Page 55 of Trade It All

The door shuts behind us with a soft click, and suddenly everything feels smaller. Contained. Just the two of us.

“Okay, spill.” She sits on the edge of the bed and pulls me down with her, her eyes already scanning my face, my posture, every little thing like she’s trying to piece it together before I even start talking.

I take a breath. And then I tell her. Not everything. Not about Dean. But Tyler. The note. The boxes. The way it felt walking into my apartment and knowing he’d been there, touchingthings that weren’t his, making decisions that weren’t his to make.

Addy’s expression darkens the longer I talk, her jaw tightening, her fingers curling into the comforter beneath us like she’s holding onto something she’d rather throw.

“I don’t care about that asshole,” she cuts in the second I pause for air, her voice sharp in a way that makes it clear she means it. “He’s going to get what he deserves. Eventually.”

There’s no doubt in it. No hesitation. And coming from her—I believe it.

Her eyes lock onto mine again, sharper now, more focused. “I wanna know about you and Dean.”

My stomach flips. Not violently. Just enough to remind me that everything I didn’t say is still sitting right there, waiting to be acknowledged.

“There’s nothing to tell,” I say, too quickly, my gaze dropping for half a second before I force it back up. “I needed somewhere to go. He offered.”

The words sound flat even to me. Like they don’t match what I felt. Like they don’t even come close. Addy just stares at me.

Then she rolls her eyes.

“Fine,” she says, drawing the word out like she doesn’t believe me for a second. “I’ll drop it…” A beat. “…for now.”

There’s a warning in it. A promise.

And somehow—that feels easier to deal with than actually answering her.

Chapter 26

Dean

ThesecondIpullaway from Luka’s driveway, the silence hits different. Not empty. Not loud. Just…wrong. Like something that was there a second ago isn’t anymore, and my body hasn’t caught up to the fact that I chose to leave it behind.

Her.

My grip tightens on the wheel without thinking, my eyes flicking once to the rearview mirror even though I know she’s already inside, already where she’s safe, already where I told myself she needed to be. I still don’t like it. Not even a little. I let out a slow breath, forcing it down, forcing everything that wants to turn this truck around and go back to her into something I can actually control. This is what she asked for. Space. Time. A way to figure this out without the world getting a front row seat. I meant what I said. So I drive.

The city shifts around me without much thought, muscle memory taking over as I head toward the Reserve, the familiar route grounding in a way I need right now. It gives my head something else to focus on besides the way she felt against me, the way she looked when she told me she needed me, the way she walked into Luka’s house like she belonged there just as much as she does with me.

My jaw tightens at that. Because she does. She belongs with me. That thought settles in deep, not loud, not aggressive—just certain in a way I don’t question anymore. The parking lot is already half full when I pull in, the low hum of conversation and music bleeding out the second I step inside. It’s the same as it always is—polished, controlled, exactly the kind of place we built this whole thing around.

And the second I walk in—they’re on me.

“Well, look who finally showed up,” Nathan calls out, leaning back in his chair like he’s been waiting for this moment. “Took you long enough.” Coleman doesn’t even try to hide the smirk. “You made me owe Harvey twenty bucks,” he adds, lifting his glass slightly like he’s already celebrating it.

I huff out a breath, sliding into the empty chair without rushing it, letting their noise settle over me like something familiar I can step into without thinking too hard about anything else.

“Didn’t know there was a betting pool,” I mutter, reaching for the drink already sitting in front of me like someone knew I’d need it.

“You weren’t supposed to,” Nathan says, completely unbothered. “You were the bet.”

That gets a small laugh out of Langston, who’s already shaking his head like this is exactly the kind of thing he expected. I take a sip, letting it burn just enough to take the edge off without dulling anything important.

“How are the girls?” I ask Coleman, shifting it easily, not giving them anything else to latch onto.

His expression softens immediately, like it always does when they come up.

“Good,” he says, leaning forward slightly. “Remi’s got them convinced glitter is a personality trait now, so that’s fun.”