only felt a centimeter tall as I knocked on the front door and waited with bated breath to see what would happen next.

When it swung wide and Miles’s broad frame filled the doorway I only had a second to process what was happening before my feet were off the ground and I had a face full of giant-little-brother-chest. He squeezed me so tight I felt my back pop.

“Jesus fuck—” I gasped out at the same time a loud cry echoed behind Miles.

“Surprise!” At least a dozen voices cheered. Voices I didn’t fucking recognize—and couldn’t see because—again, I had a face full of little brother.

“Robin!” Miles shook me like a dog toy, toting me around like I weighed less than a soaked blanket, his big frame quaking with excitement. Behind us, Trent was laughing his ass off like they’d planned this whole thing—and Ben was quiet.

That was kinda his thing.

Tall, dark, and serious.

Miles set me down on the porch, and I groaned, shoving at his chest playfully with a grin. “Fuck, I think you broke my back.”

“Yeah, right.” Miles rolled his eyes and grinned at me. Easy as that, all my doubts fell away, and I couldn’t believe for a single second that he hadn’t wanted me here. I could see it all over his face just how happy he was. “I made cookies!” Miles grabbed me by the shoulders and marched me right into his house. “ That’s where you put your shoes,” he hummed, but didn’t give me time to take mine off before he pushed me toward the kitchen. “ That’s the living room.” He didn’t give me time to even look at the living room, or all the random strangers currently occupying it and staring at me. “Up the stairs is where the bedrooms are.”

“Uh-huh, woah—” Miles shoved me through an open archway and into a seat at a dining table. Then promptly decided that apparently breaking my back once wasn’t enough times, because right after pushing me down, he picked me right back up again and gave me another shake-hug.

“I missed you!” he breathed into my hair, smelling like cookies and Christmas and home.

“I missed you too,” I replied, my voice cracking. Miles’s grip relaxed enough I could finally hug back, legs still hanging off the floor.

I couldn’t believe I’d let doubt almost ruin this for me.

Miles was Miles . Didn’t matter how many years passed. Didn’t matter how many texts I left unanswered. He forgave me as easily as the tide cleared sand.

“ Welcome home. ” Miles gave me one last, tight squeeze before he set me down again. Suddenly my skin no longer felt too tight, and my heart was light as I settled into the spot at the table he’d designated as mine and let him ply me with treats.

He was a chatterbox when he was excited. Told me all about how he’d planned my surprise for me, then started panicking because he realized he was taking me away from the surprise he’d planned, and “oh lord, you haven’t even met everyone yet!”

And then he spent the next half hour introducing me to all his new brothers-in-law and his mother-in-law, who was a fucking riot and a half now that I knew she read werewolf porn for fun. I met Jason, the grocer. Met Leanne, the woman responsible for the pride display on Main Street.

I met Baxter—who apologized for his son Nathan’s absence, because apparently he was the one manning the line at the bakery. I didn’t get why he was apologizing, seeing as I didn’t know who the fuck Nathan was, but I appreciated it all the same.

I met a girl named Becca—she looked suspiciously like Baxter—who took one look at my outfit, gave me a thumbs-up, and told me I was—and I quote—“Hot shit. No cap.”

Maybe I was getting old, but I had no idea what the fuck half of that meant. So I just nodded and told her she was too. Which made her incredibly excited.

All the while, I searched the crowd for a familiar little blond head, only to find Bubba suspiciously missing.

By the time I was full of sugar and squashed between Miles and Trent on the couch, I felt two seconds from bursting. This was…a lot of people. Nice people, yeah. But they were still people. And I needed a break.

“Where’s Bubba?” I asked, two man-shoulders smushing me.

Jesus fuck, I was surrounded by giants.

Across the room I caught a glimpse of Ben talking to his mom. He looked visibly uncomfortable, and I had no doubt she was trying to tell him about his own books again. Which was so fucking cute, what the fuck.

“He’s comin’,” Miles assured me, grinning down at me. “He’s still getting ready.”

It’d been at least an hour since I’d gotten here.

What the hell was he doing?

As if he had read my mind, a parade of tiny feet thundered down the stairs loud enough to be heard over the low rumblings of the party. Four kid feet, and seven dog feet thumped their way into the living room as Bubba—and a kid I did not fucking recognize—burst into view.

