Icy eyes investigated me through a plume of disappearing steam. I lowered my coffee on the table between us and inhaled through my nose in anticipation of what would follow a look so cold.

"Are you mad at me or something?" Ann asked, leaning her forearms on the table.

And that was the last thing I'd expected.

"Huh?" I let go of the mug and tossed my used fork on the soiled plate below me. "No? Fuck makes you say that?"

"I don't know." Ann pushed off her spot and gathered the remnants of my breakfast with a huff. "It just feels like I never see you anymore for longer than, like… a minute."

I took a sip of my coffee and stared as she cleared the table. What was I supposed to say other than a half-hearted "yeah"? That my uneasiness about spending time at the inn had left me conflicted enough to consider moving in with my fucking grandpa? It's not like I could've without hurting her feelings any more than I apparently already was.

So I said nothing instead.

"I know you're trying not to drink and stuff… and I think that's good and all." Her shoulders dropped as she let out a sigh, clearly not due to the weight of my single plate in her hand. "But I swear you're never around anymore—even Dad's noticed." She made a point to stop in front of my seat. "You used to sit at the bar and eat breakfast every morning, dinner every night…."

I shrugged. "I dunno. Sometimes I'm hungry, sometimes I'm not." It wasn't like I was starving myself. Maybe I wasn't eating breakfast as regularly, but mainly I wasn't sure if I should admit where I'd been spending my dinners lately.

And even though Ann turned away at my clearly lackluster explanation, I was calling after her anyway. "I'm just tryna stay busy. It's nothin' to do with you. Promise."

Ann pushed through the kitchen doors without saying a word, like she hadn't heard—or simply chose not to hear what I'd said. When she returned less than a minute later, the same unconvinced frown remained on her face.

"It just feels like you disappeared, and I was starting to get worried. Like, I have no idea how you've been holding up." She placed a hand on the table, the other on her hip. "And it's not like Kai's around anymore—what have you even been up to?"

It was true, and I hated how much drinking had contributed to us hanging out or even just seeing each other regularly.

"I've been fine just… I dunno, tryna stay busy and shit."

"Yeah?" she prodded for more with one simple word.

"Uh, I dunno just workin' more, takin' walks and shit… readin'..." I took another sip of the dwindling coffee. "Helpin' around Claire's."

"What?" The table jolted as Ann sent both hands down to its surface. When I couldn't conjure up a response within seconds, she initiated immediate encroachment on my personal space. "Gray, what?"

I met her eyes with the beginnings of a glare. "Heard you the first time."

Ann straightened, finally giving me some space to breathe my own air. "So that's where you've been?"

"Yep." Something about admitting that truth made an interrogation feel imminent. And based on the look Ann continued to shoot me, my attempt at a short, casual answer did nothing to stop it.

She paused and tilted her head to the side. "Like, every day after work?"

"Only the past few days."

"Mmmm." She didn't even try to hide her rolling eyes. "Okay."

I sat back in my chair, entirely giving in to the glare I'd been trying to hold back. "Don't 'mmm okay' me. The fuck are you tryna say?"

"Nothing," Ann retorted in a tone that undeniably meant something. "I just remember when all of a sudden, every day after work, you were at the library," she continued in that self-righteous, know-it-all tone I hated. "You don't see any similarities here?"

"For fuck's sake Ann." I had to put my head in my hands at the comparison. "That's different."

"Is it?" I could just feel her eyes burning through my hands. "Are you actually doing anything different this time? Or are you just blindly chasing after another girl?"

Ouch. Whether Ann was trying to help me out or piss me off, that one hurt.

My hands went to the table as I sat up and turned my glare back to her. "First, you tell me to be nice and stop drinkin' and shit—not to mess things up with her. And now that I'm actually doin' it, you're mad? The fuck is that?"

"I'm not mad! There's just a difference between doing all that and finding any excuse to spend every single second with her!" Ann threw her hands up in exasperation when my face didn't change. "Like, do you not understand what I mean? I've seen the way you are with her, Gray. I'm not stupid."

"And neither am I." I adjusted my hat and used the excuse to finally look away from Ann. "Not like it's your business anyway. We're keepin' you out of it, remember?"

She just scoffed at that one. "Yeah, right. Until you two end up in a fight again." She crossed her arms and lowered her voice only slightly. "I bet if you guys were, I'd be seeing a lot more of both of you."

"That's… that's not true." But I couldn't help the guilt knowing that I did rely heavily on Ann when shit hit the fan. "We're not gonna fight like that anymore."

"Ugh. Gray," Ann groaned into the hands she brought up to her face. "I just don't want this thing with Claire to turn into another Mary situation. And I know you don't either."

"It won't." My defense came quickly, but it was the first assured statement I'd made all day. "Claire and I know where we stand now. That's more than Mary and I could ever say."

"Yeah?" She lowered her hands and raised an unconvinced brow. "And where do you stand?"

"We're just friends." Because how could I forget? Claire seemed to bring it up whenever I was over, and I reminded myself daily.

Ann returned with a disapproving shake of the head. "I'm sure you are."

"We agreed we weren't gonna get involved like we were before," I paused, nervously feeling the need to clarify further, "… romantically."

I wasn't sure if the confused look on Ann's face resulted from my poor wording or her annoyance. Either way, I was over-explaining.

"We wanna have a solid relationship before the baby. So… we agreed to work on bein' friends till then." Who knew what would happen after that, but I figured we'd cross that bridge when we got there… I didn't want to admit any backburner hopes for that situation, so I had to redirect back to Ann. "With Mary, shit was always up in the air. It's different."

Even though Ann had relaxed a bit, I could tell she wasn't going to drop whatever this was.

"Okay, I get that. But you really don't see a problem with spending every single day together?" She seemed to be asking the question in earnest this time. Though her sincerity did nothing to ease me. "At all? Knowing full well that she has no interest in a relationship, and you clearly still have something going for her?"

My lip turned up at that dig. "Clearly?"

"Clearly," she repeated with more emphasis. "You don't see a problem?"

"Nope." Maybe I didn't want to see a problem, but things between Claire and I had been stable—good even, most of the time. "Believe it or not, I do have some self-control left." At least, enough to get by.

I just had to make sure I could control myself long enough for it to stay that way. Separating the real Claire from the Claire that periodically made appearances in my dreams was the first step…

"So, what do you guys even do?" The sharp question signaled a follow-up investigation.

