Grace wraps Fowler and I in hugs before pulling Connor in, too. “You made it. I hope you enjoyed our last show!”
“Of course we did!” I say.As if we’d miss this.
“Wasn’t going to miss it,” Fowler adds.
But all Grace does is grin. “You made it,” she says, breathless, voice pitched high from adrenaline.
“Wouldn’t miss it,” I say, and it’s true. Fowler nods, speechless for once.
A flash goes off. I turn to find Briar with a grin on her face and a phone in her hands.
Grace’s grin widens. “Yes! Thank you, Briar.” But then concern grows on her face. “Wait.” She looks around and then spots Charlotte. “Charlotte!”
Charlotte meets her gaze and then comes running over. Grace introduces Briar and Charlotte, and together they leave the three of us in the dust. They head down the hallway laughing and giggling, and honestly, Grace looks so happy that I’m not even disappointed that we don’t have more time with her.
Because those friendships are important. And we have a whole life ahead of us.
Happiness looks good on Reverie Pack.
I can’t wait to see the future we create with it.
CHAPTER 32
GRACE
There’s something unfairly magical about the scent of three alphas and the distant possibility of a delicious breakfast all swirling together at nine in the morning.
Connor is sprawled on my sofa. He’s picked up my Sudoku book and is staring at it as if the numbers will rearrange themselves if he looks menacing enough. Zev has somehow managed to sneak out to the store and return with the fixings to make pancakes without anyone noticing. My kitchen is his now where he stands shirtless. I’m not even allowed to pass the doorway. Fowler, beautiful disaster that he is, is fiddling with my window fan and getting nowhere. The window fan is two years older than I am and responds to threats by whirring out its last wishes before resuming its regular stutter.
It hasn’t really beat the heat since the start of summer, so it won’t now. I’m honestly not quite sure why Fowler keeps trying. Except that he always does, and that’s why I love him.
“Grace, do you want bananas in yours?” Zev asks.
“Bananas are good.” I pour myself some orange juice. “Chocolate chips are also allowed. You are also allowed to not make me breakfast every morning, I promise you I’m capable of making my own.”
He snorts and flips a pancake one-handed. “I was up and had to do something.” Zev’s not yet lined up another coaching job since summer ended. I assume he’ll end up working in the school system again at some point, but he’s taking the days as they come.
Fowler, meanwhile, has deconstructed the fan and is now using a butter knife to gesture at the interior. “I think it’s dust. I should be able to fix it.”
You can certainly try.“Just don’tbreakit, please.”
My phone rings. All three of their heads swivel toward me.
I scoop up the phone and read the screen. My pulse doubles as I pick up the call and put the phone to my ear. “Director Hannah,” I say, trying to sound casual and not like my stomach is now a vault full of angry bees.
Reverie is over. So why is she calling me now?
Zev drops the spatula. “That’s either very good or very bad.”
I wave him off and walk down the hallway to my bedroom. “Hello?”
Hannah clears her throat. “Grace! Oh, thank god I got you. I won’t keep you long—I know you’re probably decompressing after that wild summer, but I needed to catch you before you got back to classes. Are you still going to Old Harbor for your senior year?”
I blink. “Yes, so I’ll be in Boston at least through next summer. What’s up?”
There’s a silence, then a paper-shuffling sound. “I want you back next year.”
My brain does a full blue-screen. “For—?” I manage, then realize what she means and my knees go weak. “For Reverie?”
