12. Chapter Twelve #2
Celeste’s standing in the doorway laughing so hard she has to grab the frame to steady herself.
I glance at her.
She looks… lighter.
Less tired.
Like she’s not just surviving tonight.
After we leave the arena, Parker claps me on the back, followed by a pissed-off Preston, who is staring down at his phone, ignoring all of us as he normally does.
“The Retro Rooster?”
I glance at Celeste, “You guys should join us. I know it’s your night off.”
“We don’t have to join,” she starts.
“We’re going,” Parker declares. “Victory fries.”
Rowen perks up instantly. “Fries?”
Celeste sighs. “You’re all terrible influences.”
“Correct,” Parker says with the biggest grin.
“Momma, make sure you dose me for fries and a shake, please.” Celeste grins, then pulls out her phone and sets Rowen’s insulin dose in the app.
The bell above the diner door jingles as we walk in.
Full circle.
Rowen runs to the booth, where the guys and I always sit in after a game. We normally take up half of the restaurant when we’re here.
“Is that your spot?” he asks.
“Yeah.” I smile at him, and it feels effortless.
Something about him settles the constant hum in my chest. Like when he’s close, the noise quiets.
Even though he isn’t mine in the way biology defines it, loving him feels instinctive.
Protective. Fierce. The kind of love that doesn’t ask permission before it takes root.
I’d burn the world down for him without hesitating, and the terrifying part is I know I wouldn’t regret it.
He climbs in proudly as if he owns it.
My teammates join in, claiming spots at tables and other booths.
Celeste slides into the booth across from me. Rowen sits looking at all the big guys around him, feet swinging under the table.
Parker drops into the seat at the end.
“So,” he says dramatically, looking at Celeste. “You’re the reason he’s been distracted.”
“I am not distracted,” I argue before she can get a word in.
“You stared into space for five minutes during film review today, and now you spend most evenings out of the house.”
“I was just thinking. And… I'm home enough.”
“About her.” He wiggles his eyebrows while shifting his gaze over to Celeste.
Celeste hides a smile behind the menu.
Rowen looks at me. “You think about my momma?”
I choke on air. I want to say ‘Fuck, yeah I do’, but then I remember he’s too young to hear about that and how exactly I think about her.
Celeste is always on my mind, her soft curls, sweet floral scent, and her laugh that she doesn’t give out freely.
She has found every space in my brain, and so has Rowen.
I’m often checking in on him, worried about his numbers.
Celeste has taken the time to teach me about his diabetes, his Dexcom, and his insulin pump.
I’ve known Rowen for a short amount of time now, but I would do anything for him.
“Rowen,” Celeste warns, her voice pulling me from my train of thought.
“What? He pointed at us at the game.” Rowen says, shrugging, as if my point is reason enough for his question.
The whole table erupts in laughs, and many teammates give me smirks and winks.
I lean forward, lowering my voice. “Yeah. I think about your mom… a lot.”
Rowen nods slowly. “Okay. As long as you are nice to her, you can keep thinking about her.”
Celeste kicks me under the table.
“Ow.” I dart my eyes towards the woman across from me; she’s trying to look mad, but I see the hint of a glimmer in her eyes.
“You’re encouraging him.”
“He asked,” I say while reaching down to rub the spot she kicked.
The waiter drops off milkshakes and fries, interrupting our conversation.
The waiter, Jessi, stops and chats to Celeste, leaning over the back of the booth, and I catch his eyes wander over her breasts.
“We’re all set,” I say to Jessi through gritted teeth.
If Ro wasn’t here, this guy would be flat on his ass right now for looking at my girl like that.
Jessi must catch my tone, because he tucks his tray under his arm and walks off quickly to the kitchen.
Rowen dips a fry into his milkshake. “It was the best day ever.” And the smile that forms on his face takes any ounce of annoyance I had for Celeste’s over-friendly co-worker away.
Celeste looks at me over his head.
“You didn’t have to bring us tonight,” she says quietly.
“I wanted to.” I reach for her hand across the table, running my thumb across her knuckles.
“You’re sure?” I can see the worry in her face; she’s not used to being put first, thought about, but not anymore, not with me.
I don’t hesitate.
“Yeah. I want you here. And look at Ro, he’s having so much fun.”
She studies me like she’s still waiting for the catch.
There isn’t one.
Parker leans back, watching us with a smirk.
“You’re in deep,” he mouths at me.
I don’t even deny it.
Because when Rowen slides closer and starts explaining, very seriously, how lazy his pancreases is to my teammates, and how “not fun” diabetes is. Celeste laughs like she hasn’t in weeks, and I realize none of this feels overwhelming.
It feels right.
And for the first time since this started, it feels like we’re not just figuring it out.
We’re building something.