He winks, and my stomach does that annoying flip it always does around him.
“Okay, lovebirds, cool it before I lose my appetite,” Nesta calls from the patio, cracking open a beer. She is lounging with Noah and Knox, who are already deep in some kind of debate about who would win in a fight—aliens or vampires. Classic.
“Aliens, obviously. Advanced tech,” Noah argues, waving his beer around like it punctuates his point.
Knox shakes his head and leans back in the chair, relaxed but smug. “Vampires have centuries of strategy and strength. Plus, they’re practically immortal.”
Nesta rolls her eyes. “You boys and your hypothetical battles. Someone pass me the chips.”
I laugh and turn back to Ash as he slides a perfectly cooked burger onto a plate. “You sure you’re not trying to winGrill Masterstoday?”
He glances sideways at me, his voice low enough only I can hear. “I’m just trying to impress you.”
God. He doesn’t have to try that hard.
“Consider me impressed,” I murmur before grabbing the plate and making a beeline for the table before my face betrays exactly how much I mean that.
As we all gather around, our plates piled high with food, Nesta raises her drink. “To rare weekends off, slightly burnt burgers, and friends who know too much about mythical creatures.”
“And to Ash, finally not burning down the place,” Knox adds with a smirk.
Ash raises his spatula in salute. “Hey, it was a close call.”
We all laugh, the kind that fills your chest up in the best way. It is easy here—with them. The noise, the teasing, the way Ash’s fingers brush mine under the table when no one is looking.
Secret or not, this? This feels exactly right.
I stand at the sink, warm water rushing over my hands as I scrub the last of the food off a plate. The backyard is quieter now, the music softer, the sounds of laughter fading into the night as everyone relaxes into that end-of-the-evening calm. The sliding door creaks open behind me, and I don’t have to turn around toknow who it is—Noah has that heavy-footed walk that somehow still sounds casual.
“Need a hand?” he asks, already grabbing a dish towel.
“I’m almost done, but knock yourself out,” I reply, sliding him a dripping plate.
We work in silence for a moment, the kind that isn’t awkward, just… weighted. I can feel him eyeing me as if he’s working something out in his head.
“You’re quiet,” I finally say, drying my hands on a dish towel. “That usually means something’s coming.”
He smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “You’re not wrong.” He sets the plate down and leans against the counter, arms crossed. “I’m not trying to be the overprotective best friend here?—”
I raise a brow. “But here we are.”
“Yeah, exactly.” He hesitates like he is carefully choosing his next words. “I know about you and Ash.”
I freeze for half a second, and the plate slips in my hands before I catch it. “Noah?—”
“Relax, I’m not about to blow it up. I get why you’re keeping it quiet—commanding officer, the whole tour dynamic. But…” He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Ash is my guy. Us rookies gotta stick together.”
There is no malice in his tone, no accusation. Just… care.
Turning to face him fully, I set the plate down. “I get it. I do. And you’re right to look out for him. But this isn’t some reckless thing, Noah. I care about him. More than I probably should, given the situation.”
His jaw ticks like he is chewing it over. “He’s not casual about this, Amelia. He’s all in. And I just—” He shakes his head. “I don’t want him hurt because of this complicated situation.”
The honesty in his voice twists something sharp in my chest.
“I’m not planning on hurting him.” I take a breath. “But I know it’s messy. I’m trying to figure it out without putting everything at risk.”
He studies me for a long beat before finally nodding. “Good. ’Cause if you break his heart, I’m still contractually obligated to be your friend, but I’ll be very passive-aggressive about it.”
