Chapter NINE-ZEKE

Dinner was a rambunctious affair.

Smoke, laughter, beer, and way too many people talking over each other while pretending they weren’t trying to one-up Max’s grilling skills.

Spoiler alert: no one beats the Jersey Devil’s steak rub.

I can’t say I have a lot of experience with big family barbecues.

Not the real kind.

You know, the kind with kids running half-feral, music playing through a duct-taped speaker, and couples slipping off into the shadows for just a minute that lasts two hours.

But I didn’t hate it.

Didn’t hate the way everyone seemed to fit, like some messy puzzle that still made sense even with a few corners scorched or bent.

Didn’t hate watching Casey laugh over a plate of food like she wasn’t carrying the weight of something heavy and dangerous behind her eyes.

Didn’t hate sitting next to her, feeling the heat of her thigh brush mine every now and then as if the universe was daring me to lean just a little closer.

And then there was Kian.