Tristan approached the front door carefully, one step at a time, shoulders squared but not tense. I stayed back near the kitchen, close enough that I could see him, far enough that I wouldn’t be in the way if he wasn’t alone and things went sideways.
My pulse was already too fast.
The door opened.
It wasn’t Beau.
“Is she here?” Austin asked.
The sound of his voice hit me like a release valve I hadn’t realized I was holding shut.
“Yeah,” Tristan said, stepping aside.
Austin was across the room in seconds.
He didn’t hesitate. He didn’t ask. He just wrapped his arms around me and pulled me into his chest like he needed to feel that I was solid, that I was actually here. I let myself lean into it, the tension in my spine finally easing a notch.
“How did you know I wasn’t still at Beau
