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Fuck.

Footsteps draw my attention. Callie stands there with enough luggage beside her for a six-month deployment.

“I said a bag. I didn’t mean bring your whole house.”

Callie looks at the suitcase. “This is a bag. And not even close to my entire house.”

“That's luggage.”

“A suitcase is literally a type of bag.” She points at a suitcase. “I was packing for two.”

“Why does the dog have one?”

“He has needs.”

Drew laughs but quickly turns it into a cough.

“Fuck my life,” I murmur.

41

ROMAN

I close my eyes. Callie packed a suitcase for the fucking dog.

Behind me, Drew makes a noise suspiciously close to a laugh.

I open them, my gaze narrowing on Callie. “Isn’t the iPad and a blanket enough? What else does he need?”

Callie puts a hand on her hip. “Plenty. Our dog needs food. Treats. Toys. Leash. Sweater. Blankets⁠—”

“He's not my dog.”

Alibi sits beside my leg. Drew coughs. I glare at him. He immediately looks somewhere else.

“Are you ready?” I ask.

“Almost.” Callie grabs her purse from the table.

I reach for the handle of the largest suitcase.

She smiles. “Aw.”

“Don't.”

“You're carrying my luggage.”

“I want to leave sometime tonight.”

“Very boyfriend-like of you.”

“I'm not your boyfriend.”

Drew and Violet exchange a look.

I point at both of them. “Don't.”

Neither says anything.