Bubba had a poster in his hands, glitter sliding off of it and sluffing onto the floor as he held it high above his head. His head whipped around as he searched the crowd for me aaaand—the second he saw me his entire fucking face lit up.

Like Christmas.

I was off the couch in seconds, cheeks hot and uncaring of the spectacle I made launching myself across the room like a bat out of hell. Ben paused mid-conversation with his mother, his attention on me once again, and Miles looked like a fucking kid with a jar full of cookies—but all my attention went to my favorite kid in the whole fucking world.

“What’s up, pipsqueak?” I teased, sliding through the crowd and across the floor. I’d taken my shoes off at one point, and my socks offered no traction. Vibrating with glee, I paused only a foot or so away from him, my gaze caught on his familiar—and now older—face.

He was taller than the last time I’d seen him. Less baby fat too. The poster lowered down by his chest, as Bubba tipped his head up to stare at me.

“Nothing much,” Bubba waited for a beat, face scrunched up as he tried to think of a comeback. This was our favorite game. We played it every time I saw him. “Uncle…” His face pinched even more. “Idiot.”

I laughed, unable to help it, before tilting my head to admire the poster he’d made at the same time a grin split across his face.

“Welcome home!” Bubba shook the poster at me, and I did my best to cover my mirth as I read what it said.

Welcome back, Uncle Dad Robin. Dad Uncle Robin. Duncle Robin. Robin the First. Duncle Robin the 1st. Duncle Robin the 1st, the coolest duncle in all the land.

It’d never been a secret that I was Bubba’s bio dad. He was even fucking named after me. And while I’d never been present in his life the way Miles was, I’d done my fucking best to provide for him in whatever way I could.

The way my dad never had.

“I didn’t know what name to call you so I called you all of them,” Bubba declared, looking shy and excited all at the same time. “Is that cool?”

“Fuck,” my eyes burned a little. “That’s super cool. Put that poster down, you little shit, before I break it trying to hug the fuck outta you.” Laughter burst through the room, reminding me that this wasn’t a private moment at all as Bubba set the poster down carefully, commanded his tall friend to watch it, and then held his arms out expectantly.

You can bet your ass I squeezed the fuck outta the goddamn kid.

And all the while, I felt the heat of Ben’s eyes on me.

Warmer than his hand had been.

They burned .

I was more than a little glad for my nap with Ben on the plane because, without it, I had no idea how I would’ve survived the party Miles had planned for me. There were so many people and names. So many stories that I got them all jumbled up in my head.

No one seemed to recognize me, which was relieving and a bit flabbergasting.

The first time someone called me over, saying, “I know you!” I had a genuine moment of panic, only to be shocked and grateful when the man added, “You’re Miles’s brother. My kid loves his class.”

For once, it was nice to be recognized for something more than the music I no longer enjoyed making. I had what felt like a dozen encounters like that, over and over, till it was really hammered home that here—in Belleville—I was a fucking ghost.

Ben seemed to be the only person who knew who I was.

And therefore, flirting and scaring him was pushed to the back of my mind as I did my best to ward off the well-meaning townies and their many sugar-laced treats.

And by the time the party was winding down, the spiked eggnog had been emptied, and my belly was full of Christmas-flavored booze, I was more than ready for some alone time.

Which was why I was relieved as hell when Miles gave me the information for the room I’d asked him to book for me at the B&B downtown. Because he knew me—the little shit—he hadn’t tried to offer me his guest room. Which I appreciated a lot.

We both knew I needed space sometimes.

Not that I was looking forward to another sleepless night staring at floral, but still.

As I was wandering toward the back door to head outside for a breather—after my last shot of the night—I was chased down by a small cherubic little girl in black.

She stood with Beatrice, Miles’s mother-in-law, and her little blonde hair was in piggies. Her honey-colored eyes narrowed as she looked up at me, tiny hands clenched into fists.

“You swear lots,” she told me sagely. I nodded because I did. “You owe me lots of monies.”

Ah. So this was Rosie.

Ben’s daughter.

