The words didn’t feel real.
“Perfect. We will be in contact via email. If you have any questions, please do not hesitate to reach out. Happy to have you as part of the team, Scarlett.”
I just sat there.
Phone pressed to my ear. Heart pounding so hard it was almost painful. Mouth slightly open, like if I breathed wrong, the whole thing would disappear and I’d find out I’d imagined it.
Then the line went dead.
The call had ended.
And still I didn’t move.
I stared at the dark screen of my phone, my reflection staring back at me in the glass with wide eyes and flushed cheeks, like she couldn’t quite believe it either.
I got it.
The thought hit me once, hard and bright.
Then again.
Then all at once.
“I got it,” I whispered, and my voice came out breathless, unsteady. “I got it.”
The room around me felt too small for it. Too quiet. Too normal.
I had spent weeks trying not to hope too hard. Trying not to build my life around a possibility that could vanish with one polite rejection email. I had replayed the interview in my head so many times I could practically recite my own answers. I had laid awake wondering if I’d smiled enough, if I’d sounded too nervous, if I’d said something stupid without realizing it.
And now—
Now I had the job.
A real job.
A paralegal position at Nikodem.
Not an internship. Not a maybe. Not a “we’ll keep your résumé on file.”
Mine.
“Scarlett?”
Sam’s voice broke through the haze, and I looked up to find him already half out of his chair, his brows drawn together in that way they always did when he was trying to read me.
“Well?” he asked.
I think I smiled before I even meant to. It just happened, bursting out of me too fast to contain.
“I got it.”
For half a second, Sam only stared at me. Then he broke into a grin.
“You got it?”
“I got it.”
He laughed, that warm, easy laugh of his, and in the next second he was crossing the room and pulling me into a hug so tight it nearly knocked the breath out of me.
“Oh my God,” he said into my hair. “Scarlett, I knew it. I told you. I told you.”
I laughed too, but it came out shaky, almost collapsing into something else entirely. Relief. Joy. Disbelief. I could feel tears pressing at the backs of my eyes, that awful embarrassing kind that came when you were so overwhelmingly happy your body didn’t know what to do with it.
I clutched the back of his shirt and squeezed my eyes shut.
“I hang up the phone and Sam grabs me and hugs me… I am so overwhelmingly happy I could cry.”
And I almost did.
The words from the call kept replaying in my head, over and over, like if I repeated them enough they might settle into something real. Happy to have you as part of the team, Scarlett.
A part of the team.
Me.
When I finally pulled back, Sam’s hands stayed warm on my arms, steadying me.
“There she is,” he said softly, smiling down at me. “Future hotshot paralegal.”
I let out a breathless laugh. “Don’t jinx it.”
“It’s not a jinx if they literally offered you the job.”
I pressed a hand over my mouth, still trying to contain the grin stretching across my face. “This feels insane.”
“This feels right.”
For a second I just looked at him. Sam had always had this way of saying things so simply they cut through all the noise in my head. Like the world was straightforward and kind and reasonable, and if I just slowed down long enough, I’d see it too.
Maybe that was part of why being with him felt so easy.
Maybe that was why I loved him.
The thought came quietly, familiar and soft.
Then a new one crashed right over it.
My family.
I had to tell them.
I grabbed Sam’s wrist without thinking. “Sam, can you drive me home?”
He blinked. “What?”
“I can’t wait to tell my family.” The words tumbled out of me fast, rushing over each other. “I need to tell them right now before I explode.”
His smile widened. “Yeah. Of course.”
I was already snatching up my bag and phone, adrenaline making everything inside me buzz. “Come on.”
Sam laughed under his breath as he followed me out. “You’re acting like they’re going to rescind the offer if you don’t announce it in the next ten minutes.”
“They might,” I shot back, and he rolled his eyes affectionately.
By the time we got to the car, I was barely thinking in full sentences.
I got it.
I got it.
I got it.
Everything outside the window blurred into meaningless streaks of green and gray as Sam drove. Houses. Trees. Mailboxes. Stop signs. None of it felt real. My mind kept jumping ahead—to my parents’ faces, to Liam’s reaction, to the way my mom would probably cry and my dad would do that proud smile he tried to play off like he wasn’t emotional.
