“It’s okay.” I sound more chipper than I feel. “I’ll make it work. Feel better.”

“Thank you.” Another pause, “I’m lucky to have you,” he says before hanging up.

I drop my phone on the couch, and my head falls back.

What am I going to do?

Tears rim my eyes as the anxiety begins to overwhelm me. I’m dialing Declan before I can think about the decision.

He answers on the second ring. “Hi, Addie,” he purrs, the sound a deep timbre that vibrates my bones. “I was just thinking about you.”

“You were?”

He must hear the tremble in my voice because he says, “What’s wrong?”

“Ben. Stomach flu. Nora.”

The words are choked and incomprehensible.

“Addie, baby, breathe.” I take a deep breath, pulling air into my lungs and forcing my pulse to settle. He takes a breath on the other line, loud and meant to calm me. “Tell me what’s going on.”

“Ben can’t travel tomorrow, so I have to, but there’s no one to take care of Nora. That's why I don’t travel.”

The other end of the line is silent, then the call switches to FaceTime, and Declan appears on my screen, lying in bed with his arm behind his head. His hair is mussed, and there’s a pair of glasses perched on his nose, deepening the blue of his eyes.

I take a peek at myself in the corner of the screen, and I’ve seen better days. My hair is frizzy and sticking out of my ponytail. My eyes are red-rimmed and my cheeks are flushed.

“I wanted to see your face,” he admits, rolling onto his side. “I’ve missed seeing your smile.”

His pupils dilate, and his tongue darts out to wet his lips. I gulp, and the energy shifts.

We’ve barely seen each other at work. He’s been busy with team meetings and film, and I’ve been drowning in invoices and keeping my interns alive.

I offer him a watery smile.

“Stunning,” he murmurs. “I think I have a solution to your problem.”

“How?”

“Trust me?” I nod. “Prepare yourself.”

My brows crinkle, but I quickly understand his meaning when, one by one, his friends pop into the FaceTime call. Nathalie is in the kitchen, standing in front of the stove with Deon behind her, Sawyer is lying somewhere, her blonde hair fanned out below her, and Maren is surrounded by plants, a smudge of dirt on her face.

“We got the bat signal,” Maren says, wiping her brow and adding to the dirt on her face. “What did you need?”

“Is that Addie?” Nathalie asks, moving her face closer to the screen. “Hi!”

She’s thrown out of the view of the camera, and Deon appears.

“The cookies and cream ice cream recipe is your best work yet,” Deon says, shoving a scoop of ice cream in his mouth. “Think we could make it minty?”

“Disgusting toothpaste ice cream,” Nathalie grumbles, pushing him so they both fit in view.

Declan jumps in. “Addie is going to travel to Nashville with us tomorrow,” he says.

“Yes!” Deon cheers. “Sit by me on the plane. We have recipes to discuss.”

If all else goes to shit, at least I know Deon will always love me—as long as I continue to make smoothies and give him ice cream recipes.