Chapter 26 #2
I glance toward the grill again, where Crosby is laughing at whatever Arch said. The sight of him produces so many emotions—comforting me and unraveling me all at once.
“And now I don’t know if that’s true anymore,” I admit. “Not entirely.”
Birdie’s brows lift a touch, but she doesn’t look surprised.
“I keep telling myself I can hold both,” I continue. “That I can be professional and still feel… this.” I gesture vaguely between my chest and Crosby. “But what if I can’t? What if something happens where the film and Crosby are suddenly at odds?”
My fingers tighten around the stem of my glass. “I used to be so sure I’d always choose the story. Now…” I swallow. “Now I’m wondering if that choice would even be possible.”
Birdie studies me, her expression thoughtful rather than alarmed. “I think that says a lot about how you feel about my brother.”
I nod. “I’ve caught myself thinking that if it ever came down to it—if my being attached to the project started to hurt him or change what this is—I could walk away. They could bring in someone else and finish it without me.”
But saying that out loud feels terrifying, not a situation I want to find myself in. It’s a sacrifice I don’t want to have to make if it can be avoided.
Birdie doesn’t answer right away. She takes a sip of her wine, eyes flicking briefly to her brother before returning to me. “Okay,” she says finally. “First of all, you’re allowed to feel conflicted. That doesn’t make you reckless or unprofessional. It makes you human.”
I huff out a soft laugh. “Dangerous territory for me.”
She smiles faintly. “Yeah, I’ve noticed.” Then her tone shifts—still warm, but firmer. “Second, I don’t think you need to solve this right now. You’re not at the point of choosing anything yet.”
“And hopefully I’ll never have to,” I say.
Birdie leans in. “My brother is a grown man. He knows what he signed up for, and you didn’t get this far by running every time things got complicated.”
I consider that, letting it settle.
“Take it one day at a time,” Birdie continues. “Do the work with integrity. Be honest—with yourself and with him. If a line ever actually gets crossed, you’ll know, and then you decide.” She lifts her glass in a small, decisive gesture. “But don’t preemptively burn it down out of fear.”
Yeah… that’s very good advice.
Across the deck, Crosby looks over at us, his gaze finding mine. He smiles—uncomplicated, open.
I lift my glass back toward Birdie. “One day at a time,” I echo.
She clinks her glass gently against mine. “Exactly.”
“So,” Arch says, turning from the grill, “what’s everyone dressing up as tomorrow?”
Across the deck, Crosby closes the grill lid with a decisive clang. “Juno and I are going as Neo and Trinity.”
Arch lets out a low whistle. “No one will be able to deny you two are a couple now.”
Crosby and I share a smile. We had decided to do it once the invitation from the Wildfire Family Collective—Cherry—went out to the entire team.
While Crosby wasn’t excited about it, he decided it was important to go for team unity.
There was no question I was going because while we’re dressing as a couple, I will be working, as this is exactly the behind-the-scenes stuff viewers will want to see.
Birdie’s mouth curves. “Clean. Iconic. Black leather solves everything.”
“We found some long leather coats at a thrift store. The glasses were a little harder, but thank God for .” I lift my chin at Arch. “And you?”
He straightens, flexes his muscles. “Thor.”
Birdie snorts. “Typical.”
“Full hammer,” he adds, waggling his eyebrows. “Yes, I will be the hottest thing there.” He then asks Birdie, “Are you going?”
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Birdie lifts her glass. “I’ll be joining you all as Catwoman.”
Arch nudges Evan. “What about you, big man?”
Evan smirks. “I’m going as a documentary filmmaker, meaning I’m dressing comfortable in my normal clothes since I’m working.”
I shake my head, laughing softly. “You’re going to be surrounded by superheroes and villains and you’re going to show up in black jeans like it’s a Tuesday.”
“Exactly.”
My gaze drifts back to Crosby, who’s watching the exchange with quiet amusement, arms crossed loosely over his chest. I can already picture it—the house full, music low, people everywhere, and us in matching costumes.
At Cherry and Miller’s house.
That part alone feels loaded.
According to Crosby, Cherry’s already sent out no fewer than four reminder texts. One with the official invitation, one with parking instructions, one with a theme clarification, and one with rules.
Rules.
No duplicate costumes.
No “provocative interpretations.”
No fairy-tale characters—because she and Miller are already doing Rapunzel and Flynn Rider.
“She really put that in writing,” I’d said when Crosby told me.
“She really did,” he’d replied, deadpan.
This will be interesting… the first time Crosby and I show up somewhere together without pretending we’re only friends. He thinks the team already suspects we’re more, and I think he’s right. Arch had told him it’s written all over our faces whenever we’re together.
Still, it’s far different choosing to step into it openly, and there’s going to be lots of questions.
Crosby catches me watching him and lifts one brow. A silent question. You okay?
I smile back, small but sure. I’m good.
Yeah. I’m good and looking forward to the party. Even if part of me knows that once we walk through that door together, things won’t be quite so easy anymore.
But for now—here, under the string lights, with the chill held at bay and his presence steady at my side—it’s totally worth it.