Page 71 of One Room Vacancy

“Tonight, maybe?” I ask, voice low.

Her brow arches. “What, break the rules again?”

I grin, but there’s a flicker of something else behind it—something softer. “Sleep with your roommate.”

She snorts. “We share a room now, dumbass.”

Right, we do. The spare room’s just a glorified guest room these days—though Wes once joked he’d rather burn it down than subject another poor, unsuspecting soul to living with us. Said it with a shake of his head and a smile that almost looked fond.

I glance down at her, this girl who used to flinch when I got too close and now steals the covers at night. And I think about how none of this was ever the plan—not for me, not for her—but somehow, it feels exactly like where we were supposed to end up.

“Still counts,” I murmur. “Technically.”

The charged silence that falls between us isn’t heavy. It’s full—of everything we’ve built, of everything we risked, of everything we chose.

She leans against the bar again, close enough that our arms brush.

From behind us, Loretta lets out a high-pitched squeal, and Savannah coos, “Tell Uncle Gabe to stop flirting and come hold you, huh?”

Sage’s head tilts, amused. “Uncle Gabe, huh?”

“I’m part of the family now,” I say, bumping her shoulder. “Better get used to it.”

She hums like she’s considering it, but her smile is already giving her away.

And honestly?

I hope I never stop earning it.