No flutter in my chest. No warmth spreading through my body. No spark of attraction or excitement, or even basic interest. Just bone-deep exhaustion. The kind that settled into my marrow and made everything feel heavy.
“Fine,” I breathed, the word slipping out before I could stop it, before I could think it through or consider what I was agreeing to. The weight of their stares, the pressure of their expectations, the sheer tiredness of fighting this battle over and over—it all crashed down on me at once. “I’ll go on a date with you, Angel.”
The table erupted in an explosion of noise and celebration.
“Hell yeah!” Trigger shouted, slapping the table so hard the silverware jumped and clattered against the plates.
“About damn time!” Ashe crowed, pumping his fist in the air like he had just won the lottery.
Bongo grinned wide, showing all his teeth, and clapped Angel on the shoulder hard enough to make him rock forward in his seat. “See? Told you persistence pays off, brother. Knew she’d come around, eventually.”
Angel looked up at me, his dark eyes wide with surprise and something that looked like hope. Genuine, vulnerable hope that made my chest tighten. “Really? You’re serious?”
I nodded, forcing a small smile despite the nervous flutter in my stomach. “Really. Now let me get your coffee before you guys scare off the rest of my customers with all this carrying on.”
I turned and walked away, ignoring the whoops and laughter and celebratory chatter behind me, weaving between tables and heading straight for the coffeepot behind the counter.
My hands were shaking as I poured. The dark liquid wavered slightly as it streamed into the mug. I took a deep breath, steadying myself, trying to calm the anxious hammering of my heart.
Chapter Eight
Hope
The rest of the week flew by in a blur of work and avoidance. Double shifts at the diner, extra hours at the farmers’ market booth, anything to keep my mind occupied and my hands busy.
Faith watched me carefully all week, her eyes tracking my movements like she was waiting for me to break. But I didn’t break. I couldn’t afford to. I had a date on Saturday, and I was going to go through with it, and I was going to be fine.
I was going to befine.
Saturday arrived with bright sunshine and a warm breeze that smelled like spring. Fresh grass and wildflowers and the promise of new beginnings. Standing in front of my closet, I stared at the meager selection of clothes hanging there and felt a wave of panic wash over me.
I had absolutely no idea what to wear.
I didn’t even know where Angel was taking me, which only made my anxiety worse. Was this a casual date? A fancy date? Should I dress up or dress down? Did I even own anything that qualified as “date clothes”?
I sat down on the edge of my bed and reached for my phone, my thumb hovering over Angel’s contact. I wanted to text him. Wanted to tell him I had made a mistake, that I wasn’t ready, that I needed to cancel. But then I remembered the look in his eyes at the diner. That genuine, vulnerable hope. The way his face had lit up when I had said yes. The months he had spent patiently waiting, never pushing, always kind.
I couldn’t do that to him.
It’s only one date,I told myself firmly, setting the phone back down.One date. You can do this.
I went with simple: a white flowy top with delicate lace trim at the sleeves, a pair of faded blue jeans that actually fit well, and my most comfortable boots—brown leather, worn soft from years of use. I didn’t have any makeup to put on, so I skipped that entirely. My long hair went up into a high ponytail, a few loose strands framing my face.
It would have to do.
I took one last look in the mirror, smoothed down my top, and headed for the living room.
The scene I walked into was pure chaos.
Zeke stood in the middle of the room, his arms crossed tightly over his chest, glaring at Faith, Charity, and Joy like they had personally betrayed him in the worst possible way. His dark eyes were stormy. His entire posture rigid with barely contained fury. Joan sat in the rocking chair by the window, rolling her eyes and shaking her head as she tried—and failed—to talk sense into him. And she was clearly losing patience.
“They are allowed to have a life, Shadow,” Joan stated calmly, though there was an unmistakable edge of exasperation creeping into her voice. She leaned forward slightly, as if trying to make him see reason through sheer force of will.
“Not until I’m dead!” Zeke shot back, his jaw tight and his voice hard as steel. He didn’t even look at Joan when he said it. His eyes were fixed on us like my sisters were criminals in a lineup.
I knew exactly what this was about. I had been expecting it all week, ever since word got around about my date with Angel. Zeke had a sixth sense for this kind of thing, and apparently, the thought of any of his sisters going out with someone made him lose his mind.
I walked in front of my sisters protectively and glared up at my brother, planting my hands firmly on my hips. “I’m allowed to date, Ezekiel. We all are. Hell, Charity ismarriedto Nevil.” I gestured toward Charity, who stood behind me with her arms folded, looking equally annoyed.