I had the most ungodly urge to bite her chubby lil cheek ’cause she was cuter than shit, but didn’t. “How much, Al Pacino?” I asked, pulling out my wallet, my movements a little sluggish from the booze.

Beatrice laughed, her dark eyes dancing as she stared at me appraisingly. “You don’t need to pay Rosie,” she said, amused.

“Yeah, I do.” I shrugged a shoulder, flipping through the black leather, looking for cash. I didn’t have a ton of options. A hundred dollar bill. A couple twenties. “How much, short-stop?”

“Short-stop?” She squinted up at me, face pinched. I licked my finger, wiggling through the bills with an eyebrow waggle. I waited patiently, curious to see what she’d say. She eyed the twenties, little lips pressed into a thin line.

“Yeah. ’Cause you’re short.”

“You’re a bigger short-stop,” she countered like the two-foot-tall badass she was.

What a comeback! Vicious as hell.

“Right in the kidneys,” I mock-gasped, still waiting. I don’t think she actually expected me to be willing to pay her because she looked pretty shocked. However, she got over that pretty quick, and her eyes started to glint like a dog watching a treat, set on my money.

“You swore thirty-seven times.” She blinked, her curly blonde lashes fluttering.

“I didn’t know babies could count,” I muttered under my breath, amused as I grabbed both my twenties and handed them over. She very carefully took the bills, folding them and shoving them in the front of her dress like she expected me to take them back. “Keep the change.”

“I’m not a baby,” Rosie told me, her brow furrowed and eyes full of the fury of a thousand suns. “I’m four.”

“My bad.” I held up my hands to placate her.

Beatrice stared at me, amused. “You are a wild one,” she decided after a moment as Rosie grinned evilly down at her money, like a fucking black-frill-wearing Scrooge. She seemed happy now that she’d robbed me.

I’d known very few toddlers in my life. I’d only gotten to see Bubba like twice when he was that age, and I’d been half comatose after a tour both times. My retention of that time was not great.

Maybe all toddlers were maniacal bankers.

“Where’s your sister?” I asked, before she could walk away. Ben had mentioned having two daughters.

Instead of answering, Rosie simply stared up at me with those huge fucking eyes and said, “no.”

And then they both walked off.

While that had been an endlessly amusing experience, I was officially overstimulated and way too drunk to try to people anymore. So I said my goodbyes and headed outside like planned. I knew Miles would’ve tried to drive me if I hadn’t literally bolted out of the house, so I worked quickly, ducking out the back door and into the yard to avoid the worst of the indoor crowd.

It was fucking cold out.

The stars glittered between the black drooping branches of a large maple tree. An abandoned but well-maintained grill sat in the back corner of the leaf-strewn grass, and the shed in the other corner of the yard was padlocked shut. I had no doubt that the Johnson-Montgomery household had some picturesque lawn furniture locked away in there.

Something perfect and wonderful for the summer months.

Making a beeline to the darkest part of the yard, I sat on the edge of the fire pit, took a steadying breath, and tried to process the last five hours. Coming here was…a lot. Made me happy, yeah. But it made me sad too.

Mostly it just made me feel grateful.

To see that despite all my fuck-ups and our shitty upbringing, Miles had gotten exactly what he wanted.

He was so…happy here.

I was terrified of ruining that.

Like poison, I tainted everything I touched.

My nipples were hard and cold and uncomfortable, but I ignored that, curling into a tighter ball, the alcohol in my system making my movements feel sluggish and disjointed. My backpack felt impossibly heavy, everything that mattered to me packed neatly inside. Tingling tingles lit up my limbs as I closed my eyes and breathed.

I was only here for the holidays.

This wasn’t my home.

I knew that.

But what if…what if it could be?

Was there room for me here?

“You okay?” A familiar, deep voice echoed through the dark, lighting me up from the inside out. My eyes opened, and to no one’s surprise—especially not mine—Ben Montgomery was standing just a few feet in front of me. I hadn’t even heard him approach. His silhouette was lit up gold from the lights still on in the house behind him.

He’d disappeared for a while there.

It was only the presence of his children that had cued me in to the fact that he was still around. I hadn’t expected to see him again, but I was unsurprised that he’d come looking for me.

It’s like I summoned him with my mind.

