Page 57 of After the Snap

“Perfect.”

I make the change, but when I reach for the event sheet again, I catch myself wondering who’s next. I didn’t decide to stay, but I’ve stopped trying to leave. The door opens behind me before I can figure out what to do with that.

“Duvall, tell Tuck he can’t claim a tax deduction for volunteering.” Easton chuckles, shoving Tuck in the shoulder over my head.

My head pops up at his name, my stomach tightening so quickly that the reaction almost irritates me. Five minutes ago, I was comfortable enough to forget I’d spent years keeping this place at a distance, and now all it takes is knowing Jubal and I are in the same room for my body to remember an entirely different version of myself.

His hair is still damp from the shower, the ends curling slightly against his forehead, and he’s changed into gray sweats and a black Valor T-shirt that fits across his shoulders well enough to bring back the memory of what they looked like without it. Then my gaze catches on the chain disappearing beneath his collar. I’ve seen it on him twice now, but knowing why he started wearing it doesn’t stop my brain from wondering what the thin metal would feel like against my skin if he leaned over me.

Heat crawls up my neck as my thumb finds Mom’s ring, and his eyes follow the motion. I should look away when his gaze lingers on the amethyst before returning to me, but I can’t, suddenly too aware of how many people are sitting around us with no idea why a bare chain and a ring can turn an ordinary look into something that feels private.

“Hey, Pea.”

Easton’s head turns toward me so fast I feel it before I see it. “Pea?”

There’s enough delight in his voice to make me regret every decision that led to this moment, but I keep my eyes on Tuck’s phone instead of giving him the reaction he’s looking for.

“Don’t.”

“I didn’t do anything. I was just wondering when you became Pea.”

“I didn’t.”

“He seems to disagree.”

Easton’s eyebrows climb as he points across the table toward Jubal, his smile disappearing behind the bottle of water he lifts to his mouth, but not before I catch it. Fucking traitor.

“It’s because she’s tiny,” Jubal chimes in, not helping the situation in the slightest. “It made sense at the time.”

Easton looks between us. “What time?”

My pulse jumps at how close Easton just came to Houston, but Jubal doesn’t so much as blink.

“Yesterday.”

The two of them stare at each other in complete silence as I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling. Jubal doesn’t scramble to explain himself or fill the silence just because Easton wants him to, giving him the only answer he’s willing to give and leaving Easton to decide what to do with the rest. Apparently, he decides to annoy me.

“Pea,” he tries, testing the word.

“No.”

“But Duvall⁠—”

“Duvall has permission.”

I realize how that sounds a second too late. Easton’s eyebrows shoot up as his gaze flicks from me to Jubal, and the slow way Jubal lowers his water bottle tells me he caught exactly what I said. Heat rushes to my face as Easton’s mouth curves, because I couldn’t have chosen literally any other word.

I point at him before he can turn that grin into a question. “If you start, I will change every community event on your calendar to elementary-school fun runs.”

His grin only gets worse. “So it’s his nickname.”

“It’s a stupid nickname.”

“His stupid nickname.”

I stare at him, contemplating how hard it would be for Dad to replace one of his star players this close to the start of the season. Easton must sense my murderous intentions because instead of pushing further, he holds up both hands.

“Understood.”