He grins at me over her shoulder. “Watch me. Goodnight, Larry.”
Adrianna squeals, swatting at him halfheartedly as he carries her down the hallway.
“Hilary! Are you just gonna let him bully me?” Adrianna shouts, but she’s smiling and so am I.
“Yep. You love it when he bullies you,” I remind her.
“Ugh. You’re right. Okay, thanks for everything, Lar. I love you!” she calls.
“Love you more!” I shout back.
And just like that, it’s quiet.
Well.
Quieter.
A few lingering voices drift from the living room, Bella and her friends I think—but the party energy has faded into that soft end-of-night hum.
I turn back to the kitchen and start loading the dishwasher, stacking plates with mechanical precision.
Scrape. Rinse. Stack. Close.
Normal.
This is normal.
I can absolutely handle being in the same house as a global superstar without spiraling.
Totally fine.
The back door creaks open.
I freeze.
Footsteps.
Slow. Unhurried.
“Thought I’d bring this in before the birds get it.”
His voice slides into the room like warm whiskey.
I turn.
And there he is.
David.
Carrying the half-eaten cake like it’s some kind of peace offering.
He sets it on the counter carefully, glancing toward the backyard like he just saved it from imminent doom.
“Seemed like a shame to let good frosting go to waste.”
My mouth is suddenly dry.
“Heroic,” I manage.