Chapter 17
TALON
The knock came exactly at six.
I’d been ready since five-thirty, though I’d never admit that to another living soul.
The takeout on the counter was still warm, and I’d already checked the fish tank three times.
Which was stupid—she was just a fish. A very small, very unbothered fish, currently gliding in lazy circles through the big built-in tank that took up half the wall in my living room.
I wiped my palms on my jeans as I crossed the room and opened the door.
Livvi stood there, a hesitant smile on her lips. “Hey.” Her voice was warm and soft.
“Hey.” I stepped back to let her in, shoving one hand into my pocket to keep from doing something dumb like reaching out to hug her.
The other part of me, the part that didn’t care about keeping it “cool,” wanted to just grab her hand, brush a strand of hair from her face—anything.
The more time I spent near her, the harder it became to hold back.
Every glance, every laugh, made me want to cross that line even more.
She toed off her shoes and wandered straight to the tank, peering inside. “She’s still alive.” Her tone was somewhere between triumphant and relieved.
“Just like I said.” I leaned against the back of the couch.
She glanced over her shoulder at me, her smile causing my pulse to quicken, and for a second, the room felt warmer.
“She looks happy,” Livvi said. “Guess that means we have to do our part and give her a name.”
I jerked my chin toward the counter. “I got the takeout ready. Figured naming ceremonies go better on a full stomach.”
Her lips curved, and she crossed the room to peek into the bag. “Chinese?”
“Yep.” I grabbed plates from the cabinet, glad to have something to do with my hands.
She started unpacking cartons, moving like she’d been in my kitchen a dozen times before. Somehow, that didn’t bother me. In fact, it felt … nice.
We settled at the little table by the window, cartons and chopsticks spread between us. Livvi cracked open an egg roll and hummed like she’d just been handed a winning lottery ticket.
“Okay.” She pointed her chopsticks at me. “Ground rules. No boring names like Blue or Fishy.”
I smirked. “You think I’d go boring?”
She grinned over the rim of her takeout box. “Honestly? No. I’m more worried you’ll pick something so out there that you would have to explain it to everyone.”
I chuckled, settling back against my chair. “So, no boring names, but nothing that requires a lengthy explanation?”
“Exactly.” She gave a satisfied nod. “Something fun. Fitting. But not … I don’t know …” Her nose wrinkled. “Like naming her after a Marvel villain just because you think it’s funny.”
“That’s oddly specific,” I said, amused.
She laughed, picking up a piece of chicken. “I just know your type. You’re going to go full drama with this. Something like Ursula or Medusa.”
“Medusa’s not bad.” I shrugged, trying not to smile. “She’s got attitude.”
“She’s also known for turning people to stone,” Livvi pointed out. “Not exactly a compliment.”
I tipped my head toward the tank. “Look at her. You can’t tell me she doesn’t have a little femme fatale energy.”
Livvi snorted. “She swam face-first into the fake coral five minutes ago. Femme fatale might be a stretch.”
“I’m still saying Medusa,” I said before taking a bite.
“You’re saying it because you want to win,” she teased.
I grinned up at her. “Obviously. What’s your idea then?”
“Something clever but not too obvious. Something you’d be happy to yell across a room.” Her chin tilted thoughtfully. “Like Beyoncé.”
I straightened and shot her a look. “You want to name my fish Beyoncé?”
“She’s a queen. It makes sense.”
“That’s a lot of pressure for a fish,” I said, but I was grinning now.
“Fine.” She tapped her chin with her chopsticks. “Maybe something a little sillier. What about Blue Ivy?”
I groaned. “Still Beyoncé-adjacent.”
She grinned. “Exactly. It’s clever.”
I shook my head. “If we’re going pop culture, I’m still voting Sharkira.”
She groaned, burying her face in her hands. “You’re not serious.”
“Dead serious.”
“You can’t name a fish Sharkira.”
“Why not?” I leaned back in my chair, enjoying this more than I probably should have. “She’s got hips that don’t lie.”
Livvi’s laughter rang through the apartment, and something loosened in my chest. Something that had been wound tight for way too long.
“Okay, okay,” she said, still giggling. “We’ll put Sharkira on the maybe list. But only because that joke was so bad it might actually be brilliant.”
“I’ll take it.” I grinned as another name came to mind. “What about … Ariel?”
Livvi lit up. “That’s actually cute.”
“Cute?” I pretended to be offended. “Ariel is iconic.”
“Exactly.” She was clearly enjoying herself. “But does she feel like an Ariel?”
We both turned to look at the fish, who immediately zipped through the castle like she was trying to make a break for it.