"I just help out, try and learn shit." I wasn't lying, but I still felt nervous explaining it all to Ann for some reason. Even more so than when I'd told Gramps. "I see if she needs anything done, and she saves the sketchier shit for—"

"I get that," Ann huffed with a wave of her hand. "I meant after your whole chivalrous thing."

I closed my eyes to resist hucking them to the back of my skull. "I dunno," I answered with an annoyed groan. "We'll eat and hang out."

"Hang out?" Ann repeated incredulously.

"Yeah…? Sit on the couch, watch tv…." I trailed off before Ann's hard stare had me anxiously adding to the silence. "Talk and shit? I dunno."

"You talk?"

Something about her disbelief only added to my growing frustration. "Yes, we—do you want an exact play-by-play of every night or some shit?"

"I guess... I'm just confused how Claire has so much time to kill with you when she's apparently too busy to tell Karen what's going on." Ann crossed her arms without taking that accusatory look off of me. "She promised me she was gonna tell Karen about… you two after the Music Festival, but she didn't. And since then, it's been nothing but excuses."

Every single word out of Ann's mouth backed me into a corner. While I couldn't imagine how shitty it must be for Ann to continually lie to her best friend on Claire's behalf, it's not like I could do anything about it. I was beyond fighting with Claire about who we told.

"Claire's probably just not ready yet," I tried, doing nothing to lessen Ann's tension. "Last time we talked about it, she said some shit about wantin' to wait till she was farther along."

"And I get that. But… I'm getting tired of covering for her. It's exhausting." If the conflict in Ann's face wasn't enough, it was evident in her shaky voice. "Especially when her excuse is not having any time, considering she's been spending it all with you."

"I mean… we do spend a lot of time doin' work shit. Cut her some slack." I thought the explanation would give Ann some reassurance, but if anything, it was the opposite.

"Of course, you'd defend her." Ann just closed her eyes, taking a slow breath in and out. "I don't even know what to say to you right now."

And honestly, the feeling was mutual. "Dunno why you're makin' this such a big deal. Yeah, that's pretty shitty of Claire, but it makes sense for us to get along."

"Okay, yeah, it makes sense to get along," she admitted with exasperation. "But does it make sense for you to be over there all the time? That's what I'm getting at."

The genuine worry in her eyes made me stop and think. Suddenly, I didn't give a single shit about answering her question anymore. "You don't think we can just be friends?"

"I didn't say that." But she might as well have. "I'm just trying to understand why you're spending so much time with somebody you like if the agreement was 'just friends.'" And, of course, she had to bring out the air quotes for the last bit.

Being around somebody I had questionable feelings for had its challenges; there was no denying that. But with Kai gone and Cliff routinely out from sunrise to sunset, I had an empty room more often than I'd like. And it wasn't like the dining room was much better. Spending time with Claire sure as hell was easier than being cooped up at the inn stone-cold sober and alone with my thoughts. Her company had become a very welcome distraction from the impulses looming in the back of my mind, and I wasn't ready to let that go.

"She can't drink either, so it… I dunno, helps," I finally admitted, unable to actually look Ann in the eyes. "It's like…can't even think about doin' it when I'm with her 'cuz it's not an option."

Ann recalculated, stopping and stiffening for a few moments before speaking again. "Does Claire know that?" she asked after a string of seconds had been lost between us.

My conversations with Claire had been limited to safe topics: her farm, how she'd been feeling, questions about the town, stories of what I'd missed during work, and recollections of random encounters she'd had that day—usually with bugs. Drinking hadn't come up in conversation, so it wasn't like I'd had the opportunity to divulge those struggles to her… even if I wanted to.

But based on Ann's long, drawn-out sigh, she took my silence as an intentional omission of information.

"Just… it just hasn't come up." I hated that the unintentional stutter probably made me sound more guilty. "Obviously, I'll tell her."

Ann pursed her lips together and slowly exhaled. "You can rely on other people for that stuff, too, though. It doesn't just have to be her." She raised her brow as her voice softened, "Like me… Saibara, Dad, Cliff."

"I know… just, don't wanna put that on you guys all the time." Because it felt like I was always complaining to them about my bullshit—like even the best of our interactions were tainted by it. With Claire, it felt fresh, unblemished by my bullshit despite her involvement in it. I wasn't sure if I could articulate that on the spot, but that didn't stop my dumbass from letting the words fall out of my mouth anyway. "And… it's just easier with her… it's hard to explain."

Ann stared through me for a few silent seconds, eyes still hard and colder than ever.

"Wow. Cool. Well, I'm happy things are going so well between you two," she just about spat between us before whirling away from the table. "Glad we were able to catch up. Hopefully, I'll see you sometime soon—maybe in a few weeks or something if I'm lucky—or whenever you two end up fighting again." The sore remarks trailed behind her as she stormed off towards the kitchen.

Normally I would have brushed that less than ideal reaction under the rug until Ann eventually got over it. But something in me couldn't do it this time.

I leaned on the back of my chair, one leg dangling off the side of my seat and ready to chase after her if needed. "Ann, wait."

"What?" she snapped, stopping on her heels to glance over her shoulder at me.

"I'm sorry." It felt like what I should say, but it needed more. "For… uh, for not makin' time for you. Like I should."

Ann slowly swiveled but didn't say a word. Even so, I could just tell by the anguish on her face that she had a lot on her mind.

"Sometimes…" Ann started, her eyes fixed on a spot in the hardwood floor as she bit her bottom lip, "it feels like you only want me around when it's convenient for you—when things aren't going well. And I thought it'd be different after Mary but…" her voice faltered, but she didn't have to finish the thought.

"That's not true," I immediately denied the spot-on accusation. While it hadn't been my intention, it was undeniably the way I'd acted. "But I've been a shitty friend to you, Ann."

"Yeah," she agreed, looking back at me with a sad half-smile. "Kinda." And fuck, did that one just about slice my heart in half.

"Tomorrow, early. Before work." I was speaking before I even had a chance to think. "Wanna go up to the hill? And we can stop at the spring on our way back?" After an unsuccessful attempt to swallow the nerves, I said the words anyway, "I wanna be there for you and Doug."

The offer made Ann's entire body go straight. "Oh." She froze for a few seconds before her surprised features relaxed into a reassuring warmth. "Okay. Yeah. Meet me down here at 5 then," she said with a genuine smile before her strides resumed towards the kitchen. "Don't be late!"

Just like that, I could breathe again.

Sure, it was a promise to be up and ready to go with a family of early-risers at the ass-crack of dawn. And maybe offering to be there for Ann on the anniversary of her mom's death was biting off way more than I could chew. But I just knew I needed to be there for Ann like she always was for me. Focusing on that notion helped push back the nerves about actually doing it.

