Page 70 of Pack Plus One

“Not like me.” Jude pulls at a loose thread on his sleeve. “I’m always pushing boundaries. It’s what I do. But this time...”

“This time it mattered,” Mason finishes.

Jude nods, his usual bravado stripped away. “She matters.”

Heavy footsteps announce Caleb’s arrival. He stands in the doorway, shoulders tense, expression closed off. Even from here, I can smell the dark chocolate of his scent turned bitter with regret.

“Someone has to fix this,” he says without preamble.

“How?” Jude asks. “She made it pretty clear she wants nothing to do with us.”

Caleb’s jaw works. “We apologize. Properly. No gifts, no stunts, no expectations. Just the truth.”

“And then what?” I ask. “Pretend none of this happened? Go back to being strangers?”

“Then we respect whatever she decides,” Caleb says. His jaw tightens, the muscle ticking visibly beneath his skin. “Even if that means walking away.”

The four of us sit in silence, the weight of our mistakes pressing down. Finally, I stand, decision made.

“I’ll go,” I say. “Tomorrow.”

Jude raises an eyebrow. “Why you?”

“Because I didn’t send her pornographic vegetables, stalk her at her bakery, or force her to kiss me.”

Mason snorts softly. “Fair point.”

“I didn’t force her.” Caleb’s jaw tightens some more. Then he releases a breath. “You go just to apologize.” He meets my gaze. “Nothing more.”

I nod. “Nothing more.”

Her building smells of lemon cleaner and her elderly neighbor’s rose perfume when I arrive the next afternoon. I’ve rehearsed what to say at least twenty times on the drive over—a sincere apology, no excuses, no pressure.

Simple. Straightforward. Respectful.

My heart hammers against my ribs as I knock on her door, the sound sharp in the quiet hallway.

No answer.

I wait, counting to thirty in my head before knocking again, a little softer this time.

Still nothing.

Fuck.

She’s not home. Or she’s ignoring me. Both are valid, given how we behaved.

Goddamnit. What now?

I’m about to leave when I hear it—a shuffle of feet on the other side of the door. Then, softer, the hitch of a breath.

She’s there.

“Leah?” I call gently. “It’s Liam.”

Silence stretches between us, broken only by the soft sounds of movement behind the door.

“I’m not here to push,” I continue, keeping my voice low and even. “I just wanted to apologize for last night. For all of it.”

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