Page 123 of The Long Way Home
“Oooh, the last name, very clever. Two can play at that, Westbrook.”
I get dealt my cards, trying to focus on the game, but the hum of their voices blends with the thump of my racing heart every time Rhett glances my way.
Wes leans in, nudging me playfully. “You’re quiet, Rach. Cat got your tongue?”
I force a smile. “Just trying not to lose all my money tonight.”
Rhett raises an eyebrow, eyes never leaving mine. “You have one hell of a poker face, Sunny.”
I blink, then quickly glance down at my hand. Connor grins and throws down a card. “Come on, Rachel, you’re up.”
I place my card and glance at Lexi, whose turn is next, but she’s completely checked out, phone in hand, scrolling like the game doesn’t exist.
Slone rolls her eyes. “Put the phone down, Lexi. We’re playing cards, not scrolling Instagram.”
Lexi groans, waving her phone. “For the record, I’m reviewing a Motion for Continuance for the trial I have when I get back. But honestly? The Wi-Fi here sucks anyway. I’m doomed either way.”
Anderson pipes up from across the table, eyes on Wes. “Speaking of doomed, are you ever moving to Atlanta, or is this back-and-forth thing your full-time hobby?”
“You guys, we’re losing the plot,” Connor announces. “Rhett, it’s your turn.”
The game continues, full of jokes and the kind of easy back-and-forth that almost makes me forget the tight coil of nerves in my chest. But every so often, Rhett’s gaze finds mine, and the bundle of tension snaps right back into place.
By eleven, the group starts to wind down.
Connor rubs a hand over his temple. “Alright, I’m out. Head’s killing me, and I don’t want it affecting me tomorrow,” he mutters, already halfway to the stairs.
Fifteen minutes later, Wes stretches with a loud, theatrical yawn. “That’s it. I’m done playing bartender and therapist for you degenerates.”
“Thank God. I’m not sure the advice you were giving was solid,” Lexi mutters, grinning.
“Solitude is calling my name,” Wes announces, scooping up a half-empty bag of trail mix and a blanket. He throws a lazy salute over his shoulder. “Sleep tight—and don’t text your ex, Lex.”
“Goodnight, Wes,” Slone laughs.
Margo nudges Anderson’s arm. “Come on. If we stay, you’re gonna start offering unsolicited stock advice.”
“I only do that when people really need to hear it.” Anderson stands with a quiet laugh.
Margo rolls her eyes, giggles, hooks a finger in his belt loop, and pulls him down the hallway.
“Okay, Trouble,” he whispers.
“Night, everyone,” she calls over her shoulder, barely glancing back. They’re disgustingly cute.
The room settles. Slone and Lexi curl into opposite corners of the couch, voices low, laughter slowing until it fades completely.
Slone stretches, reluctant. “Alright. I should probably crash before I end up stuck here all night.”
Lexi hugs herself. “Same. That weird in-between tired—either I fall asleep in ten seconds, or I’m online until three.”
They slip down the hall, footsteps soft.
And then it’s just me and Rhett.
He is sprawled on the couch, legs stretched out, one ankle hooked over the other, hands loosely clasped in his lap, like he has nowhere else to be. I don’t stay near him. I turn and drift into the kitchen instead, stacking empty glasses on the counter. And once that’s complete I start wiping at a spill that isn’t there. Anything but facing him.
I feel his attention before I hear him move, a quiet weight crawling up my spine, prickling across my skin.