I was thankful for the clear head this morning, even more thankful that it was becoming the norm. It'd never occurred to me how much drinking had been clouding my brain even after I wasn't drunk anymore. Sure I had hunches, but it'd always been easier to ignore them.

I'd grown too used to the hangover and the physical reminders of my poor decision-making skills. But I'd never realized how sluggish routine indulgence left me until I'd been clean for almost a week.

And after spending the last few days working closely together, even Gramps was starting to notice. The realization made me somehow feel both seen and entirely too shameful about who I'd been the past few years. I hated how content I'd been for too long, struggling through life as a watered-down version of myself.

Though that regret still hung heavy on my shoulders, I also felt… hopeful about who I could become for the first time. There was nothing I could do about the past now, so I figured I'd rather give power to the things I could at least somewhat control.

Which lately, was work. I'd actually come into the smithy excited for lessons to resume, and I couldn't remember the last time I'd felt remotely optimistic about working. Reviewing this past week had me eager to put my practice to use. I'd even worked up the courage to bring up the stashed sapphire to my grandpa for advice during my trek to work.

But I walked into the old brick building, only to be told that we'd taken on one of our most sizable upgrade orders of the year. Apparently, farmers from the next town over had come by to drop off tools in desperate need of repair and upgrade. And their timing was impeccable. Knowing the significant amount of work would undoubtedly postpone my training, I'm sure the initial disappointment was evident on my face.

While I was mentally preparing myself for a day of grunt work, my grandpa surprised me by pulling up an extra chair to his desk like it was nothing. To me, it was so much more. It was almost overwhelming at first. I didn't expect Gramps to include me in the project management, let alone put me in charge of planning how to get it all done before the following Monday.

For a brief moment, I was inclined to make sure Gramps hadn't completely lost his mind.

But there he was, nonchalantly handing a massive share of responsibility my way. Truthfully I felt pretty fucking clueless sitting next to my grandpa, but his guidance was surprisingly patient. I never realized just how much time we could spend sitting around his desk planning manual labor on paper—materials, hours, production costs, things I'd never even considered to be a part of the job. Gramps had to know that helping me understand it all would eat up a significant amount of our time, and he still did it without a single gripe.

It wasn't exactly how I'd planned to spend my day or what I'd been looking forward to—but I knew what I wanted was coming. Or at least, I was hopeful.

I ended up leaving work with considerable planning and prep done for the next day. By now, Gramps was generally aware—and surprisingly supportive—of my current arrangement with Claire, and he reminded me of the time when late afternoon had rolled around.

On my way to Freedom Fields, it finally felt like everything was falling into place. Like I was finding a routine that actually worked. Even walking to Claire's was becoming familiar and entirely less daunting. Maybe I had the bout of cooler weather to thank, but I wasn't a sweaty, nervous wreck just existing in her presence or trying to talk to her… most of the time. If anything, I was worried about losing everything we'd managed to build in a short amount of time.

But the minute I stepped foot on the property, something felt off. I heard just the tail end of a howling laugh until I noticed a typical overall-clad Claire kneeling in her field. Since we'd cleared out almost all the old summer growth, she seemed to be sitting in a vast expanse of dirt sprinkled with sprouts. It was the fastest I'd ever found her, only this time she wasn't alone.

That long blonde ponytail flipped over her shoulder as Claire directed a wide grin towards the person beside her in the dirt. From behind, I could only see messy black curls brushing the collar of a tattered button-up that I doubted belonged to any of the women in town. And if that wasn't enough, those broad shoulders looming beside Claire were a dead giveaway.

When he pushed off his faded jeans and moved to his feet, the towering profile of a familiar face cracked a smile down at Claire. His lips moved, but I wasn't sure if I was too far away to hear or too lost in my own head, trying to figure out what the fuck was going on in front of me.

He offered a hand down to help Claire up. As she took it, I placed the face. The feelings came before the name, but I sure as shit remembered Marlin.

And while I didn't remember many of Seed Guy's personal details, watching him and Claire make 'business connections' on the beach had been burned into my brain. I hated it—the way he looked at her like she was the only thing bright enough to bring out whatever was shrouded underneath the stoic stare I'd met. Which was clearly all fucking smiles and a helping hand.

I hadn't even realized how close my steps had gotten to the pair until crackling leaves under my boots made Claire's gaze flicker in my direction. Blue eyes immediately widened as they met mine, and she shot to her feet without much support from Marlin's hand.

It happened too fast. Claire only stood for a millisecond before her lashes fluttered closed and knees buckled. It took one wobble towards him before Marlin snapped into action, wrapping his free hand around Claire's back to pull her close and tightening the grip on her hand.

And my dumbass was frozen, stuck in the leaves, watching it unfold like a flaming trainwreck.

Pressed against Marlin's chest, Claire repeated slow blinks at him until the apparent realization of her position had them doubling in size.

"Easy." His concerned face moved closer to hers. "You okay?"

"I–I um, wow. I'm so sorry." Claire let out a single, airy chuckle as the hand on Marlin's shirt made a poor attempt to push away. It didn't look like she was trying too hard, or maybe she was just too weak. It was possible, but it didn't make the thought any less selfish. "I just got a little dizzy."

"Are you sure?" Marlin hovered only inches away from her face. Way too fucking close for my comfort. "You should probably sit."

"Y-you're sweet, really. But I just stood up too fast." It was like Claire was trying to peel herself away now, but I wasn't sure if it was because she didn't want him touching her or just didn't want me to see it. "I'm already feeling better."

It wasn't like that mattered, though; I had to remind myself. The priority was making sure Claire and the kid were okay—things that friends worried about. And evidently, she was fine… but I could still feel acid burning up from my stomach.

"Oh. Alright." Marlin slowly released Claire, dragging his hand from her back like it was savoring every single inch it came into contact with. Absolutely no fucking haste in the man's movements at all. "If you say so…" The hand returned to his side, but the other lingered before letting go of Claire's hand. Finger by fucking finger.

Claire did a double-take between us, and Marlin's attention followed as if on cue.

"Well, hi!" Claire squeaked in my direction as she took a small step away from the same person who'd been holding her so damn close a minute ago. Something about the action seemed guilty, but I wasn't sure if it was in my head or not.

I nodded in her direction and resumed my steps towards the pair despite the overwhelming urge to run away.

"I hope you weren't standing there for too long," Claire paired with an awful forced laugh. It made me wonder what I would have seen if I'd been any earlier. "I must've lost track of time completely—totally spaced you were coming over."

