Doll Parts (The Game 4)

He smirked wryly. “Mexico? Only time I left the country. My grandparents moved to Georgia after they retired, so we always went there.”

Well, he was only twenty-four. He had all the time in the world to explore—and I hoped I got to be there.

“By the way, I really want that madhouse,” he said quietly. “Just so you know.”

I kissed his forehead. “Me too, darling. Now that I have you, I’m not letting you go.”

It would be easy to take it a step further and say I hoped I’d one day get Noa’s blessing to ask Cam to marry me, to turn three names on the mailbox into two, but it would be wise for me to hold my fucking horses a while longer. I hadn’t told him I loved him yet.

Patience and all that.

Fucking patience. I was in my first healthy relationship in so long, and I wanted everything at once. But I saved those frustrations for my occasional evening walks with KC.

Patience.

EPILOGUE

Lucian Leroux

It felt strange to arrive at our monthly munch just a week later. Two storms had passed, taking most of the summer heat with them, turning the rooftop terrace on top of Macklin’s restaurant a bit chilly. Which suited me perfectly.

October was going to be a good month. I could feel it. Fall was in the air. Noa was already excited about Halloween, and KC and I suddenly had a packed holiday calendar. We had a Halloween party to attend at the estate, put together by Ivy and a few other subs, we had dinner dates planned, a Thanksgiving dinner by Chef Cam to enjoy, not with my dreadfully dull extended family, and Christmas… I couldn’t remember the last time I’d looked forward to a Christmas celebration.

I knew KC couldn’t either. He walked up next to me and looked out over the two long picnic tables that were full as usual, and he was thinking the same thing I was. The last munch we’d attended two months ago, we couldn’t have conjured today’s reality even if we’d been drunk off our asses. A lot had happened.

“Can you grasp that it’s been less than two months?” he asked quietly. “I can’t for the life of me wrap my head around it.”

“Me either.” I only remembered the misery from back then. Christ, we’d been two sorry sacks of self-pity. “Let’s find some seats before the boys get here.”

We didn’t enjoy spending the night without the boys; that was for certain. But they’d both had to work late yesterday, so they’d stayed in town.

Safe to say, KC and I were going to begin our apartment hunt soon. Primarily, of course, because we wanted to be closer to the boys. But KC had another reason, which he was still mildly annoyed about. It was his own fault. He was the one who struggled to say no to Noa, who had seized the opportunity to strike a deal with KC after a long pain session. With eyelashes thick with tears and a pair of puppy-dog eyes, Noa had admitted that he wanted to wait to tell his mother about our relationship until we had “reached the next step.” AKA, when it was “more serious.”

As if we weren’t serious already. For chrissakes. Sometimes I couldn’t believe how whipped KC could be.

Other times…I could.

I cleared my throat and ushered KC to a few available spots near Kingsley, Greer, and Macklin.

A handful of faces were missing today. I knew River and Reese couldn’t make it. They’d texted last night to say they had a cold, though I’d hoped to see Shay here. Then there was Colt. I’d heard Lucas mentioning something about Colt staying at Langley Air Force Base for a little while, but I wasn’t sure it was this weekend. Either way, neither of them was here, same for Kit.

“Have I mentioned that I hate picnic tables?” KC muttered.

“Every time we’re up here.” I kissed his cheek, then helped him get his legs over the bench. “I assume we’ll be indoors by next munch.”

“One can hope.” He smiled wryly and nudged Kingsley next to him. “You’re impossible to track down these days, man. How are you holding up?”

Kingsley wasn’t going to tell the truth. He and I had never gotten very close; KC had done better. KC could pry gently and find the right opportunity to dig. But now wasn’t one of them.

“Eh. It is what it is,” Kingsley replied. “What about you guys? You seemed all kinds of blissed out at the Game.”

I inched back as Ivy and a server came with our preordered drinks, and I nodded in thanks. The low murmur of countless conversations around us made me miss KC’s response.

I did hope Kingsley and Tate could find their way back together, though. Their breakup had been the first one I could think of where we didn’t know who would “get the community in the divorce,” so to speak. Because relationships ended all the time, and one party always left. In this case, I wanted both to stay.