Chapter 24 #2
But Milo was already studying her with that careful attention he brought to everything, the same focus he used when determining if a soufflé would fall or if someone needed feeding.
I saw him catalogue the tension in her shoulders, the way she kept refreshing the same screen over and over, the barely-there bags under her eyes that her concealer couldn't quite hide.
"When did you last eat something?" he asked, his voice carrying that gentle authority that made people confess their dietary sins.
"I had coffee. And a protein bar. This morning."
"That's not food, that's survival rations." He was already heading to the kitchen, his Alpha instincts clearly pinging at the sight of someone not properly cared for. "I'm making dinner. Real dinner. You're staying."
"I have three client calls tonight and a contract review that absolutely cannot wait—"
"Stay," Nova said, using his Alpha voice without seeming to realize it, the command carrying enough authority to make even me straighten slightly. "We're having a family dinner. Non-negotiable."
Michelle looked ready to argue, her mouth opening to deliver what was probably a perfectly crafted refusal, then deflated like someone had pulled her plug. "Fine. But I'm reviewing contracts while you cook. Multitasking is still allowed, right?"
She pulled up her tablet again, but I caught her sneaking glances at her phone, where Cozy Luke's stream still played in a tiny window, muted but present.
The wistfulness was back, that look of someone watching others have what they'd convinced themselves they couldn't want, couldn't afford, couldn't risk.
"Hey Michelle?" I said, an idea forming with the kind of crystalline clarity that meant it was either brilliant or catastrophic.
"That twelve percent audience overlap you mentioned.
Maybe we should consider a collaboration.
With Luke, I mean. Could be good for both our metrics, expand into the cozy gaming space. "
Her hands stilled on the tablet, her entire body going carefully motionless in the way that meant I'd hit something important. "That's... I'd have to talk to him about it. Professionally. To gauge his interest in cross-platform content."
"You should," Ghost said quietly from where he'd been silently organizing his streaming cables, surprising everyone.
We all turned to stare at him, and he shrugged, looking slightly embarrassed at the attention.
"He seems... stable. Good metrics, consistent content, positive community. Safe collaboration partner."
Michelle looked between us, and I saw the exact moment she realized we knew. Not everything, but enough. Her scent shifted again, defensive spikes mixing with something that might have been hope if she let herself acknowledge it.
"I'll consider it," she said carefully, her voice taking on that measured tone she used in contract negotiations. "For professional reasons. Brand synergy and market expansion."
"Of course," I agreed, catching Nova's eye across the room. He nodded slightly, his expression shifting into what I privately called his 'plotting face'. It was the same look he got when he was engineering business deals that somehow benefited everyone involved.
As Milo called us all to dinner, his voice carried the warm authority of someone who considered feeding people a love language, I watched Michelle tuck her phone away. But not before taking one last glance at the stream, her expression unguarded for just a moment.
The longing in her face made my chest ache with recognition. I knew that feeling, the war between want and fear, between hard-won independence and the terrible hope that maybe, possibly, you could have both without losing yourself in the process.
She'd helped me navigate that journey, had held my hand through panic attacks and contract negotiations and the terrifying vulnerability of letting people close. Maybe it was time we returned the favor.
"Pass the salt," she said at dinner, her professional mask firmly back in place as she critiqued Milo's garlic bread technique and tried to negotiate a lower carb count for the pasta.
But I'd seen beneath it now. And judging by the thoughtful looks from my pack, the way they were all paying just a little too much attention to her phone habits and the careful way she never quite met anyone's eyes when they asked about her personal life, they had too.
Michelle deserved her own chance at happiness. And if that happened to involve a certain cozy streamer with a soothing voice and what looked like genuinely kind eyes, well... we were very good at engineering "accidents" and "coincidental" meetings.
I pulled out my phone under the table and typed a quick message to Nova.
We're setting them up.
His response was immediate.
Already drafting the collaboration proposal. Leave it to me.
Across the table, Michelle laughed at something Crash said about turnip economics, looking more relaxed than she had in weeks, her shoulders finally dropping from their default position around her ears.
She had no idea what was coming, had no clue that she'd just acquired five very determined matchmakers who considered her family.
Perfect.