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“Yup. There’s footage. The internet is forever.”

I’m laughing so hard I nearly drop my slice. He’s grinning at me like he can’t believe this is real, and maybe I can’t either.

Because somehow, even after everything, it’seasyagain. The kind of easy you don’t fake. The kind you fall into without meaning to. Like we’ve been doing this for years.

I look at him—really look at him—and the warmth in my chest isn’t just about pizza or banter or tuba-based trauma.

It’s him.

Still him.

Maybe always him.

Chapter Thirty-Six

Third Wheel with Paws

Chase

I don’t want the night to end. That’s all I can think about as I watch Scarlett across the table.

She’s smiling, debating another slice of pizza, and I’m dangerously close to convincing myself I haven’t completely wrecked things between us.

We’ve been bickering for over an hour—about pizza toppings, about which Ninja Turtle has the best energy (it’s obviously Raphael), about how I fold my pizza like a tourist—and somehow, it’s perfect. Easy. Familiar.

She wipes her hands on a napkin and leans back, stretching. “Alright. That hit the spot. My heart’s still broken, but at least I’m full.”

I grin. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted to hear from a woman.”

She rolls her eyes, but she’s not pushing away anymore. Not like before.

I take a breath. “You wanna come over?”

Her brows lift slightly. “Subtle.”

I fight off a laugh becauseof courseshe calls me on my terrible line. But instead of backing down, I lean into it. “It’s late. We’re both riding the high of surviving pineapple pizza trauma.”

She doesn’t say anything, so I go for the real hook.

“Plus, Rip misses you.”

That gets her.

“Oh,Ripmisses me?”

I nod solemnly. “Hasn’t stopped whining since you left. Practically watchedThe Notebookwithout me last night.”

She smirks, but there’s something warm in her eyes now. “Yeah, I wouldn’t want to deprive your emotionally needy dog.”

“So that’s a yes?”

She shrugs, but it’s playful. “Let’s go before I remember I’m supposed to be mad at you.”

I try not to smile as we slide out of the booth.

My place is dark when we enter, and I immediately hear the soft jingle of Rip’s collar as he trots out to greet her like she’s been gone for a year.

Iflip on the kitchen light.