Page 91 of Bend

I listen, but somewhere between bike inspections and arrival schedules, my brain catches up to one very important detail.

I’m going to fucking Ireland.

Well.

Ireland-adjacent.

Whatever.

I’ve barely had time to process Tampa and now apparently we’re crossing an ocean.

I glance over at Wolfe.

He catches my eye and smiles.

I mouth, Ireland.

His grin widens.

Behind him, Thorne is looking down at the paperwork Andre gave him, but something about his expression has changed since he walked in.

He looks lighter.

Not fixed.

Just less shut down.

Maybe I’m projecting because of what Wolfe told me this morning.

Maybe I’m hoping.

Either way, I’m suddenly thinking about that conversation on the beach again.

Don’t give up on him.

I meant it.

Wolfe cares about Thorne so fucking much it practically hangs off him, and Thorne can pretend all he wants, but I’ve seen the way he looks at Wolfe when he thinks nobody notices.

Those two are going to kill me.

Assuming Draygon doesn’t get there first.

I glance beside me.

He’s already watching me.

Of course.

His eyebrow lifts.

I shake my head once.

Later.

The corner of his mouth moves like he understands anyway.

Fantastic.