The word still lands warm in my chest. Luke’s always treated me like I belong here. Fed me, checked in, never asked too many questions back when I was spending more time at this place than my own. I practically know this house inside out, right down to where he keeps the extra napkins and the good snacks he thinks no one knows about.
I step inside and to this day it still feels like I’m walking into something straight out of a magazine. There are light blue tiles in the kitchen, white walls, wooden beams stretching across the ceiling. Little details all around; paintings, mirrors, soft lamps tucked into corners, candles and stacks of books scattered around.
And then I spot Maddy at the counter, sleeves shoved up to her elbows as she pours chips into a collection of mismatched ceramic bowls. There are crumbs everywhere, on the counter, the floor, and there’s a growing pile of empty snack bags by the sink. Which is no surprise if Maddy is in the kitchen.
I lean against the doorframe, watching her move between cabinets. “Didn’t know you cooked.”
Her head snaps up at the sound of my voice. “Excuse you? I cook.”
I tilt my head, pretending to think. “Really? Because in all the years I’ve been coming here, I’ve seen you cook, like… two times. Maybe three.”
She opens her mouth to argue, then seems to think better of it. “I have other talents.”
I narrow my eyes. “Such as…?”
She grabs a kitchen towel and launches it straight at my face, but I catch it easily, laughing. She lets out a snort that weirdly reminds me of a cartoon character.
I push off the door and wander closer, reaching into one of the popcorn bowls, but her hand shoots out and smacks the back of mine.
“Geez,” I say, pulling away. “Not even a warning?”
She keeps sorting snacks like nothing happened. “You know the rules.”
I rest my elbows on the counter, watching as she opens another bag of chips and looks around for a bowl, but she just keeps turning back and forth in that slightly glitchy way she moves when she’s doing five things at once. A quiet laugh slips out of me.
She glances back at me. “Are you gonna help, or are you just gonna stand here?”
“Hey.” I point to myself. “I brought my presence.”
“Wow,” she says sarcastically. “Can you put that presence to work to grab wine and glasses and take them outside?”
“Yes, chef.”
I turn to the fridge and pull it open, grabbing a few bottles before reaching into the drawer by the dishwasher for glasses and stacking them carefully in one hand as I nudge the fridge shut with my foot. I walk through the backdoor onto the porch and spot Noah and Kiara moving furniture, like that scene from Friends, where Rachel and Chandler help Ross move a couch up the stairs.
“Careful!” Noah shouts to her, holding onto one end of the outdoor couch.
“I’m really strong, don't worry,” she responds back, putting the couch down next to the other one, creating almost a circle with a small table in the middle. They spot me the moment they come back up, putting their hands on their hips and letting out a big exhale.
“Hey,” they say in union.
“Hey.” I walk over to the little set up table where Mel and Liam are finishing the last things for their salad. Liam has a frown between his brows, cutting a cucumber with intense focus. Mel laughs softly while looking at him, her eyes glittering. She looks up when she hears me.
“Hi, Ry,” she says, and her words make Liam look up too, snapping out of his cucumber-cutting-focus. “Hey man.”
“Hey guys,” I say, while Mel stands up to grab the glasses out of my arms. “You’re late, almost thought you were gonna bail on us.”
“Wouldn't wanna miss your salad.”
She laughs softly and I pat Liam’s shoulder. “Man, you gotta be more precise,” I say. “That one slice is not the same size as the other.”
He rolls his eyes, smiling. “Good to see you too.”
“Is that wine?” Kiara pops up beside me as I put the wine bottle on the table.
“It is.”
She immediately reaches for the bottle. “You’re my favourite tonight.”