20. Ty #2
I’m still looking at her, trying to catch up to what just happened, when I glance past her, at Danielle. Who is still there and still watching, but not quite as close anymore.
Ava appears at Danielle’s side like she’s been waiting for her cue.
“Mom,” she says, already reaching for her hand. “I need to show you what I made.”
Danielle glances down, momentarily pulled out of whatever she was about to say next. “Oh, okay, honey.”
Ava doesn’t wait. She takes her hand and starts tugging her toward the door, already talking, already halfway out of the room.
Danielle goes with her, casting one last look back over her shoulder that doesn’t quite land the same way it did a minute ago. And then they’re gone.
The room continues to empty, the girls buzzing as they pack up, voices overlapping again but lighter now, energized.
Hannah slows on her way past us. She looks at Vivian, then at me, and back to Vivian. A slow grin spreads across her face.
“I ship it,” she says, like she’s announcing something official.
Clara, right behind her, snorts. “Me, too.”
They link arms like it’s the most natural thing in the world and head for the door together, still giggling.
I watch them go before I dare make eye contact with Vivian.
“I don’t know what part of the last five minutes was crazier,” I say.
Her mouth twitches.
“Tank top—” I gesture vaguely toward the door Danielle just disappeared through. “Or the fact that you just walked over and kissed me in front of all of my girls.”
Her brows lift. “Your girls?”
“You know what I mean.”
She smiles, but there’s something a little smug in it now.
I shake my head once, still trying to catch up. “Although…” I glance toward the door again. “Those two getting along might actually be the most concerning development.”
Laughing, Vivian starts stacking trays without saying anything, sliding tools back into place, sorting charms into their compartments like she’s done it a hundred times, and I fall into step beside her without being asked. Table to table. Clearing. Resetting. Together.
We don’t talk. It’s easy. I pass her a container. She takes it without looking. Our hands brush for half a second, then we keep moving like it didn’t happen.
She picks up a small tray of loose charms, pausing when she notices one sitting in the wrong section.
“You alphabetized these backwards,” she says.
“No way. I absolutely did not.”
Vivian slides me a look. “Ty.”
“I organized them by vibe.”
“That’s not a system.”
“It can be?”
A laugh slips out of her before she can stop it. She shakes her head, moving the charms back into place.
“You would’ve been the kid who put triangle blocks into circle holes just to see if the universe would adapt.”
“It’s called innovation.”
“It disrupts my organization.”
I grin despite myself, reaching for another tray. “You’re kind of bossy when you clean up.”
“You’re kind of annoying when you help.”
“But, I’m willing to bet you don’t mind.”
She turns back to the table, lining up a row of bracelet chains with careful precision. “You know what’s weird?” she asks quietly.
“What?”
“I don’t usually like people touching my stuff.”
I stop, putting my tray down on the nearest table. “But?”
“But…” She exhales. “I don’t mind it with you.”
Something in my chest pulls tight. “Well, you wanna know what I think is weird?”
Her mouth curves just slightly. “Do tell.”
I swallow once. The words feel strangely delicate coming out. “I don’t feel overwhelmed with you.”
Her fingers still against the tray between us.
“You’re easy to be around,” I admit quietly. “I like that.”
Vivian looks up slowly, and suddenly I’m hyperaware of how close we’re standing, even if we are on opposite sides of the table. Close enough that if either of us leaned forward even a little, things would shift into dangerous territory fast.
Her gaze catches on mine and holds there. One second. Two.
Neither of us moves. My pulse kicks hard against my ribs. There’s something in her expression I can’t fully read. Surprise. Want. Like she’s trying to decide whether this moment matters as much to me as it suddenly does to her.
I think we both already know the answer.
Her eyes flick briefly to my mouth before she steps back first, breaking whatever this is before it can become something else entirely.
“We should probably finish cleaning up,” she says, voice quieter now.
“Yeah,” I manage. “Probably.”
Her gaze lingers on me for a second, before we go back to cleaning. We finish up the last of it without saying much.
Trays stacked. Tables cleared. Lights switched off one by one until the room settles back into itself, like nothing ever happened here at all.
Except it did.
I grab the last bin, hoisting it as I head for the door, when she calls out.
“Hey.”
I turn and find Vivian standing by the table, hands resting lightly on the edge, like she’s not quite ready to move on yet.
“I don’t know why,” she says, a small, almost surprised breath in it, “but I find it easy to be around you, too. I like who I am when I’m with you.”
That hits home. Straight in, low and solid, like something punching through before I can brace for it. I hold her gaze, not sure what to do with that for a second.
“Yeah,” I say finally, quieter than I expect. “I get that.”
She studies me for a second, like she’s making sure I mean it, when I jerk my head toward the door. “C’mon.”
She pushes off the table, crossing the room to me, and, ever the gentleman, I hold the door open as she passes, flicking off the last light on her way out.
The late afternoon air hits, warmer out here, easier.
I pull the door shut behind us and fall into step beside her without thinking about it, taking her hand in mine as we keep walking.
And it feels like enough.