Waterfront #3
Austin’s grip on my shoulder tightened, a brief, heavy squeeze that felt more like a reminder than an embrace.
“You gotta give Tom a break, I’ve been telling you that for years.
The guy’s lonely, but he’s doing the work.
You just have to let him. And when it comes to me and Zane, what’s there to think about?
You think you could ever shake either of us off? Nah. Get real.”
I laughed. “Yeah, at least Zane stays out of love. You’re just a parasite built to annoy me, one that I can’t get off. Won’t leave me alone.”
“I mean it,” he told me, stopping just before we reached the glass doors. He turned me slightly so he could look down at my face, his eyes protective. “You’ve got Briggs, you’ve got me. You can breathe.”
“I know,” I whispered again. “Thanks, Austin.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, a lazy smirk returning to his mouth as he tapped the side of my head with his knuckles. “Don’t make it weird. I have a reputation to maintain.”
Austin lived in the same building us, an apartment with the exact same layout, a detail he’d insisted on when Zane and I first signed our lease.
He claimed it was for logistical efficiency regarding his business trips, but we all knew the truth, Austin didn’t like being more than a ninety-second sprint away from my front door.
“We’re going up,” Austin announced as the elevator doors slid open on his floor. His arm was still wound securely around Blair’s waist. He looked exhausted, the dark circles under his eyes catching the harsh fluorescent light of the elevator carriage, but he still had that stubborn grip on her hip.
“No, we aren’t,” Blair corrected calmly, reaching out to press the door-open button before the carriage could move again.
She looked over at me and Zane, her expression soft in the dim light.
“It’s past midnight, Austin. Seren’s eyes are practically glued shut, and you have to be on a flight to Orlando in six hours. ”
Austin grumbled something low and unintelligible under his breath, his forehead dropping against the crown of Blair’s blonde head for a split second.
He straightened up, his eyes moving across the small space to lock onto me.
He reached out, his hand landed on the back of my neck, and he pulled me forward just enough to press a rough, affectionate kiss to the top of my head.
“Call me on Monday, Seren,” he said softly, his fingers giving my hair one last, protective tug. “And don’t let Briggs skip out on checking that alternator. I don’t want you stranded on the shoulder.”
“You realize I drive a Mercedes, right? Why are you acting like I make her ride in a Civic older than me?” Zane seemed perplexed.
“I won’t,” I murmured anyway, my heart swelling with that warmth that only Austin could bring into a room. “Safe flight, Austin.”
He nodded once, a sharp, decisive movement, before his eyes shifted to Zane. The two of them didn’t say anything. They just traded a short, heavy look that carried the weight of unsaid promises. I’ve got her. I know.
“Night, guys,” Blair said, giving us a small wave as Austin finally let her pull him out into the hallway.
The elevator doors slid shut with a low, hydraulic sigh, leaving just me and Zane in the small, mirrored square.
The silence that followed was not stale; it felt like the air clearing after a thunderstorm.
When we reached our floor, Zane unlocked the door, his frame shielding me from the drafty hallway until we were safely inside.
The apartment was cool, the quiet kitchen smelling faintly of the vanilla candle I had burned that morning.
I didn’t bother turning on the overhead lights.
I just kicked off my shoes by the door, my bare feet sinking into the soft texture of the living room rug.
I felt small in the dark, but it was the kind of small that felt protected, not exposed.
Zane walked up behind me, his feet making no sound on the carpet.
His large hands came down to rest flat on my shoulders, his thumbs tracing slow, heavy circles against my collarbones.
“You’ll never understand how much I love you,” he murmured, his chest pressed flush against my back, his breath warm against the nape of my neck. “You did good tonight.”
“I missed them,” I admitted, leaning my head back against his shoulder, looking out the window at the city lights below. They looked like fallen stars scattered across the dark grid of the streets. “It felt… normal.”
“It is normal,” Zane said, his grip tightening just enough to secure me to the floor, to the room, to him. “This is the part where we just live, Seren.”
I closed my eyes, letting the rhythmic thud of his heart beneath my cheek become the only sound in the world.
Here in North Haven, the city was vast and indifferent.
Back in West Bridge, the ghosts were still throwing things around in the dark.
My dad was sitting on his porch, watching a feeder in the quiet hours of the night, and Austin was packing a bag for a state I had never seen.
But here, inside our blue apartment, the air was warm and everything was okay.