Chapter 25
EM
Holy shit.
Noah played like a beast. I couldn’t take my eyes off him the entire game.
He played furiously and brilliantly. My face warmed, thinking about our text exchange and the fact he’d come home tonight.
Yeah, his other weird text asking us to stay inside bothered me, but he’d explain later.
It had to do with his parents, that was my guess, but that didn’t take away the pride and attraction I had watching him be a beast on the field.
“My dude is stacked,” Daniel leaned back on the couch, grinning as he pointed at the TV. “I cannot believe I’m in his apartment. Unreal.”
“You’ve been here all day,” I rolled my eyes at my brother, even though I was smiling.
He’d spent at least an hour doing a full lap of the place earlier—opening cabinets, commenting on the fridge, staring at framed photos like they were museum pieces.
Miles thought it was hilarious and immediately decided Daniel was his new favorite person.
Daniel and Miles had been inseparable since the moment Daniel walked in.
They built a pillow fort that somehow took over half the living room, played an aggressively competitive game of Go Fish, and then migrated to the floor to watch the game, sprawled out like they owned the place.
Daniel narrated plays with dramatic flair while Miles repeated the words “pocket” and “block” like they were magic spells.
When the final whistle blew, Miles cheered even though he didn’t fully understand why, then promptly passed out sideways against Daniel’s leg. Daniel froze in place like moving might break a spell. “Do I… breathe?” he whispered.
“You’re stuck,” I told him quietly. “Congratulations.”
Once Miles was settled on the couch with Sassy tucked against his feet, the apartment shifted into a quieter rhythm.
The game highlights replayed on mute while Daniel and I moved to the table, my laptop already open, tabs multiplying faster than my ability to keep track of them.
The adrenaline from the game hadn’t worn off yet, and neither had the buzz of panic sitting under it.
“I’m not gonna sugarcoat this,” Daniel said, pulling the laptop closer and scanning the numbers. “This is a lot. Like… a lot a lot.”
“I know,” I said, rubbing my forehead. “I’m trying not to freak out, but I’m also very much freaking out.”
He started doing math out loud, tapping numbers into his phone, scribbling notes on the back of an envelope.
“Okay, so even if we lowball your margins and assume materials and labor eat more than they should, you’re still netting—” He paused, looked up at me, then back down. “Em. This is real money.”
My stomach flipped. “How real?”
“Real enough that Dad’s ‘get a real job’ speech officially doesn’t apply,” he said flatly. “Real enough that you need to stop thinking like this is a side thing and start thinking infrastructure and long term.”
I let that sink in, my fingers curling around my mug. Infrastructure sounded big. Scary. Permanent.
“We need to triage,” Daniel continued, already in problem-solving mode. “First, you cap orders temporarily so you don’t die. Then we outsource parts of production—cutting, base assembly—stuff you don’t need to personally touch for quality control.”
I nodded slowly, following his logic. “I can still do the finishing work. The details. That’s what people care about.”
“Exactly,” he said. “You don’t scale by burning yourself out. You scale by protecting what makes it yours. God, you’re lucky I’m a business major and love numbers.”
“Yes, so lucky. So grateful,” I deadpanned.
“Hey, I’m your favorite sibling. Be nicer to me.”
I snorted, relieved at the joke because this was serious. I stared at the screen again, the numbers feeling heavier now that they’d been said out loud. This wasn’t validation. This was responsibility.
“And insurance,” Daniel added. “You need it. Business insurance. Liability. Probably an LLC. I can help you look into it this week.”
I laughed weakly. “Since when do you know about this stuff?”
He shrugged. “Since watching you hustle babysitting my entire childhood and realizing no one ever had your back the way they should’ve. I know we tease, but a huge reason I want to major in business is because of you.”
That hit harder than I expected. I swallowed and nodded, not trusting myself to respond right away. My throat ached, and I wanted to yank my brother against me and not let him go. I didn’t though and took a deep breath.
By the time we finished sketching out a rough plan—materials list, timeline, who we could rope into helping—my phone buzzed on the table. Noah’s name lit up the screen, and my heart did that stupid, traitorous thing again.
Noah: Be home in ten.
“Showtime,” Daniel said, smirking. “I’m gonna pretend I’m normal about this.”
I snorted, standing up as I glanced toward the door. The anxiety, the excitement, the relief—all of it tangled together. He was coming home. To me.
The door hadn’t even fully shut behind him before Daniel made a strangled noise that sounded like awe and disbelief wrapped together.
Kinda sounded like a cat, and I couldn’t stop my laugh.
