Page 125 of Well That Happened

Lexi freezes mid-sip. “You mean Fletcher? Your super-fragile, ultra-protective, formerly-bestie-with-Hunter, Fletcher?”

I nod. Slowly.

Her eyes widen. “Does he know you’re sleeping with a couple of his ex-teammates?”

“Nope.”

“Does he know two of them have seen you naked?”

“Absolutely not.”

She cackles. “Oh girl. You are insomuch trouble.”

“I know,” I groan. “I just—I panicked. He called and he seemed so excited. The idea of him picking up on something, which let’s be honest, he will pick up on something and then a fight breaking out in the living room is a very real fear. Or who the hell knows, maybe Hunter will come right out and tell him. Either way, I’m doomed.”

Lexi’s already pulling out her phone. “I need to stock up on popcorn. And possibly film the next few days for science.”

“Lex—”

“You’ve got a house full of secrets, an incoming sibling explosion, and enough unresolved tension to power the national grid. This is better than Netflix.”

I groan again, burying my face in my hands.

Because she’s right.

And I have no idea how I’m going to survive his visit.

“What are you doing for Thanksgiving, by the way?” she asks.

“Just sticking around…hopefully load up on carbs. What about you?”

Lexi hums into her drink. “Both of my parents’ houses—separately. It’s a whole thing.”

I nod slowly, then toy with the edge of my napkin. “At least you’ve got two to go to.”

She glances at me, frowning slightly. “Ri…”

I wave it off, trying for a casual shrug that doesn’t quite land. “It’s fine. I mean, my mom’s gone. I don’t even know where my dad is. Fletcher’s in rehab. So… you know. Me and microwave mashed potatoes. A Hallmark movie if I’m feeling festive.”

Lexi’s face softens, the kind of look that says she knows what I’m doing—dodging the ache with sarcasm. “You could come with me.”

“Thanks, but I’ve done the divorced holiday tour before. All tension and gluten-free stuffing and awkward step-uncles asking if I’m dating anyone.” I smile tightly. “Hard pass.”

She nods. Doesn’t push. Just lets it breathe.

The music from the bar swells, and around us, the world keeps moving. But I’m stuck in this little pocket of stillness, this hollow reminder that some people have places to go. People who notice when they’re missing.

“I used to love the holidays,” I admit, voice quieter now. “When we were younger, me and Fletch would always sneak extra rolls and try to beat each other at the wishbone thing. I didn’t care if the rest of the day was a mess. As long as we were together, it felt… like something.”

We’d always eat too much and he’d beg me to play touch football in the backyard. I would, and then I’d end up hurt.

Lexi reaches across the table and squeezes my hand.

And that’s when it hits me.

A small idea. A maybe.

“What if…” I trail off, already nervous. “What if I cooked something? For the guys. If they’re staying. We could do, like, a fake Thanksgiving. Or a real one. I don’t know.”

---