Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 83216 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83216 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Sunlight pours through the front windows, catching on glass jars filled with pastel macarons and chocolate-dipped biscotti. Behind the counter, Callie slides a tray of muffins into the display case. Her hair is pinned up and her cheeks are flushed with effort. The place feels just like it always does. Bright, welcoming, and full of life, but today it feels quieter somehow.
Calmer.
There’s something different about mornings now.
They’re lighter.
Maybe even a little easier.
Almost as if the static in my head has finally quieted and I can just… be.
Lilah and Sloane have already claimed our usual corner table, their cups half-empty and a plate of crumbs between them. Kia sits with her mug cradled in both hands, her cheeks still flushed from the cold.
“Finally!” Sloane waves me over. “We were just about to send out a search party to find you.”
“Or we could’ve asked Oliver to check her location,” Lilah teases.
“Sorry.” I slide into the empty chair beside Kia. “I had to dodge a reporter on the way over. Apparently dating Oliver Van Doren qualifies as breaking news.”
Lilah hides a grin behind her herbal tea. “Sounds like one of the hazards of falling for a Railer.”
Kia shakes her head, a small smile playing around her lips. “I don’t know how you do it, having people constantly ask about your relationship.”
“Noise-canceling headphones help,” I say dryly.
Their laughter fills the bakery. It’s the kind of sound that seeps into your bones and reminds you that some things, and people, are worth holding on to.
For a long time, I didn’t realize how much I needed this. The belonging. The quiet kind of safety that comes from being surrounded by people who see the real you, not just the put-together version you portray to the world.
Callie joins us, wiping her hands on her apron before setting down a plate of still-warm cookies that almost look too pretty to eat.
“Emergency sugar therapy,” she says with a grin. “On the house.”
“Bless you.” Sloane snags one before the plate can fully land on the table.
Conversation flows as easily as it always does—fast, overlapping, and full of laughter. We jump from weddings to nursery décor to who makes the best coffee at home. Lilah claims Steele can replicate her exact order, which earns a groan from Sloane. I confess Oliver still can’t figure out the espresso machine, and Callie turns pink when we point out that River happens to need a kiss after every morning skate.
She rolls her eyes, but her smile gives her away.
It’s an ordinary morning, made up of small moments that add up to something more. Sitting here, surrounded by them, I realize just how much my world has changed. Maybe that’s why I love this place so much. It reminds me that no matter how loud life gets, everyone needs somewhere that feels like a safe harbor.
Kia laughs along with us, but there’s something quieter beneath it, as if her mind is somewhere else. Every so often, her hand drifts to her stomach. It’s a subtle, barely-there gesture, but I notice. When she catches me watching, she offers a small smile, gratitude flickering in her eyes before looking away.
I return the expression, a silent vow that her secret’s safe with me. Warmth passes between us, yet worry prickles beneath it. She’s trying so hard to be brave, to act like she has it all under control, but there’s fear behind her eyes. And it makes me want to protect her with everything I have.
The door opens and the quiet thud of shoes against tile pulls my attention before the bell even finishes chiming. A gust of wind rushes in, carrying the familiar chill of a Chicago autumn.
The shift in the bakery is instant as Steele, River, Oliver, and Laiken stroll in. It’s like someone changed the radio station and the air picked up a new beat. Conversations dip, then start again. The guys draw that kind of attention even when they aren’t trying to.
Steele spots us first, gaze zeroing in on Lilah, and crosses the room, his grin easy and infectious. River presses a kiss against Callie’s temple, stealing a cookie on his way. Oliver slides behind me, his hand finding my waist, his lips grazing my temple.
The world narrows to that single, familiar touch. For a long time, I used to tense when people looked at us. Now, I don’t care who’s watching.
Across the table, Kia goes still as her gaze settles on the Railers’ goalie.
“Laiken,” Callie says, breaking the quiet with the teasing warmth in her tone. “Nice to see you. It’s been a while.”
He lifts his hand to rub the back of his neck, a small, self-conscious gesture. “Yeah. I thought I’d pick something up for my daughter.”
Sloane exhales dramatically. “Oh my God, that’s so sweet.”
Kia’s brows lift slightly. “You have a daughter?”
“Elody,” I tell her with a smile. “She’s four years old and already has the whole hockey team wrapped around her finger.”