I could already hear the questions.
When do you start?
Did they say what your hours would be?
Did you accept right away?
What exactly will you be doing?
And I wanted it. All of it. Every second.
Sam reached across the center console at a stoplight and squeezed my knee. “You’re vibrating.”
“I know.”
“It’s a little scary.”
“I know.”
He laughed again. “You’re cute when you’re losing your mind.”
“I am not losing my mind.”
“You’re definitely losing your mind.”
I turned toward the window, smiling helplessly to myself. Maybe I was.
By the time we pulled into my parents’ driveway, I was already unbuckling.
“Scarlett—”
“I’ll wait,” Sam said quickly, reading me too easily. “Go.”
I was out of the car before he’d fully finished the word.
I barely remembered crossing the lawn. Barely remembered shoving the front door open.
I just knew I was moving fast, too full of excitement to slow down, too desperate to get the words out.
“I run into the house dying to tell my parents and brother the good news.”
I rounded the corner into the living room—
—and slammed straight into someone.
Hard.
A startled curse left both of us at the same time as the impact sent us stumbling backward. My foot caught on the edge of the rug, and suddenly I was falling, dragging whoever I’d hit down with me.
We crashed to the floor in a tangle of limbs.
Pain jolted up my elbow. My hair fell across my face. The air whooshed out of my lungs.
For a second I could only blink, stunned, trying to orient myself.
“I was in such a rush I slam into someone in the living room and we both fall to the ground.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake—”
That voice.
My stomach dropped.
No.
No.
I pushed myself up on shaky hands, hair sliding out of my face—
—and froze.
“I push myself up to see who I landed on and my face is inches away from Ricky.”
Of course it was him.
Of course.
Ricky stared up at me with dark amused eyes, one corner of his mouth already pulling into a smirk like this was the best thing that had happened to him all day.
“Wow, Scarlett…” he drawled, not sounding remotely inconvenienced by the fact that I’d just body-slammed him into my parents’ hardwood floor. “Just when I thought you couldn’t be any more clumsy.”
Heat rushed to my face.
“Get off me,” he added lazily.
The spell broke.
I shoved myself upright so fast my knee slipped against the rug. “Why the hell are you here?”
Ricky sat up slower, brushing imaginary dust off his shirt with irritating calm. He looked perfectly at ease, like he belonged there. Like I was the one intruding.
“I came to see Liam, of course,” he said. “And your lovely parents invited me to stay for dinner.”
My jaw tightened.
He tilted his head, eyes glinting. “I was told you’d be out, so I accepted the invite.”
Of course he did.
Perfect timing. As always.
There had been a time, years ago, when Ricky being in our house had felt normal. Back when he and Liam were inseparable, back when they spent half their lives here playing video games too loud in the basement and raiding our fridge like they paid for the groceries.
Then somewhere along the way, Ricky had become unbearable.
Or maybe he’d always been unbearable, and I’d just been too young to notice.
Either way, now every time he was in the same room as me, it was like he took some private satisfaction in getting under my skin as efficiently as possible.
And the worst part?
He was good at it.
The front door opened behind me.
Sam.
He stepped inside, then took one look at Ricky on the floor, at me standing over him flushed and furious, and his expression shifted into resigned understanding.
He knew that face.
He knew exactly what it meant.
“Oh man…” Sam muttered, shutting the door behind him. “What happened now?”
Ricky looked up at him and laughed quietly. “Hi, Sam. Sorry for your unfortunate situation.”
I closed my eyes for one second.
Every. Single. Time.
Ever since Sam and I started dating, Ricky said it whenever he saw him. Sorry for your unfortunate situation. Like being with me was some kind of tragic burden Sam was bravely enduring.
The first time he’d said it, I’d thought maybe it was an off joke. By the fifth time, I’d realized no, this was a thing he enjoyed. A routine. A little knife he liked to twist just to watch me react.
Sam only sighed, exactly like someone who had heard it a hundred times before—because he had.
Then Ricky went on, voice full of fake innocence. “This klutz came running in here and knocked me on my ass.”
I stared at him. “You literally ran into me.”
“Interesting revision of events.”
