Page 169 of Pucked Around and Found Out

Something in those words loosens a knot I've been carrying in my chest for weeks. A small smile finds my lips before I can stop it.

“Don't get lost for too long though.” Harper's voice is thick at the edges, her jaw set in that way she does when she's refusing to cry. “I am not missing the birth of that baby.”

“You won't,” I promise, and I mean it with everything I have. “If I'm not back by then, I'll tell you exactly where I am so you can come to me.”

“And me.”

I blink. Turning to look at Carn.

He crosses the room before I can respond, eliminating the space between us with quiet, deliberate steps. He takes my face in both his hands, gentle in a way that has always surprised me coming from someone who looks like him, then holds my gaze with a look of such complete, unwavering certainty that my breath catches.

“I will be there for you always. In whatever capacity you need me to be.” His voice is steady and low, like a vow being made in a church. “My life may be rooted elsewhere, darlin’, but distance means nothing when it comes to you. I'll drive through the night or catch the first flight out of Denver. If you need me, I will come. Sometimes I'll come even when you don't want me to, because I know you better than you give me credit for. I know when you need someone, even when you're convincing yourself you don't.” His thumbs trace my cheekbones with a tenderness that threatens to undo me completely. “You hold a place inside me that no one else ever has. I don't say that with expectation or agenda. I say it because it's simply the truth, and you deserve to hear true things.”

My vision blurs. The lump in my throat makes it impossible to speak, so I don't try. I just place my hands over his and hold on, and let myself feel the full weight of what this man means to me.

Carnage De Santis came into my life sideways, unexpected and unasked for. Somewhere along the way he became one of the most important people I have ever known. I love him. Not romantically, not like a brother, not like a best friend but in some category that exists entirely on its own, one that doesn't have a clean name. He is proof that love doesn't always arrive in the shape you expect, and sometimes the people who hold you together the most are the ones you never saw coming.

“When a man loves a woman,” he says quietly, “she becomes his weakness.” My breath hitches. “When a woman truly loves a man, he becomes her power. That is an exchange of power, darlin’.”

“What does that mean?” The words come out barely above a whisper.

His thumbs move softly against my face, and a gentle smile, rare and unguarded crosses his features. “It means Devlin has a weakness.” His eyes hold mine without flinching. “And she is currently standing in front of me, loving him from a distance.” A sound escapes me that I have no name for, something strangled and raw and completely beyond my control. “You have the strength to put yourself first because he has become your power. He gave you that without knowing it. Maybe without meaning to.”

The words land like something physical, like a hand pressed flat against my sternum, holding me upright and cracking me open at the same time. They play on a loop long after he's released me and quietly left the room, leaving Harper and me standing in a silence so full it hums.

Harper is staring at the empty doorway with wide eyes, looking as undone as I feel.

After a long moment she clears her throat. “I had a speech.” Her voice is still thick but she rallies because that's what Harper does. “It wasn't anywhere near as good as that.”

A laugh breaks out of me—involuntary and desperate and exactly what I need. “Clearly.”

She smirks, and just like that the tension cracks down the middle and we can both breathe again. “All I was gonna say is Xaden needs to stop acting like a dicktim.”

I blink. “A what?”

“A dicktim.” She says it with the authority of someone who coined the term herself. “Acting like a dick while simultaneously playing the victim.”

Laughter bursts out of me so fast it startles me, loud and unrestrained and achingly normal. She grins, delighted with herself.

“What? It was either that or pointing out that you are thoroughly multifucktional.”

I choke. “Do I want to know?”

The glint in her eye answers before she does. “It means you are doing entirely too much and hanging on by a single, fraying thread.”

I snort. “That's…” I pause, genuinely considering it. “Actually devastatingly accurate.”

She takes a small bow. I roll my eyes. And for just a moment… just this one suspended, golden moment, everything is exactly as it used to be. Just us. Just this.

Then the silence comes back, softer this time. Honest.

“Harp—”

She raises her hand before I can finish. “I know, Tor.” Her voice breaks at the edges, just barely. “I know. I get it. I really, truly do.” She exhales shakily. “I just hate that finding yourself means leaving. I hate that starting over requires a departure.”

The air rushes out of me.

She crosses the room and wraps her arms around me and I melt into her completely. Into the familiar warmth of my best friend, the person who has seen every version of me and loved them all unconditionally. I hold her back with everything I have, screwing my eyes shut against the tears that are threatening to fall.