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Rain taps softly against the windows of my apartment while Amani kneels on the carpet in front of the coffee table, tongue caught between her teeth in concentration as she opens another game box.
“You shuffled the UNO deck wrong, by the way,” Lucas complains from the couch, legs spread wide and a beer balanced against his thigh. “That’s why Adrian won twice.”
“That’s not how cards work,” Amani says without even looking up.
“It absolutely is.”
I snort quietly from the kitchen island as I pour chips into bowls. “You lost because you have the attention span of a goldfish.”
Lucas points at me dramatically. “See? This is why I drink. I’m being bullied in your sacred apartment we’re never allowed to visit.”
My eyes flick toward him. “You’re here now, aren’t you?”
“And being emotionally abused while doing it.”
Amani laughs under her breath, finally pulling the plastic wrap off the second game. “Honestly? You kind of deserve it.”
The apartment feels different tonight. It’s louder than I’m used to, surprisingly warm, and I don’t hate it as much as I thought I would.
A month ago, the idea of inviting people into my space would’ve irritated me enough to cancel halfway through planning it—if planning it at all—but now Lucas is half hanging off my couch, Amani’s curled up on the floor in fuzzy socks, and the low buzz of conversation folds strangely easy into the room.
Maybe Dante ruined me.
Or maybe this is what happens when someone crawls into your life and rearranges the furniture in your head without permission.
I grab the bowl and move back toward the living room.
“I haven’t won a single game tonight,” Lucas expresses. “This next one is mine. I can feel it.”
“The next one is a drinking game,” I reply, setting the bowl down onto the table.
Lucas straightens immediately. “Perfect. Then I’ll simply drink both of you under the table.”
Amani bursts out laughing. “Lucas, you threw up in an Uber once after four tequila shots.”
“That driver was going too fast.”
“He was parked,” I spit back, sitting down on the armchair across from them, one ankle resting over my knee as I watch her finish setting up the game pieces.
Outside, thunder rolls softly somewhere far away as the rain starts to clear for the first time tonight.
I lean back deeper into the chair, phone heavy in my pocket.
I check it, despite knowing I won’t be getting any messages from Dante.
A strange itch sits under my skin because of it, dull and constant, scratching at the inside of my ribs all day. I already know why he’s gone silent. I understand, obviously, but still, it doesn’t make my skin crawl any less.
Lucas throws the last of his drink down his throat before leaning toward me with a grin. “Seriously though,” he says, quieter this time. “Thanks for this.”
I glance at him.
“For what?”
“For letting us come here.” His expression softens in a way that almost looks sincere. “You never let people into your space.”
Amani nods gently. “It’s nice.”
I hum once, taking a sip from my drink.
