Nova
The sun is going down by the time I leave Zoe’s.
I didn’t mean to stay that long. We just kept talking — nothing important, nothing heavy, just catching up. Eli fell asleep around four. We talked over him in whispers and pretended we weren’t doing it.
It was good. Things haven’t been easy like that in a while.
The Hollow is quieter now than it was this morning but it’s not empty. Lights are on in the windows. The smell of food from somewhere. A few people still out, moving slowly.
I’m cutting past the garden beds when I nearly walk into two women. Darcy and someone else — I know her face, not her name. They both stop.
“Nova.” Darcy looks genuinely relieved to see me. “How are you feeling?”
“Better.” I mean it, which is still slightly surprising. “A lot better.”
The other woman — her name comes to me, Petra, she has red hair and a kid who’s always climbing things — gives me the particular look of someone working up to something.
“My son,” she starts. “He heard about your — um—” She gestures vaguely upward. Wings. She means the wings. “He’s been asking. Constantly. I wanted to warn you.”
I laugh before I can stop it.
“Tell him to find me tomorrow,” I say. “I’ll show him.”
Petra’s face breaks into a smile. “He’s going to lose his mind.”
“Probably.” I grin.
Darcy reaches out and squeezes my arm once, brief and certain. “We’re glad you’re back, Nova. We really are.”
I look at her.
“Yeah,” I say. “Me too.”
I find Trey near the Community Hall, working on a section of fence that came down in the fighting. He’s got tools and wood and he’s so focused he doesn’t hear me until I’m right next to him.
He looks up a little startled.
“Hey, Love.”
I smile before I decide to. Can’t help it.
“Hey,” I say looking at the fence. He’s got most of it back up. “You’ve been out here all day?”
“On and off.” He sets the hammer down. Looks at me. “You good?”
“Yeah.” I actually am. “Zoe’s good. Eli’s managing.”
He nods.
“I could use some grub,” he says. “What do you say?”
“Sure.” I say it without thinking about it, which is probably the most normal thing I’ve done in weeks.
The Community Hall smells incredible.
Better than I remember. Something warm and rich. There’s a line of people around the filled tables. People talking all at once waiting for whatever is being cooked.
My stomach growls.
I want to eat it all.
I hear it and stop in the doorway.
Trey almost walks into me from behind. “What—”
Then I see it. Him.
Vaelor’s at the far end of the main counter, sleeves rolled up, laughing at something Mara just said. Really laughing — head back, shoulders moving. Mara’s laughing too.
My eyes move and I catch Beckett. He’s toward the back, through the open kitchen door. Stirring something at the stove.
I frown. Look at Trey.
He’s already reading my face. Leans down and kisses my cheek, quick and warm. “Go.”
I laugh without meaning to.
Then gasp as he smacks my ass as I walk away.
He chuckles.
Mara sees me coming and smiles over the counter. “There she is. You hungry?”
“In a minute,” I say. “I’ll be right back.”
She waves me through like she already knew.
The kitchen is warm. It smells even better in here — the soup is whatever’s in that large pot Beckett’s standing over, and it smells like heaven.
He’s got his phone pressed between his ear and his shoulder, free hand reaching for the herb bundle on the counter.
“—I know, I know. Be safe. Love you too.”
He hangs up. Drops the herbs in. Stirs.
I lean in the doorway.
“That smells amazing.”
He startles. Spins around. The spoon almost goes with him.
Then he sees me and grins.
It looks good on him.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” I walk in, move to the counter beside him. “When did you learn how to cook?”
“I mean—” He looks slightly offended. “I can cook, Nova.”
“Yeah but like—” I gesture at the pot. The herbs. The whole situation. “That.”
His hand goes to the back of his neck.
“I, uh.” He looks at the pot. “I may have called my mother.”
I stare at him.
Oh.
He’s looking at the ceiling now, slightly red.
I start laughing.
“What?” He turns, laughing too despite himself, pointing the spoon at me like that helps his case. “What is— stop. Nova.”
“I’m not— I’m not laughing at you—”
“You are absolutely laughing at me.”
“I’m laughing with you,” I say, “you’re laughing too—”
“Involuntarily—”
I can’t stop. He can’t either.
Eventually we calm down. He stirs the pot.
“I just wanted it to be good,” he says. Quieter now. “For the town.” He glances at me. “For you. I thought after everything — chicken soup, you know. It’s—” He shrugs. Like that’s enough of an explanation, which it is.
I look at the slightly embarrassed set of his shoulders.
“I think that’s exactly what the town needs,” I say. “Beckett.”
He looks at me.
I kiss him.
He blinks. Once.
“You’re amazing,” I say. “Or whatever. You get the idea.”
He’s still blinking when I steal a spoon from the drawer.
“What are you..”
I grin as I take a spoonful of soup right from the pot.
“Hungry, Beckett.”
Now he’s grinning again too.
“Hungry.”