I didn't even have a chance to feel bad about being forgotten before Claire was glancing between Marlin and me. "Uh, Gray, you remember Marlin, right? Marlin, Gray?"

"Oh. Yeah." Marlin gave me a nod, only slightly friendlier than mine had been. "Kai's friend, yeah?"

"Yeah." Despite Marlin doing nothing other than putting his dirty fucking paws on a girl who had no romantic obligations towards me, I hated him. The mature thing to do would've been to get over myself, but I had absolutely no intentions of being mature at that moment.

"Marlin and his sister run the produce farm over in Forget-Me-Not," Claire continued as if I gave a single fuck about Marlin or what the hell he was up to when he wasn't around. "They stopped by to check the place out earlier, and Marlin stayed to help out."

"Couldn't help it," Marlin responded to Claire with a soft smile exclusively directed at her, even though nobody had fucking asked. "The property's impressive, but sure is a lot for one."

His reasoning had me rolling my eyes. "Seems like she's been doin' it just fine on her own." I wasn't sure what had possessed me to sound so bitter, but I sure as hell wasn't going to take it back.

Claire shot me a curious look. Maybe she thought it was a bold statement coming from the same person who'd insisted on helping on her farm as of recently—which it was. But something else lingered in her eyes that I couldn't place.

"Yeah," Marlin nonchalantly responded with a shrug. "No harm in lending a hand every now and again." He held my gaze only briefly before moving back to Claire. "Anyway, I should catch up with Vesta."

I was only halfway through connecting the familiarity of the name when I ended back up on Claire. There I was, gawking like a pathetic fucking idiot while she grinned up at Marlin like I wasn't even there.

"Yeah! Definitely," she sang through that smile, stepping close to give his forearm a quick squeeze. "Thanks again for everything."

I remembered when I hated that wide toothy grin, but I never realized how awful it could make me feel when directed at someone else.

And, of course, he was staring at her too. Because who wouldn't?

Marlin finally cleared his throat and turned his head towards the north path. "Yeah, anytime." His shoulders turned like he was finally going to leave but stopped after one fucking step. "I can stop by next week to get your order if you're ready."

"Oh. Uh, yeah!" Claire answered a little off guard, running her hands through the hair hanging off her shoulder. "Or I can always give you a call."

"Yeah. Lemme know. We'll be back in town on Monday, so I can always deliver then too." Marlin threw his hands into his back pockets and gave a single nod towards Claire and me before turning away. "Anyway. Y'all take care."

I didn't realize I'd been watching his slow steps disappear north until I heard Claire clear her throat beside me. She'd closed a bit of distance between us, rocking from side to side like she was waiting for me to do or say something. As if I had a fucking clue.

"Sorry about that." Claire mindlessly dusted the dirt from her overalls.

"S'whatever," I answered, trying to exhale whatever bullshit was building up in my tensed muscles.

"I didn't forget you were coming or anything!" She leaned closer, trying to meet my unwilling eyes. "I just didn't realize how late it was."

"Why does that matter?" I finally turned to look at her, not expecting her nonchalance to make me sound so sharp. "You'd of sent him packin' if you'd realized I was on my way?"

"W-what?" Her eyes widened as she recoiled from me. "What does that mean?"

I instinctively reached up for my hat when I realized saying what'd actually been on my mind probably wouldn't end well. "Doesn't mean shit. Forget it."

What would I have said? That Seed Guy definitely wants to fuck you? And I'm jealous of some guy who isn't obligated to only be your friend because I don't want to even think about you being interested in someone else? Even though we're not together, and there's no promise of us actually ever being together.

Because that would go over so well.

"No. I'm not. No hiding. If I can't, neither can you." Claire wrapped her hand around the arm I'd used to fix my hat and didn't let go until I begrudgingly met her stare. "What's with the attitude? It's not like I was blowing you off for Marlin."

It sure fucking felt like it, though. "The fuck was that guy doin' here anyway?"

"That guy has a name, first of all," Claire said, as a matter of fact, raising her brow at me. "And second, Marlin and Vesta had business in town, and they stopped by to drop me the inventory list I asked for."

When I didn't respond fast enough, Claire put a hand on her hip. "They literally grow and sell seeds for a living. Marlin offered to help with a few things and was giving me some advice about my soil. We just lost track of time—"

"Your soil?" It was a question but came out more like a scoff.

"Yes, Gray." She narrowed her eyes at me with a plastered smile. "I have a lot of it, y'know. In case you've forgotten."

I had to look away. "Yeah." And how fucking fantastic it was that Seed Guy was now a dirt expert too. "How could I forget?"

"Seriously, what is your problem?" Claire stepped in front of me, so I couldn't avoid her persistence. "You're allowed to have friends, but I'm not? Like, what are you even mad about?"

I groaned, unsure which question to answer, let alone how to do so. "It's just… it's bullshit."

"What is bullshit?" her exasperated voice asked.

"I had to fight you just to touch corn." I couldn't help looking over towards the patch of dirt where those same stalks of corn used to stand. "That guy waltzes on your property—first day you give him the fuckin' welcome wagon and spend the whole damn day together."

Claire dropped her hands, opened and closed her mouth a few times, beginning to say something and then abandoning ship.

"He—It's literally what he does for a living, Gray. It's, like, not even close to comparable."

"Yeah." Maybe she was right, but it didn't make me feel any less shitty.

"Like, sorry I'm finally accepting help that you insisted I needed so desperately."

That sass instantly struck a nerve in me. "And sorry I have a hard time believin' that Soil Guy isn't only interested in checkin' out some dirt."

"That's what this is?" Claire asked, disgust taking over her face. "You think I'm trying to get with him or something?"

"I dunno." I was in too deep to back down now. So I matched her glare instead. "You tell me. It's not like he was bein' discreet about it."

Claire held her jaw on the ground in silence, just staring at me. After one scoff, she clenched her mouth shut and shook her head.

"Listen. My relationship with Marlin is strictly professional—despite whatever ridiculous, twisted idea you have going on up there!" She used both hands to angrily point to my head as if I didn't get the fucking clue. "And even if it wasn't! It would have nothing to do with you—we're not together."

"You're right. We're not." I didn't anticipate how much I'd hate saying that out loud, but I'm sure it was clear in my voice or the flush spreading across my face. "Do whatever the hell you want, Claire. I don't give a fuck."

And with that, I braced myself to be rightfully kicked off the property.

