Page 166 of Disarm
“Seriously,” he murmurs. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” I say, and—shockingly—I am. Embarrassed, sure. “Kinda floaty. In a good way.”
Nudging my mug up, I take another sip. “Good floaty is allowed.”
I hop up onto the counter, legs swinging, watching him move around the kitchen.
“Big day today,” he says lightly. “Practice, then…” He lifts his brows. “Dr. Kaur?”
I groan. “Ugh… why’d you have to remind me?”
“It’s a good thing, baby,” he says. “She’s the one who keeps your brain from trying to kill you.”
“Fair.”
“And tomorrow,” he adds, sliding eggs and toast onto plates, “I see Dr. Ortega again.”
“How are you… feeling about that?” I ask, wrapping my hands around the mug.
He shrugs one shoulder, sets a plate beside me, and leans on the counter. “Honestly? Less like I’m walking into a firing squad and more like I’m taking my wiring panel into the shop.”
“That’s… progress?” I say.
“Yeah,” he admits. “I’m still not used to talking about myself for forty-five minutes. But he’s good. He calls me out on my shit.”
“Rude of him,” I say. “Only I’m allowed to do that.”
Miguel snorts. “You have priority, baby.”
We eat, plates balanced on our knees on the couch, some random sports show mumbling in the background. When my phone vibrates on the coffee table, I glance at it and freeze.
Dad
So spring break, are you and Miguel still planning to come up Saturday? Your stepmom is already planning menus. It’s like she’s preparing to feed an army.
Miguel glances at the screen, then at me, a question in his eyes.
“You don’t have to answer right now,” he says, reaching for my knee. “Eat first. Panic second.”
I huff out a breath that’s almost a laugh. “I swear it’s like you and Dr. Kaur collaborating.”
He grins. “She is my favorite co-conspirator.”
I stare at the text for another beat, then type, fingers only shaking a little.
Caleb
Yeah. We’re still coming. I’ll let you know what time.
Three dots appear almost immediately.
Dad
Sounds good. Looking forward to having you both at home.
Both.
The word used to feel casual and now feels like someone trying to thread a needle in the dark.
