Breaking the Grid

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I smacked her arm.

Harder than necessary, maybe.
But it wasn't a funny joke, and she knew it.

"Ow, Kyra!" Blair gasped, rubbing the spot with one hand, the other still lazily holding her drink. "That was uncalled for. I'm hilarious."

"It was not hilarious," I said, glaring at her through my blush as half the girls around us wheezed with laughter.

Katie nearly choked on her chips. "She said what?!"

Blair was smirking. That stupid, smug smirk that made me want to push her off the sofa and kiss her at the same time.

Before I could retaliate further, she leaned forward and casually slipped both arms around my waist, pulling me toward her until I was practically sitting in her lap.

"Don't be mad," she murmured into my ear. "It was a little funny."

"You're the worst," I whispered, trying not to melt as her lips brushed my temple.

"Mm, you still love me though."

Unfortunately, she was right.

We were still dressed from our afternoon walk—well, walk and minor chaos expedition. Calvin, Steph's dog, was still circling around the kitchen in search of dropped food. Myle had already passed out on the welcome rug like he owned the place. Milo? Fast asleep in the corner, curled in his usual spiral.

It had been nice, that walk.
Normal. Loud. Messy.
Laughing down the street with too many leashes in hand, all of us in beanies and oversized hoodies like a tired indie band. Vic tried to teach Milo to high-five. Everything felt like a movie I didn't want to stop playing.

And now we were here—back in Blair's house.

Her house.
Her big, open, beautifully hers house.

She'd invited everyone for a party tonight. Not a huge thing—just her usual version of "low-key," which still somehow included a stocked bar, perfect playlists, and enough food to feed the Arsenal women's squad and her entire neighborhood.

Because she's leaving soon.

Day after tomorrow, actually.

The words rang in my head like they had a timer attached.

She's leaving.
And I have a match. On the same day.

"You're really going to fly while I'm playing?" I asked quietly, my fingers fidgeting with the hem of her shirt where it bunched under my hand.

Her arms around me stilled slightly. But only for a second.

"I'll watch," she said. "When i arrive, if I have to."

"Not the same."

"I know."

She tucked her chin over my shoulder, breath warm against my neck.

I looked across the room. Our friends were still talking. Laughing. The dogs occasionally barked. Someone had started music again—soft, rhythmic. A pulsing little beat that made it feel like the house was breathing with us.

Everything looked perfect.

So why did it already feel like I missed her?

I stayed wrapped in her arms, trying to push the countdown out of my head.

Because tonight...
She was still here.
And I was still hers.
And that had to be enough.

"Hey!" Katie's voice cut through the room like a cannonball of chaotic Irish energy. "Loverbirds! Would ye two maybe try bein' a couple feet apart for, I dunno, five minutes?"