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But also… they’re all okay. The kids are growing up, and even though I’m not there for all of it doesn’t mean I’m failing them or that they won’t know who I am. It just means I’m prioritizing my dreams and hopefully setting an example for them that one day they could do that too.

I love them. I love being here. But I also love my life in Seattle. And those two things don’t have to contradict each other.

Instead of being at war with myself over a choice no one is even asking me to make, I head into the kitchen, where Claire is already at the table and Tommy is climbing into his chair next to Dan and Melissa. My mom is pouring orange juice, and my dad looks to be plating the final pancakes from the griddle.

“There he is,” Dad says, grinning as I enter the room. “Thought you were gonna sleep all day.”

“Not a chance. Couldn’t miss your pancakes.”

“Well, dig in. There’s plenty.”

I slide into the chair across from Melissa who is looking at me over her coffee with a grin. “Late night?” she asks sweetly.

“I guess.”

“Does two AM not count as late to you? Am I really that old?” Dan chimes in.

“Did you go out after your Friendsgiving?” Mom asks.

Before I can even respond, Dan is running his mouth again. “Yeah, any chance you ran into that mosquito again? The one that got you last year?”

Mom looks between us, confused. “Mosquitoes? In November?”

“Freak mosquito, very rare.” I say, glaring at Dan before turning to Mom. “Do you mind passing the syrup?”

She does and it’s the distraction I hope it is as Dad launches into a story about the neighbor’s new snowblower he got for Black Friday. My mind starts to wander, and it wanders exactly where I expected. To Marcus.

It’s hard not to, when I shift in my chair and my ass reminds me of exactly where he was less than twelve hours ago.

Fuck it. Maybe I should just text him. He’s probably awake by now, right?

Under the table, I pull out my phone.

Me:

Have a safe drive back today.

I hit send before I can delete it. It’s the most boring text I’ve ever sent, and my heart’s still pounding like I just asked him to come visit me.

I put my phone face-down next to my plate, and for the rest of breakfast, I don’t let myself look at it.

Much.

CHAPTER 11

Marcus

The girl in front of me is mid-sentence about some show, gesturing with her drink—black fishnets with a band tee and boots perfectly scuffed as if she bought them that way. Her dark eyeliner is smudged just enough to look intentional, and two months ago, she would’ve been exactly my type, but tonight, I’m just nodding along. I can’t recall a single reason why I should watch this show or even remember what it’s called.

I have only one person to blame for this.

Evan.

He’s all I fucking think about.

I don’t know why my brain is so latched on to him. I’ve hooked up with plenty of people twice or more in my life, and none of them ever stuck around in my head the way he has. His text messages don’t help either. My phone vibrated a minute ago, and I’m hoping it’s from him. Not that there’s much competition.

“Anyway, it’s the best thing I’ve ever seen,” she concludes her pitch.