Page 57 of What We Don't Say: Part One

I hold the phone carefully.

Garrett gives me the code, then lets me unlock it myself. The contact list is already open. His name is at the top, followed by Sloane, Idris, Callie, Miller, and the Bellwether emergency line. I look at Callie’s name for longer than the others, my thumb hovering above it.

“It’s on the household plan,” Garrett says. “The passcode is written on the card tucked inside the case, so no one has to guess if it locks you out. If anything acts up, bring it to me.”

I nod, but I don’t press Callie’s name yet.

A door opens at the front of the house, and I jolt so hard the phone almost slips from my hand. Garrett’s arm closes around me before I can scramble off his lap.

“That will be Sloane,” he says.

I listen. Keys land in the bowl near the door. Shoes stop on the mat. A grocery bag rustles, then goes still as Sloane catches our scents and follows them down the hall.

He appears in the doorway with rain in his hair and a paper bag in one hand. His eyes find me in Garrett’s lap, then the phone in my hand, then Garrett’s arm around my back. Hedoesn't look upset. He looks like something in him has gone soft too fast for him to cover it.

“Hi,” Sloane says.

I look down at the phone, open his name, and type before the words can get trapped anywhere else.

You didn’t have to leave.

Sloane’s phone chimes in his pocket.

He sets the grocery bag down before he takes the phone out, and the care he uses with that ordinary movement makes my fingers tighten around my own screen. He reads the message. His mouth curves slowly, but his eyes stay serious when he looks back at me.

“I’m going to like this,” he says.

Garrett’s hand stays between my shoulders. "Don't overwhelm him with it.”

Sloane nods, still looking at me. “I won’t. I like that he can reach me.”

The warmth in my chest shifts. It doesn't feel like the heat pressure now. It feels like something opening where the quiet had been too large.

Sloane steps into the study and lowers himself beside Garrett’s chair instead of coming over me. “Idris is at Blackline for another hour. Callie’s probably still finishing things at the school. She told me she had papers to sort before Monday.”

I nod. Hearing Callie’s name helps. Hearing that she said where she would be helps more, even if she didn't say it to me yet.

Sloane glances at the phone in my hands. “You can text her when you’re ready.”

I nod again, but the thought of doing it while both Alphas watch makes my skin prickle. Sloane seems to understand, or maybe he just knows how to wait when he remembers to try.

I reach for him instead.

His gaze drops to my hand, and his body goes very still. He looks at Garrett first. Garrett gives the smallest nod, then shifts his arm so I have room to lean without feeling released.

“Color?” Sloane asks.

I tap once against the phone.

“Green,” he says.

Sloane comes closer on his knees, slow enough that every inch gives me time to change my mind. He touches my cheek first. His hand is warmer than Garrett’s, restless even when he's trying hard to hold still. The scent of him fills the space between us, smoked cedar and brown sugar, and my body answers with another wave of heat that makes my breath catch.

“I know,” Sloane murmurs. “I’ve got you.”

He kisses me.

Sloane’s careful has effort in it. I feel the strength he's holding back in the tension of his hand, in the way he keeps the first press of his mouth soft even though his scent flares as soon as I lean in. Garrett stays steady beneath me, one hand at my back while Sloane’s mouth warms mine, and the two of them together make the room feel full without making it too full.