Nothing prepared me for the calm that remained on Claire's features, though. She stared up at me with big blue eyes, slowly blinking before tilting her head ever so slightly. And then she laughed. Really fucking laughed.

"Okay, you're—" her hissing laugh interrupted the thought. "That's funny. You're a bad liar, y'know that?"

That reaction had my face on fire. "W-what?"

"You are! Like, really?" she asked, unconvinced and smug all at the same time. "That's why you come over here? Because you don't give a fuck about what I do?" Claire didn't take her eyes off me as she inched closer. "What about the whole, 'if something were to happen to you or our kid—'"

"Okay, fuck. That's not…" but I just groaned instead of finishing the sentence. I hated being caught in some sort of stupid defensive lie of my own creation. Even more so, I hated that Claire was right. Because I definitely did give a shit, and I wasn't sure if her awareness was a good or bad thing.

But Claire didn't say anything to that. She just stared at me with that same confident smirk, waiting to see how I got myself out of this one.

I took a deep breath, searching for the right words this time. "No shit, I care about what you do. Just meant that I'm not gonna tell you what to do."

"Thank you," she replied, letting her lips relax into a softer smile.

"But… if I'm bein' honest…." At least I could get one of the frustrations off my chest. Admitting unwarranted jealousy would only bring up another talk about 'just being friends' that I honestly wasn't in the mood to have again. "Just don't love some random dude hangin' around you or our kid."

"You don't trust me?" her voice softened with genuine concern.

"That—that's not it." I brought a hand to my temple with an exhale. "I just don't know that guy."

"So… you don't trust my judgment?" Claire tried again, that same sincere questioning tone.

"You barely know the guy," I felt the need to remind her. Part of me wanted to ask if that same guy even knew she was pregnant, but I knew the answer would piss me off. If she hadn't told Karen, why the hell would she tell Marlin?

"I barely knew you at one point, too," she felt the need to remind me, shrugging at the statement. "I let you hang around. Plus some other things."

I couldn't hide the disgust on my face at that one. "That's different, and you know it." And the comparison did nothing to soothe me.

"Our kid isn't even born yet," Claire added, moving a free hand to mess with the collar of her flannel. "And while I'm the residence, I can take care of us. You don't need to worry so much."

"Just… fuck, okay. Whatever." I was so done talking about it. I just wanted the conversation to be over so I could go back to spending time with her like usual. "Be safe enough for the both of you. That's all I care about."

"I will," she answered with a triumphant grin. Like she'd won something.

And even though I wasn't sure how or what, I had the feeling that I'd lost. "Fine."

"Fine," Claire repeated without missing a beat. "So, are we done arguing?"

I sighed. "Dunno, are we?"

"Well, I am." Claire shoved her hands in the pockets of her overalls and shot me a plastic smile. "So either you stop complaining and help or leave."

And I wasn't about to leave. Solitude at a time like this was the last thing I needed. All I could do was suck it up and prove that I could be a trusted friend to Claire. So I shut my stupid mouth and followed her to the last remnants of summer remaining on the field of budding autumn growth.

She stopped in front of the few patches of tomato vines that tangled themselves around the weathered trellises. While sections of the stems had begun to brown and wilt, deep green leaves peaked out. In front of the bushes sat baskets brimming with tomatoes. Some wrinkled more than others, some deeper red or farther on their way out than the rest.

"Welp, this is the last of it," Claire announced to herself. "I wasn't expecting to get to this today, but we have enough time to get these sorted before dinner."

"So… sortin' tomatoes?" I asked, raising a brow.

"Yup!" Claire spun around with genuine excitement. "All the good ones have been shipped or stored for the festival. This is just the excess that's been on the vine for too long."

"That's it?"

"Yeah?" she asked with newfound sass. "What, this one too easy for you?"

I shrugged. "Better than waterin'."

Which was true. The day before, Claire let me water her field with a metal watering can for almost an hour before she smugly showed me the hose that'd been wrapped up near her water spigot. I definitely preferred sorting tomatoes over that. Or the chickens.

"Okay, grab a seat, and I'll be right back!" And as always, she disappeared, running off into the shed beside her barn before I could say anything back.

So I did, settling in the grass around the first of three baskets stacked tall with tomatoes. Claire returned with a crate in each hand and plopped down across from me. After setting the bins out, she pushed a basket my way and pulled one closer to her.

Claire got right into sorting, giving more than enough examples of salvageable tomatoes that went in the first crate. I added a few tomatoes from my basket that fit the bill—nothing perfect but nothing too bruised and mushy. It seemed self-explanatory, but then Claire stopped me by calling my name.

"Here, wait. Catch this one."

I only had a split second to put my hands up before a water balloon of a tomato exploded on contact with my left palm. It wasn't much bigger than a golf ball, but the impact left the red, mangled remnants splattered all over my hand. While I was left stunned, hissing laughter erupted in front of me.

"Okay, okay," Claire pushed out as she caught her breath, "if they're that squishy, they go in the compost crate." I already knew she meant the second container, but all I wanted to do was throw the wasted tomato back at her.

Despite that urge, I flung the bits from my hands and wiped them on the grass. "You coulda just shown me without throwin' shit."

"Yeah, but that's no fun," she giggled back.

I glanced to my basket, searching for any similar enough to the tomato Claire had sent my way. "All I'm sayin' is you might end up regrettin' that."

"Don't waste my tomatoes," Claire taunted, doing a poor job of hiding her smirk.

I gave a slight nod of understanding… but in the back of my mind, I knew I was going to get her back.

After Claire had watched me sort through my top layer of tomatoes, not much else was said. I was used to it by now—she'd overexplain the fuck out of whatever I was helping her with, and then we'd work in silence until she'd remember my presence. Then after she'd finished distracting herself by talking to me, it was back to business. I didn't mind. Either way, I just liked spending time with her.

Being around Claire was starting to feel more natural every time I came over. I just didn't want to admit how often I'd been letting my eyes wander over to her… or how much further I'd let my mind wander. But Claire didn't notice, thankfully. It was one of the few benefits I got when she was in her little world. She only focused on the fruit in front of her, her lips rubbing back and forth the only other distinguishable movement apart from her busy hands.

Claire seemed in a trance, but then again, so was I. What was it about her? Wanting to attribute it to her blonde hair, blue eyes, and good bone structure wasn't enough. Because arguably just as attractive women had given me the time of day, and I'd never fixated on them the way I did Claire. It was more than how she looked. It was just… her. And the way she made me feel. Nobody else was capable of infuriating me the way she did. Still, nobody was able to make me feel nearly as good either.