“I’m fine, Benjamin Button,” I hummed.

He didn’t respond to this nickname either.

Which was…fun.

And also a fucking challenge if I’d ever heard one. Ben was full of challenges.

“You don’t seem fine. It’s cold. You’re barely dressed.” He stood there, awkwardly towering over me, and my heart gave a weird little flutter. “And you’re out here alone in the dark.”

Don’t hit on him, Robin.

Don’t do it.

“It’s just…loud in there, you know?” I offered the truth easily. “Lots of people. Not that that isn’t great, because it is. But my brain just—” I made a fizzling motion beside my temple. “And I’m…”

“You’re…?” Ben waited, as patient as I’d been with his daughter just a few minutes prior.

“I can’t think when you’re towering over me. Come sit.” I patted the stone beside mine and Ben frowned but strode my way anyway after a moment of deliberation. He sat beside me, still towering. He couldn’t help that he was a goddamn giant.

“Better?” Ben asked.

“Not really. You’re still fucking huge, dude.”

Ben laughed, and the sound lit me up all over again. It was weird. I didn’t often like people, not like this. He was…nice. Which wasn’t usually the kinda person I found myself drawn to, but I didn’t fight it. Why would I? When he smelled like a department store cologne and he chuckled like that?

“You were telling me why you look sad,” Ben reminded me as if I’d forgotten.

“I’m not sad ,” I told him, staring up at Miles’s perfect house, and his perfect family inside it, and the perfect world he lived in.

“Bullshit.”

“ Careful , Rosie might hear you,” I joked, shrugging a shoulder. “She already emptied out my wallet. She’ll come for yours next.”

“ What ?” Ben’s eyes widened. He was obviously surprised I’d met Rosie. Or maybe he was surprised that his daughter was a four-year-old mob boss. Either way, the surprise was real. And looked really fucking cute on his face. Thick brows drawn high and together, a little tick in his jaw, his lashes as dark and fluttery as fucking Bambi.

“Sorry, I deflect when I’m nervous,” I admitted, my mouth suddenly dry.

Ben softened, his surprise melting away as he nodded. “Me too.”

“Miles is happy,” I told him, finally answering his question because he’d asked. I’d learned throughout my life that people didn’t ask unless they cared at least a little. And maybe sometimes they only cared because they wanted to hurt you. But when I looked into Ben’s eyes I didn’t see any ire at all.

And I figured…even though I’d already decided I wouldn’t climb him like I wanted to, it wouldn’t be a bad thing if I left Belleville after the holidays with a Ben-shaped friend.

“He is,” Ben agreed, patient as ever.

“I’m not sad ,” I repeated, even though my eyes burned and a tear slipped its way down the shell of my cheek.

Ben frowned at me, calling bullshit without even having to open his mouth. He shifted a little, though the movement was awkward, betraying how uncomfortable talking about feelings must make him. His shoulder brushed mine. I melted.

“I’m happy.” I sniffed, the alcohol getting to me. Or maybe it was the sleepless nights. The loneliness.

“You look super happy,” Ben deadpanned sarcastically. He reached out and gently scrubbed a thumb across my cheek. I imagined he did the same thing for his toddlers, and that should’ve ruined that for me, should’ve made me feel small and babyish. Should’ve filled me with shame, but it didn’t.

Instead, I felt warm and safe and cared for.

“Shut up,” I snorted, brow scrunching just like his was. I reached up to bat him off, but realized halfway through the motion that I didn’t want to. So I dropped my hand back to my lap, thumb picking at the chipped polish on my pointer finger instead. “I’m just…”

We were back to this again.

An annoying loop I’d caused, but I couldn’t seem to stop.

“I’m just worried I’m going to ruin it.”

“Why do you think you would ruin it?” Ben asked, dropping his hand from my face and taking its comfort with him.

It was only because I was drunk that the next words slipped free.

Normally, when I was well-rested my mind was a steel trap. But the eggnog had whittled away my walls. Or maybe that was Ben’s influence. Ben and his observant, gorgeous eyes. Ben and the fact that he was quiet enough to hear me, even when I whispered.

Inhibitions be damned, my darkest secret spilled from my lips to a total stranger.

“I’m poison. That’s just what I do.”