“No.”
“Great. Character growth.” She takes two glasses from the tray. “I can carry water, Prince.”
“You can also sit down.”
“I’ve been sitting down for a week. My ass is starting to think we’re in a committed relationship with the sofa.”
It comes out dry enough that I snort quietly, and somehow that makes it easier to let her go when she turns toward Remi. I still follow three steps behind her, though. I haven’t quite managed to let her out of my sight much, yet.
Penny notices and glances back over her shoulder. “Subtle.”
“I’m not aiming for subtle.”
She sets one of the waters near Remi without making a big thing of it, then another beside Rhodes. Remi looks up like it takes all the effort she has to drag herself back into the room.
“Thank you,” she says in a distant voice.
Penny nods. “Someone once told me hydration is emotionally important.”
Remi’s mouth twitches, and I nod.
“Colt used to say that right before putting his weird pre-workout in a water bottle,” I add.
Rhodes stares down into his whiskey. “He once told me it counted as premium vitamins.”
“Itwasvitamins,” Ghost murmurs from the next table. “For people who hate their kidneys.”
The small laugh that moves through the nearest tables is rough and uneven, and Remi’s breath catches on something dangerously close to one too. She presses her lips together, eyes shining, and Penny steps back before the moment can become too much.
When she returns to my side, her fingers find mine.
“You don’t have to earn being here,” I remind her.
Her gaze stays on our joined hands. “I wasn’t.”
Liar.
Before I can answer, the opening beat of a Spice Girls song blasts through Neverland, and every firefighter in the place groans.
Fletch turns accusingly toward Tucker. “This feels like a cop crime.”
“I didn’t touch it!”
Gwen looks up from the bar. “Nobody change it.”
Fletch’s mouth drops open. “You’reallowingthis to happen?”
“Colt once sang this entire chorus into a pool cue,” Gwen says, her eyes dancing. “Badly. So nobody’s changing it.”
Fletch turns to Finn so fast his beer nearly sloshes. “Important question, Ashgrove.”
“Oh no,” Frankie mutters.
“Favorite Spice Girl,” Fletch demands.
Finn pauses, his eyes sliding briefly to Gwen behind the bar, and his mouth tugs at one corner.
“Always had a thing for Scary.”
