The back door swings open, a burst of morning light trailing in behind Trey as he strides into the kitchen with that trademark energy that never seems to sleep.
His grin is wide, phone still in hand, his voice carrying before he’s even halfway across the room.
“Guess who just landed a set at Reverb in the Pines?”
Chace nearly chokes on his coffee. “You’re joking.”
Trey beams. “Nope. Phil pulled some strings. Just one slot—but it’s ours. We’re on the lineup, baby!”
He tosses his phone onto the counter like a mic drop and spreads his arms wide. “Come on, show me some love!”
Chace whoops and slaps his hand. I let out a small gasp, a smile breaking over my face before I can stop it.
“Wait— Reverb in the Pines? As in Montreal, I know you all were excited and wanted to go, to take me, but to perform?” I ask, heart fluttering with excitement.
“Yass, baby girl, and you will of course have the best seat in the house while we perform, so long as you are willing to wear a T-shirt or baseball cap flaunting out merch or your undying love of us.” Trey says, proud as hell. “And there’s more. Phil also wants to talk to you, Logan—something about a charity event. Says it’s local, tied to the disability Centre you and Braden worked with last year.”
I glance at Logan, ready to echo my excitement—but his expression is less thrilled.
He groans, rubbing a hand down his face. “Great. I just wanted to attend the damn festival with you guys. Maybe actually enjoy the music for once instead of running around backstage.”
I nudge his arm, barely holding back a laugh. “Oh, come on. This is even better.”
He arches a brow. “Better than being in the crowd with you, hands in the air, making fun of every band before us?”
I grin. “Way better. Because now I get to watch you perform. I get to be in the crowd, screaming your name. Full fangirl mode.”
Chace snorts. “You gonna wear our merch and be our number one groupie?”
“I might.” I smirk.
Trey leans against the counter, arms crossed, watching us with a half-smile. “You sure you’re up for it?”
I nod without hesitation. “Yeah. I feel… good today. Braden would’ve wanted me to be there. To live again. And this—this is living.”
Chapter 16
Logan
The next few weeks pass in a blur of rehearsals, doctor appointments, and long drives between borrowed moments of normal.
I still see all the follow-up’s scribbled on Mac’s calendar—neurologist check-ins, therapy, the odd blood test. She says she’s fine—mostly, I believe her... But I still catch the flicker in her eyes when someone brings up a memory she hasn’t gotten back. A shared joke she doesn’t remember. A familiar tune she doesn’t recognize.
And every damn time, it chips away at me.
But she keeps showing up.
To every session. Every practice. Every quiet, early morning coffee run.
She’s piecing her life back together with this quiet, relentless strength that makes me fall even harder for her than I thought possible.
Somewhere in the middle of all that healing, she found one of her Gram’s old baking recipe books—handwritten, splattered with flour and history—and she’s been in the kitchen ever since.
At first, it was just something to do. A way to keep her hands busy. But then she started adding her own touches—a splash of vanilla here, a hint of orange zest there. Before long, it wasn’t just baking.
It was Mac.
She found this part of herself back in Portland, working for Patty. Back when she was just happy to be. But here? Now? This is different. This is her happiness, served warm.