Noah barely had time to drop his duffel before my brother was on his feet, eyes wide, posture suddenly rigid like he was meeting a celebrity instead of the man whose socks he’d tripped over earlier.
“Oh my god,” Daniel blurted out. “You’re real. You’re actually real. I mean, I knew that, obviously, but this is different. This is in-the-flesh, post-game, beast-mode Noah Abbott.”
Noah blinked once, clearly exhausted, then laughed, the sound rough but genuine. “Hey, man,” he said, holding up a hand. “You must be Daniel.”
Daniel nodded way too fast. “Yes. Yes, I am. Big fan. Huge fan. Also, thank you for letting me exist in your apartment today. I did not touch anything important. Probably.”
Noah grinned, shoulders loosening a bit. “You’re welcome here,” he said easily. “Em’s family is my family.”
That sentence hit me square in the chest, sharp and warm all at once, but before I could even process it, Noah’s gaze shifted past Daniel. His eyes locked onto the couch.
Miles.
The change in him was immediate. His posture softened, urgency replacing everything else as he crossed the room in three long strides. He dropped to his knees in front of the couch, hands already reaching out.
“Hey, buddy,” he murmured, brushing a hand through Miles’s hair. “I’m home.”
Miles stirred, eyes blinking open, then widened when he registered who was in front of him. “Uncle Noah!” He launched himself forward, arms wrapping around Noah’s neck with full force. “You won!”
Noah hugged him tight, eyes closing as he pressed his face into Miles’s shoulder. His shoulders sagged, the tension draining out of him. My stomach churned about his text earlier. Something had to happen for him to be this worried.
“I did,” he said quietly. “And you were safe the whole time?”
Miles nodded enthusiastically. “Ms. Em and Daniel were here. And Sassy. And we watched you. You were awesome.”
Noah laughed softly, pulling back enough to look at him. “That’s all I needed to hear.”
Only then did he stand, turning toward me. The look on his face shifted again—still tired, still raw, but now something else layered underneath. Relief. Concern. Something close to awe.
I didn’t wait for him to close the distance.
He wrapped his arms around me the second we met, pulling me flush against his chest, his chin resting on the top of my head. His hands pressed firmly into my back, almost to the point of pain.
He exhaled, long and shakily, and held me a second longer before easing back. His hands slid up to cup my face, thumbs brushing under my eyes like he was checking for damage.
“I’m so sorry,” he said. “I should’ve called or explained. I didn’t mean to worry you.”
“You didn’t,” I said, even though that wasn’t entirely true. “I trusted you’d explain when you could.”
His eyes flicked to Daniel, who had politely pretended to be deeply invested in reorganizing the takeout containers. “Thank you,” Noah said sincerely. “For being here.”
Daniel straightened immediately. “Of course. Also, we have a business plan now. Like, a real one. Em is killing it.”
Noah’s brows lifted, surprise cutting through his exhaustion. “Yeah?”
I smiled despite myself. “I’ll tell you later.”
“Good,” he said, brushing a thumb along my jaw. “I want to hear all of it.”
Miles yawned loudly, collapsing back onto the couch. “I’m tired,” he announced, already halfway asleep again.
Noah chuckled and scooped him up without effort. “Let’s get you to bed.”
Watching him carry Miles down the hall, gentle and careful despite his size, settled something in my chest. When he came back out, Daniel gave me a look that said yeah, okay, I get it now.
“I’m gonna crash,” Daniel said, grabbing his bag. “Oh my god. Is it okay if I crash here? I didn’t have a backup plan and assumed, but Em, did you ask if I could?”
Noah laughed, shaking his head. “Daniel, you can sleep here. I have an air mattress you can use if the couch doesn’t work.”
“Couch is perfect. Perfection.” Daniel gulped, closing his eyes as he shook his head. “Punch me, Em. I’m making a fool of myself.”
“Yeah, it’s really entertaining for me so not gonna stop you.”
Daniel groaned, earning another laugh from me, and I smiled, glancing toward Noah, who stared at me with an intense, almost reverent expression. My stomach fluttered at that look, and my tongue wet my lip when I stared down at my shirt.
It was his jersey.
“You need anything Daniel? I gotta chat with Noah for a bit.”
“Chat? Sure, sure. I’ll put my headphones on. Go chat all you want.”
Noah didn’t let me respond. He tugged the hem of my shirt and dragged me toward the hallway. “Now,” he whispered, pushing me up against the his bedroom wall and pressing his hips against mine. “I need to kiss you now.”