Variables #2
Declan exhaled quietly, dragging a hand briefly through his hair as he stepped back properly this time, creating space like it hadn’t existed a second ago. “What do you want, Ty?”
“I live here part-time,” Tyler shot back. “I don’t need a reason.”
“You absolutely do.”
Tyler shook his head. “Nope.”
Declan glanced at him. “You literally own your own place.”
Tyler didn’t answer.
“Which you avoid,” Declan added. “Conveniently.”
Tyler ignored that as well, his attention shifting to Riley instead. “Hey, sorry for coming unannounced,” he said, tone easing, more grounded now. “Ebony’s just grabbing something from the car. Thought I’d come down first and tell you that she asked to come and see you.”
“I’d love to see her,” Riley replied.
Tyler glanced between them once more, like he was still piecing something together, then let it go with a small shake of his head. “You two always stand that close, or should I tell Ebony we need to pick up some food and come back in five minutes?”
Riley didn’t know how to react to that question, heat building in her cheeks. “This distance was relevant to the conversation,” she said.
Declan huffed out a quiet laugh under his breath. “Translation: mind your own fucking business.”
Tyler grinned. “I heard her just fine.”
Tyler shifted his weight slightly, his attention settling more fully on Riley now that the moment had passed. There was a brief pause, like he was deciding how to phrase something, then he exhaled quietly.
“I just wanted to thank you, Riley, for giving Ebony somewhere she doesn’t have to perform all the time.” His expression warmed slightly. “I haven’t seen her this settled, or this happy, in a really long time.”
Riley didn’t respond immediately. The statement didn’t confuse her, but she couldn’t identify what part of her behaviour warranted gratitude when it would be what she did for anyone.
“I enjoy spending time with her, it’s mutually reciprocated,” she said.
Tyler’s mouth twitched, something almost amused flickering there. “Right,” he said. “Of course it is.”
Declan made a quiet noise under his breath that might have been a laugh. Riley’s eyes flicked to him when he said, “Careful, Riles, you’re getting sentimental.”
She looked at him, before smiling and rolling her eyes at the sarcasm. Tyler caught it instantly, his brows lifting slightly as he looked between them. “Oh, that’s new,” he said.
Declan didn’t even try to hide the faint smirk that followed. “Growth,” he said.
Riley ignored both of them. Footsteps sounded again from the stairs, lighter this time, and Ebony appeared a moment later, moving into the room with the same quiet certainty as before. Her gaze went straight to Riley, something bright but contained settling in her expression.
“Hi, Riley,” she said.
“Hey there, Ebony,” Riley replied.
Declan glanced between them once before pushing himself upright. “Alright,” he said. “Before this turns into a full house, I’m making dinner.”
Tyler snorted. “That’s a bold claim.”
“It’s not a claim,” Declan shot back. “It’s a plan.”
“What’s the plan?” Tyler asked, already sounding unconvinced.
Declan didn’t hesitate. “Ham and cheese sandwiches.”
There was a beat. “You are aware that’s not cooking, right?” Tyler said flatly.
“It is if I use a pan to toast them.”
“That’s still not cooking.”
Ebony nodded, entirely serious. “It’s not cooking.”
Declan looked personally offended. “You’re both unbelievable.”
Riley watched the exchange, her attention moving between them, not on the words themselves but on the rhythm of it. The predictability. The way each response followed a pattern that didn’t require anticipation so much as recognition. This was banter.
“Would you like to stay for dinner?” Declan asked, glancing at her.
Riley hesitated. “I should return home,” she said.
It was the correct answer in theory, her normal evening routine had not been structured to accommodate additional time here, there were notes to finalise, data to organise, observations to refine.
But somewhere in her body, she felt this innate push to say yes.
Ebony looked at her immediately, eyes alight and hopeful. “Can you stay?”
Riley exhaled quietly, the decision settling into place before she could fully deconstruct the effect it would have on her normal routine. “I’d like that,” she said.
Ebony smiled. Riley felt the shift as it happened, not sharp or disorienting, but the joy that came from agreeing to it. From the excitement of being someone wanted, for the idea that if she had said no, she would’ve been missed. The concept felt foreign.
“Alright,” Tyler said, like that settled it. Then, glancing toward the kitchen. “But just so you know: he can’t cook.”
Riley’s attention shifted to him.
“I’m serious,” Tyler added. “We’ve all lived through the Great Incident of 2024.”
Declan didn’t even slow. His hand came up and knocked the back of Tyler’s head as he passed. “Don’t even start,” he said.
Tyler ignored him. “Mac and cheese,” he clarified, like that explained everything.
Ebony nodded immediately. “There was smoke.”
“They’re being dramatic, it was fine,” Declan said, not breaking stride.
“It was not fine,” Tyler said. “He set off the water sprinklers in his previous apartment. The fire brigade gave him a discount code for a beginner’s cooking class.”
Declan turned just enough to look at him. “It was one little mistake, could’ve happened to anyone.”
Declan exhaled, something caught between irritation and reluctant amusement, before shaking his head and continuing toward the kitchen. As he passed Riley, his gaze flicked to hers and softened. It was brief, and yet it spoke volumes. He looked happy to have her around, to be involved in his night.
Riley held his gaze. She didn’t look away. Behind her, Tyler was still talking. “I’m just saying, if this goes badly, I warned you.”
Ebony sighed. “Unfortunately, he’s not wrong. Preparation is necessary.”
Riley barely registered the words. Her attention remained where Declan had disappeared into the kitchen, something quieter settling into place beneath the surface of her thoughts. The decision she had made moments earlier no longer felt like something that required thought.
For once, her instinct was telling her that she could trust Declan to keep her safe, and instead of questioning that response or dissecting it for error, she let herself believe it.