Page 299 of Rush

I scan the list, crossing out questions about who I’m dating and growing up a Montgomery—both still too raw. I hand the sheet back to Kylie without a word. She nods, understanding.

“Can you arrange for Riley to come to those too?” I ask Mark.

“Woo,” Riley cheers from the sofa, already glued to her phone.

“Certainly,” Mark replies.

A knock at the door has everyone turning.

“Rio?” I ask.

Mark moves to open it.

Ava Edwards stands there, champagne bottle in hand.

“Welcome to the neighborhood, pretty lady!” Ava screams, barreling inside. She wraps me in a hug so fierce I nearly lose my balance. “I’ve missed you!”

“Post some content together—the fans will lose their minds,” Kylie says with a wink. She’s grinning, and I’m pretty sure it’s the first genuine smile I’ve ever seen from her.

“We’ll leave you guys to catch up,” Mark says, herding her toward the door.

The moment it clicks shut behind them, the energy changes—a quiet excitement fills the air.

“I’ve missed touring with you,” Ava says, already popping the champagne. The cork ricochets off the ceiling, and Riley whoops from the sofa.

“Hey, babe, come join us,” I call.

Riley sits up, vaults over the back of the sofa like it’s an Olympic sport, and skips over barefoot.

“Ava, this is Riley—my best friend since forever.”

“Well,hello, gorgeous,” Ava says, flashing that megawatt smile like it’s second nature.

“Oh my God,” Riley breathes, her knees visibly wobbling.

I laugh, warmth blooming in my chest.

“Not to be weird or anything,” Riley blurts, hands flapping, “but you are so fucking beautiful.”

Ava throws her head back, laughing. “I like her already.”

“Uh-oh,” I smirk. “Looks like someone’s having bi-panic.”

“Babe, I enjoy dick way too much,” Riley says solemnly, “but for Ava? I could be persuaded.”

Ava nearly spits her champagne.

Laughter fills the room—bright, unrestrained, easy—and it feels good to let go a little. To embrace the familiar chaos. To surround myself with people who don’t expect answers from me. People who don’t ask me to be anything other than myself.

Growing up, it was always Riley and me against the world. We had friends come and go, but we were constant.

It’s strange—putting myself out there, living, means meeting new people. Building something. New memories.

Memories I wish I could share with my mom.

I can’t help but wonder what she’d think of them. Of the people who surround me—who support me.

I watch Riley and Ava fall into an effortless rhythm—already bonding—and relief washes through me. Still, I can’t help wishing Philippa were here to experience this too.