I nodded. “Yeah, that’s totally an Ariel move.”
“Okay, fine,” she said with a reluctant smile. “Ariel goes on the list.”
I smirked. “The list? How many names do you think we’re coming up with?”
“As many as it takes to get it right,” she said primly, already grabbing a napkin and scribbling Ariel across the corner.
“Fine.” I leaned back again and thought for a second. “How about Mystique?”
Livvi narrowed her eyes. “Are you just naming any blue fictional characters you can think of?”
“No,” I said. “Otherwise I’d have already said Smurfette.”
That got her laughing so hard she had to set her chopsticks down. “Oh, no. Now I can’t stop picturing her with a little white hat.”
I looked over at the fish darting in and out of the fake coral. “She’d rock the hat.”
“She would,” Livvi admitted reluctantly.
We sat there in silence for a second, both of us watching the fish like naming her was suddenly the most important task in the world.
“Okay,” she said finally, her voice softer now. “Let’s leave it for tonight. Sleep on it.”
I nodded. “Fine. But just so you know, if I wake up at three a.m. with the perfect name, I’m texting you.”
“Deal.” She smiled as she picked her chopsticks back up. “But only if I can do the same.”
“Fair’s fair.”
Dinner was long gone, the takeout containers stacked neatly on the counter, and somehow, we’d migrated to the couch. The tank’s soft glow cast dancing shadows on the wall, the only light in the room.
Livvi sat cross-legged on the other end of the couch, leaning back into the cushions, her hair loose and slightly messy from where she’d tucked it behind her ear one too many times. She looked comfortable here, like she belonged.
“So.” She fiddled with the edge of one of the couch pillows. “I know trying to name the fish is a fun distraction, but how are you doing?”
I shrugged, pretending to think about it. “I’m fine.”
She gave me a pointed look. “That’s not the kind of answer you give someone you share a fish with.”
I chuckled. “That’s a lot of pressure for a shared-custody fish.”
“It is,” she said seriously, though her mouth curved at the edges. “So, answer the question. How are you really doing?”
I rubbed the back of my neck. “I don’t know. Good, I guess. The Pro Swim Classic is next weekend. I’m flying out in a couple days to start training in Austin for it. This is a big swim meet for me, make it or break it.”
She tilted her head, her expression softening. “Sounds like a lot of pressure.”
“It is,” I admitted. “And it’s not just the meet itself.
My dad … Just today he left me another voicemail about how I should be done swimming.
Saying I’m too old to be chasing some kid dream, that I need to start my career and take life seriously.
” I let out a breath of air. “Some days it feels like I’m swimming against him more than the water. ”
Her brow furrowed. “Is he like that with Ridge too?”
I let out a short humorless laugh. “With Ridge? Not so much. Ridge is a senior in college, twenty-three years old, still a few classes from graduating. Dad hasn’t really been pushing him the same way.
Not yet. But if Ridge decides to keep swimming seriously, I know Dad will be the same with him eventually.
High expectations, zero patience for failure. ”
Livvi reached out, lightly touching my arm. “That sounds … exhausting. I can’t imagine having that kind of pressure constantly on your shoulders.”
“It is,” I admitted quietly. “But it also fuels me. I like beating the odds.”
She gave me a small smile, removing her hand from my arm. “Then I’m sure you’ll do great in Austin.”
It was such a simple sentence, but it held a lot of substance coming from her. Like having her believe in me was something I hadn’t even known I’d needed.
“And what about you?” I asked. “How is working full time and double majoring going? I can’t even imagine how you are surviving.”
My comment seemed to make her blush, and I wasn’t exactly sure why.
“It’s going,” she breathed out in a sigh. “I don’t know how I’m surviving either. I think I’m just on autopilot. And a lot of caffeine.”
“But it’s still what you want?” I asked, remembering what she’d told me when she was here last night.
“Of course.” She answered almost instantly, like it was how she always answered that question, but then added, “Well, I think. I mean, it’s been the plan for so long. And I’m so close to finishing.”
“And then what?” I asked, curious to know what her plan entailed.
“Uh …” She fiddled more with the pillow in her lap. “Go see if I can get a more prestigious job in a big city, I guess.”
My brows rose, her answer surprising me.
Not that I couldn’t picture her climbing the ranks at some big shot company in a city somewhere, but for some reason it didn’t seem like that fit her, didn’t seem like somewhere she could truly be happy.
I wasn’t sure why I felt that way. We’d only known each other for a short time, so I could be wrong.
“Well, I’m sure this will all be worth it one day when you’re sitting in your corner office,” I said with a smile.