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“Stop agreeing like you already won.”

“I did win.”

“You did not.”

Heavy footsteps pound against the stairs outside the loft.

I close my eyes.

Charm turns toward the door as the footsteps climb higher.

The universe loves fucking with me.

The door swings open without a knock and it’s like a fucking omen. “Merry Christmas, fam!” Briggs announces as he enters carrying a bottle of champagne, a bag from the bakery, and one of my knit hats he stole three weeks ago. “I brought cinnamon rolls because neither of you can be trusted with holiday breakfast.”

Charm does not say merry Christmas.

She screams.

Briggs freezes as she runs across the kitchen, grabs both of his hands, and starts jumping. He drops the bakery bag onto the counter and immediately jumps with her.

“What are we excited about?” he shouts.

“We’re buying a house!”

“That’s fucking awesome!”

They jump faster, turning in a clumsy circle between the island and the stove.

“A really fancy house!” Charm yells.

“With a pool?” Briggs asks.

“Apparently!”

“Fuck yes!”

I watch both of them behave like overgrown children while my eggs turn cold behind me.

Charm releases one of his hands and points at me. “Tell him.”

Briggs continues bouncing. “Tell me what?”

“No, you tell him,” I say.

She looks at Briggs. “You get to come with us.”

He stops jumping.

Charm bounces twice more before realizing he is no longer moving.

“What?” he asks.

“We’re getting a guesthouse.”

He looks at me.

Then at her.