I wasn't sure how she did it, though. What was it about her that made me want to hold out hope? That made me want to somehow bite my tongue and divulge my deepest thoughts at the same time? How was she the only person capable of making me feel so safe and so exposed at the same time?

Until today I hadn't given another thought that Claire might end up with anybody other than the father of her child. But even the slightest reminder of that possibility left me terrified of losing something that was never mine in the first place. Something that potentially might not ever be mine.

"Everything still intact over there?" asked the same person I'd been hopelessly staring at, reminding me of the reality where I'd been caught doing just that.

"Oh, fuck. Yeah. Sorry." I mumbled, turning back to work. "Just tired."

"Maybe that's why you're so cranky today," I heard her tease from across the baskets. I couldn't see the smirk, but I knew it was there.

"Fuck off," I scoffed. "Just a lot on my mind."

"Yeah? Like what?" I heard Claire click her tongue when my response wasn't fast enough. "Come on, I feel like I have a right to hear your frustrations since I'm the one you decided to take it out on."

"There's a lot," I groaned without moving my eyes from my basket.

Claire let out a drawn-out sigh. "Okay? Then just pick one thing."

So I decided to pick the thing furthest from my jealousy pity party. "I, uh…. I think I might move in with Gramps."

She immediately cocked her head at me, placing her hands on either side of her half-empty basket. "What? Really?"

"Yeah." I stopped and scratched at the back of my neck, trying to give time to gauge Claire's reaction. "He's got the extra room, and he offered it to me a while back."

Luckily, she just seemed genuinely curious about it all. "So… you haven't given him an answer yet, though?"

"No… I mean, I think I'm gonna. It makes sense." My idle hands went to fix my hat as I searched for the words. "Just… I feel like if I give him an answer about that, I have to give him an answer about my mom."

We hadn't talked about my mom since I'd first brought up telling her, but I could tell by the recognition in Claire's face that she remembered.

"You don't have to do anything." Claire's words were stern but somehow comforting.

"Feels like I do, though," I admitted, finally giving in to the opportunity to get it all off my mind. "And I'd have to tell Ann and Doug that I'm moving out, and I can't imagine that'll be pretty. Which means I'll probably have to tell Doug about… us."

Claire took a long inhale and swallowed. "I get why you're stressed. It's a lot to be thinking about."

"It's a lotta people to think about." I was already self-conscious enough; I had to tear my eyes away from hers. "A lotta people to let down…."

"I get that, but…." I could still feel her staring at me, though. "At the end of the day, you need to do what's best for you, y'know? And for the future."

"Yeah…" While I agreed with the sentiment, actually doing that seemed selfish. Surely more selfish than I was allowed to be.

She looked down at her lap with a sad smile. "I think considering other people's feelings is hard sometimes."

"That's the truth." I brought my hands up to my face and pressed along my jaw to relieve the pressure. "I've already made myself feel like ass because of shit that hasn't even happened yet."

Claire surprisingly chuckled at that. "At least you're thinking about it beforehand," she offered with a shrug. "Like, usually I don't even think about how what I'm doing might affect people until after it's been done." She stopped and shot me a brief, serious look. "That's one of the things I'm working on, though."

"Yeah, guess we have that one in common," I attempted to reassure her. We had a lot in common in that regard.

"Yeah." The subtle smile returned to her lips with a snort. Maybe it was an acknowledgment of moving past the heaping pile of bullshit that'd happened between us, or perhaps I was just looking too much into it. "I think that's one of the reasons I like having you around. I have to actually think about your feelings."

I just didn't expect Claire to say that.

"Uh… thanks?" I didn't have the slightest clue how to interpret it either.

"I… I'm trying to be nice," Claire explained with a bit more frustration in her voice despite her smile. "This is me trying to be your friend, like, for real."

I thought we were friends 'like, for real' already. So in my confusion, all I could get out was a breathy, "Okay?"

Some kind of laugh-groan hybrid caught me off guard. "I… I actually sometimes like being able to rely on you, y'know? And so I'm trying to make sure I'm a good friend to you too."

But my shocked silence only made Claire's voice grow more agitated. "Like, all I'm saying is that I care about your feelings. And having you around just reminds me. Does that make sense?" She made a scoff-like noise and shook her head before I could respond. "You must think I sound crazy."

"I mean… yeah. I get it, I think," I was finally able to push out. "Doesn't make you sound not crazy. But that's ok, too."

"I just don't want you to think I don't like hanging out with you or having you around… especially after earlier." I couldn't tell if my reassurance worked based on the remaining creases in Claire's forehead. "Like, yeah, I don't always need your help, but… I know there will probably be a time when I do." Then she looked down to her lap, messing with the collar of her shirt. "And it's nice to have somebody to hang out with that just… gets it. It helps me, y'know?"

While it was a rush of words, I could tell they weren't easy for Claire to say out loud. I just wanted her to understand how much I related to them.

"It helps me too…." I said softly into the silence. "Bein' over here."

The corners of her lips curled up. "Yeah?"

Even though I didn't want to risk disappointing that face, I knew I had to keep my word to Ann.

"I don't, uh… think about drinkin' as much when I'm here."

"And that was something you were struggling with." I expected those words to be a question, but there was a certainty to them that made my heart drop.

"Uh… yeah?" I guess it wasn't much of a secret, but Claire's awareness still had me reeling.

"Well, I mean, it wasn't hard to miss if you know what you're looking for," Claire explained with surprising casualness. "I kinda caught on pretty quick, but I didn't realize how deep it was until Kai's."

"That was a bad day." Bad was a nice way of putting it. In fact, I actually hated thinking about that day in any capacity.

"Yeah." Claire held my gaze for only a second before sighing. "I remembered being so frustrated with you because you, like, passed out drunk as shit in front of the fire, and I was thinking to myself like, is this really who I'm going to do this with?"

I wanted to be mad, but really that just hurt. I wouldn't want to be stuck with someone like that, either.

"Yeah…" I swallowed and reached for my hat. "Wasn't my best look."

Claire cringed and dropped her head in an instant. "Shit, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that." Her head shot back up. "I don't actually feel that way—I was just in a bad place. Like, I knew there was always good in you, and now it's really starting to show! I can tell you've been working on it, and it makes me ashamed for ever thinking that about you."

"Oh." An apology and high praise? I wasn't sure what to do with that, as good as it made me feel. "Well, uh, thanks."

"So, how long has it been?" I was secretly thankful Claire had shifted the conversation.

"Not since Kai left."

"That's awesome, really!" she sang across the baskets.

But commending me for that seemed so silly. "It's not much, but… gotta start somewhere."

"It's something worth being proud of," Claire insisted with a smile. "I admire you for that."

"You do?" I had to blink a few times to ensure I didn't imagine all this.

"I know what it's like to struggle with those kinds of… problems." Claire finally moved her attention back to the tomatoes in front of her as her volume lowered. "And you wanting to be better… It makes me want to be better too."

It wasn't the first time Claire had alluded to her own struggles, but I was more curious than ever. "Those kinds of problems?"

"Yeah, drinking was never a big one for me, but y'know, like, other things." She didn't even look at me as she dropped a few tomatoes in a crate. "Cutting out coffee has been especially shitty lately, but I guess I've had to deal with worse."

"Oh." Coffee wasn't all that bad, but I was so interested in what her definition of 'worse' could be. Whatever it was, she didn't seem too keen on sharing the details.

"But I guess what I'm trying to say is I'm happy for you," Claire continued, interrupting my thoughts, "and I'm here if you need somebody."

At first, I was speechless. Relief was an understatement. Not only did Claire see me, but she accepted me too. The real me. And she still wanted me around. It almost seemed too good to be true—as if something like this would actually happen to somebody like me. But it was.

I couldn't believe I'd ever wanted her to leave me alone.

"Thanks." I swallowed, trying not to give away too much emotion in my voice. "Likewise."

I got a smile in response before Claire was sucked back into the task. As the comfortable silence settled over us again, I did the same. Everything about the moment felt right, like something out of the romance novels I'd begrudgingly read off of Mary's recommendation. The air felt perfect and still as the sun grazed the tips of the mountain tops, giving the land around us a golden glow.

Sometimes being at Claire's didn't feel real, and today was no exception. I had to glance over just to make sure she was still there after I'd blinked. And there she was, reaching for the last full basket between us. With a little less than half of my tomatoes remaining, I had to shake myself back to reality and finish it off.

I instinctively looked to Claire when I'd finished, but she didn't notice. Her unblinking eyes were fixed below, lips pursed, and hands moving quickly. She seemed utterly oblivious to the fact that I was still there, and I wasn't sure if she wanted me to help with hers or if I'd just get in her way.

So I called her name a few times and pretended to be shocked when she didn't react. And that's when the idea came.

I glanced over to the crate of deformed tomatoes and snatched a small, overripe tomato so bruised it was almost entirely brown. I figured out of all of the tomatoes, it could be wasted without too much complaint. But even better, it'd be perfect for payback—I'd just throw it, so it lands and explodes right in front of her. Just enough to get her attention… and get her back for earlier.

I had to fight a smile as I called her name one more time for good measure before tossing the tomato.

When that same tomato overshot the landing and exploded on Claire's shoulder, the impulse to smile immediately vanished. That definitely got her attention, and my blood froze as her wide eyes flickered between me and where she'd been hit. She slowly moved a hand to wipe red sludge from her chin and down her neck, scowling as she ran the same hand across her pants.

"I… I actually cannot believe you just did that," Claire said with a breathy laugh, shaking her head. The red remnants I noticed hanging in the strands of her hair only worried me more.

"No, no, no, I—That was an accident," the words nervously poured out of my mouth. "You didn't answer, and I wanted to get you back, but not—"

I stopped when I realized Claire wasn't listening. She was too busy doing double-takes between me and the basket in front of her.

And then her hands went trifling into the basket. "You're going to regret doing that." She slowly pushed to her feet armed with a larger tomato, and the imminence of the situation clicked.

"Claire…." I started, feeling myself begin to inch back. "We're already even." I wasn't too confident in my attempt to stop her, so I was clambering to my feet anyway.

"No. You got me in the face," Claire insisted sharply, following my movements. "Tomato for tomato."

Based on the menacing smirk that followed, I didn't waste a single fucking second booking it south through her field, dodging the intermittent greens poking through the earth.

A tomato flew after me but landed short and splashed in the dirt. Claire turned back to the crates to re-up, and I used the time to increase the distance between us. I was definitely faster than her; I just had to tire her out till she gave up. But I wasn't sure if she'd even give up then.

I was catching my breath beside the coop when I saw her running through the field towards me. Just like that, I was back in action, heading north past the apple trees. With mere seconds to consider my next move, I decided I needed to arm myself with another tomato before Claire caught up.

I almost smiled to myself as I hurried closer to the baskets. Even though my pulse matched my frenzied steps, there was no denying that I was enjoying myself. And the breeze through my hair felt surprisingly refreshing. But then my hands flew up in realization, only to comb through my newly exposed head. So I slid to a stop, hoping it was still close by.

A flash of red whizzed past my face as I snapped around to see Claire standing beside my abandoned hat in the grass. I was about to laugh when I felt a second tomato smack into my cheek.

And for some fucking reason, Claire gasped. "Oh shit." She brought her hands up to cover her mouth before bursting out in laughter.

Even though I was wiping tomato goo off my face, I was fighting a laugh too. I couldn't remember the last time I'd had so much fun doing something so stupid.

"Alright," I said with an exhale, wiping the remaining pieces I could feel sliding down my face. "Now we're even."

I rubbed my eyes and glanced back at Claire for affirmation, but there she was, picking up my hat from the ground like she hadn't heard me.

"So, hand over the hat."

Claire pursed her lips in mock thought. "Hmm. I think I like you better without it." She twirled the hat in her hands before flipping it onto her head. "I may just keep it. I think it suits me better." Then she rotated the bill around to the back, and I thought I might die inside.

I took a step closer, hoping she didn't have any more secret tomatoes stashed. "Fuckin' hilarious. Now give it."

"Come and get it then," she snickered before taking off in the opposite direction.

I couldn't help it. I was chasing after Claire without a second thought. She tried to outrun me, juke me out around the chicken's enclosure, but she couldn't hide in that empty field. There was no way she genuinely thought she was faster than me, but she kept running anyway.

I'm sure one of the many downsides to pregnancy included limited endurance, so I was able to take advantage of Claire's slowing steps when her breathing picked up. Maybe she thought she could stop and stock up on tomato ammo, but I caught up to her as she was crouching by the baskets. Defensive hands went up to block me, but I quickly restrained them with one hand and snatched the hat with the other.

When I stepped to the side to return the hat to its rightful place, sudden weight against my back almost knocked the wind out of me. Claire hung off my back by one arm around my shoulder, the other wildly trying to keep up with my dodging head.

Suddenly aware of the fact that I couldn't let her fall, I gripped the legs she'd loosely wrapped around my waist and leaned forward to avoid her hands reaching my head. I really didn't want to surrender my hat anymore, but I wasn't quite sure how to let Claire down without just dropping her.

A squirming Claire finally reached the bill of my hat and ripped it off while dismounting my back in one motion. I turned to capture her wrist and the hat while she was mid-lunge and only ended up yanking all of her weight into my chest. From the momentum of the collision alone, we were falling before I could even do anything to stop it.

Every ounce of air left my lungs as my back slammed into the grass. I got a glimpse of my hat and Claire's hands bracing the ground as she caught herself above me with a gasp. My body resisted the same breath it desperately needed, and for a few moments, all I could do was wince. Then I heard Claire mumble something above me.

"You ok?" I finally managed after my first struggled breath.

"Holy shit, yeah, are you?" she asked breathlessly, hovering over me on her hands and knees. "You broke my entire fall."

I could only nod my head once before leaning it back onto the grass. Too busy trying to catch my breath, I didn't even realize how close Claire's face was getting to mine until I felt strands of long hair tickling my cheeks. I opened to dark, concerned eyes investigating me and glanced down to see her straddling my hips. That sent my pulse into a fucking frenzy.

"You're sure?" was all I heard Claire say before squeezing my eyes shut. I was stupid to think that would help when I could still feel her on top of me.

Now I was fighting to take one full breath, which probably did absolutely nothing to stop Claire from worrying. I just needed her off of me before I got any stupid ideas.

"I–I'm good." I coughed out. "Promise. You win."

After a sigh of relief, Claire just smiled victoriously above me. She pulled back but didn't make an effort to get to her feet.

I knew I should try to get up, but I didn't. That close, I couldn't help just staring, tracing the curve of her bottom lip when she smiled like that. For someone always so cold and calloused, her lips looked soft… warm… and extremely off-limits. And as wrong as it was, I couldn't stop myself from wondering anyway. All I could think about was how easy it would be to sit up and find out for myself.

"Hey, Claire, I'm here ta—" a deep voice bellowed before abruptly cutting short. "Uh, is this a bad time?"

Both our heads snapped towards Zack, standing wide-eyed at the property entrance beside his wagon.

Claire scrambled to her feet, and I reactively sat up to make sure she stayed upright. Which, thankfully, she did. After steadying herself, Claire dropped the hat in my lap and stepped over me like it was nothing. As she hustled over to Zack, a long string of apologies accompanied her.

I finally pushed to my feet as Zack began packing his cart with the contents of Claire's shipping bin. My slow steps wandered towards them, unsure if I should go over and help. Naturally, I stopped a few feet away when Zack noticed me and awkwardly watched instead.

Zack glanced back at me a few more times as he loaded up. The two of us were acquaintances at best, but I'd never seen him scrutinize me with such intensity. At first, I thought he expected me to come help—and truthfully, I was already kicking myself for just standing around. But then I noticed how his eyes continued to flicker between Claire and me, which somehow left me more self-conscious than ever.

An eternity likely passed before Zack finally called, "Alright, well, you two enjoy the rest of your day, then." And I was free to look up from my shameful spot in the grass.

Claire called a goodbye after him, followed by another long ramble of thank yous and apologies. It wasn't until Zack had disappeared north that she turned back to me, more flushed than before.

"Goddess, that was so embarrassing," Claire laughed, bringing her hands to cover her rosy cheeks.

"Yeah," I agreed, still watching her behavior closely. There was no way Claire hadn't noticed me eying the fuck out of her—was she just going to ignore it?

"Zack already thinks I'm something else," she continued with a sigh. "I'm sure that did nothing to help my case."

So I decided if Claire wasn't going to say anything about it, neither would I. "At least he wasn't watchin' you torment me with tomatoes."

She threw her head back with another chuckle. "Yeah. And you're sure you still want to come over and help after today?"

Absolutely fucking yes was my gut reaction, but I knew I had to play it down with some sarcasm. "Yeah, fuck, I dunno if I'm down to pick tomato guts off me every day."

"Oh, don't worry, it won't always be tomatoes," Claire bantered back. "This season's crops are much hardier. I might actually knock you out next time around."

I laughed in partial relief that she was still smiling. "In that case, I'm in. But you better watch your back."

Claire let out a heavy exhale and glanced towards the setting sun, then back to me. "Thanks again for your help today." She crossed her arms and dramatically sighed. "Even though you wasted my tomatoes, I had a lot of fun."

"You wasted more than me," I reminded her with a smirk. "But yeah… same."

"Ahhh, well, y'know, normally I'd invite you to stay for dinner, but I need to wash all the tomato off me, and you kinda smell like sweaty marinara…." I had to fight the urge to confirm the insult. "But dinner tomorrow?"

"Uh, yeah. Guess I'll see ya then." It felt weird leaving Claire's so early now, while it was still light out. But she was right. I definitely needed a shower ASAP. "Have a good night."

I turned to head to the inn, but a gentle tug on the back of my shirt stopped my steps. When I peered over my shoulder, round blue eyes had me set in their sights.

"Sorry, I meant to ask earlier…." Claire dropped her hand to her side as she rocked on her feet. "If you're not busy before the Harvest Festival, do you think you could come over before and help me out?"

I turned back to her. "Help you out?"

"I have a ton of stuff I need to lug to the square in the morning, and I was just thinking maybe you could help me out, y'know?" She seemed to catch herself, hastily adding, "If you're not busy with work! If not, don't worry about it, I just thought—"

"I'll talk to Gramps," I had to interrupt the rambling before she got too far. "Usually, we mine, but I'll see if I can move some shit around."

"Really?" I wasn't expecting Claire to be so excited at that, but now she was beaming at me. "You mean it?"

"Uh, yeah." I swallowed the lump in my throat and stuck my hands in my pockets. "No guarantee, but I'm sure if I tell him it's to help you, he'll work with me."

As soon as the words left my mouth, Claire launched forward and wrapped her arms around my waist. "Ah! You're the best, Gray!" she cheered into my shirt, giving me a tight squeeze despite the red stains and apparent stench.

I exhaled the breath I didn't realize I'd been holding in and snaked my arms around her shoulders. And even though I knew I shouldn't, I tightened my grip around the one person who thought I was the best. I wanted to hold on to her, this moment, as long as she'd let me.

I really liked being the best. Sure, I knew I wasn't. But being with her, especially like this, made me feel like I could be.

And that familiar feeling scared me the most.