“You—”
Sam stepped in before I could say something that would definitely start a fight in my parents’ living room. He reached for my hand without a word, grounding me instantly.
My anger didn’t vanish, but it stopped expanding.
His thumb brushed once over my knuckles.
“Do you want to go get your parents and brother to tell them?” he asked quietly.
The reminder landed like a hand on my shoulder, pulling me back to what had mattered two minutes ago.
The job.
My news.
My moment.
I glanced at Ricky, still sitting there looking entirely too entertained with himself.
“I don’t know that I want to tell them with Ricky here.”
Sam’s expression softened, but his hand tightened around mine just slightly. “He’s going to find out one way or another.”
He wasn’t wrong.
And I hated that he wasn’t wrong.
I took a breath through my nose, forcing myself to unclench. I was not going to let Ricky derail this. I was not giving him that kind of power today.
“You’re right,” I said quietly. Then louder: “You’re right, Sam. I don’t care if Ricky is here.”
Ricky’s brows lifted like he was pleased I’d decided to perform through adversity.
I ignored him.
I turned toward the hallway and raised my voice.
“Mom? Dad? Liam?”
A beat of silence.
Then: “What?” my brother shouted back from somewhere deeper in the house.
“I need you guys out here!”
“What did you break?” Liam called.
“Nothing!”
Ricky laughed under his breath.
I glared at the wall instead of at him.
Footsteps sounded almost immediately—first quick, then overlapping, then all at once as my family spilled into the living room.
My mom came first, wiping her hands on a dish towel, her face already full of concern that turned to confusion when she saw me standing there practically vibrating. My dad followed close behind, and Liam appeared last, looking halfway amused, halfway suspicious.
“What happened?” my mom asked.
“Are you okay?” my dad added.
Liam looked from me to Sam to Ricky still sitting on the floor and frowned. “Why is he on the ground?”
“Because your sister has the spatial awareness of a wrecking ball,” Ricky said.
“Shut up,” I snapped automatically.
Then I laughed, because I couldn’t hold it in anymore, and suddenly my eyes were burning again and my chest felt too tight and everything I wanted to say jammed up at once behind my teeth.
My mom took one look at my face and gasped. “Scarlett—what is it?”
And that was it. That was all it took.
“I got the job.”
Silence.
A split second of it.
Then my mom let out a shriek and rushed me.
Her arms wrapped around me so hard I stumbled back into Sam. “Oh, honey!”
My dad was right behind her, one hand going to the back of my head, the other around my shoulders, pulling me into that rare kind of hug that only happened when he was too proud to care about acting reserved.
Liam’s whole face changed. “Wait. You got it?”
I was laughing and crying at the same time now, which was humiliating but apparently unavoidable. “I got it.”
“The paralegal position?” my dad asked, like maybe there had been several major legal job offers floating around for me today.
“Yes!”
My mom pulled back only enough to cup my face in both hands. “At Nikodem?”
“Yes!”
“Oh my God,” she breathed, eyes shining. “Scarlett.”
Liam let out a low whistle and came forward next, grabbing me into a quick hug that smelled faintly like laundry detergent and whatever cologne he always used too much of. “That’s huge. Seriously. Congrats.”
“Thanks.”
“You actually did it.”
I shoved his shoulder weakly. “Obviously.”
My father smiled then, that specific one that always made something in my chest ache because it was so quiet and sincere. “We knew you could.”
And for a moment, everything felt exactly how it was supposed to.
Warm.
Bright.
Mine.
Questions flew from all sides.
“When do you start?”
“Did they send the paperwork yet?”
“What did they say?”
“Did you accept right away?”
“Do they do benefits immediately?”
I answered them all in a blur, laughing, talking too fast, barely even hearing my own voice over the rush in my ears.
And then—
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Ricky.
Still by the couch now, standing instead of sitting, one hand in his pocket.
Smirking.
Not big. Not openly mocking.
Just enough.
That look.
Sharp. Knowing. Annoying.
It was like his expression said, There you are.
Like he’d been watching me the whole time.
Like my excitement amused him.
Or interested him.
Or both.
Something low in my stomach tightened.
Unsettling.
Familiar.
I dragged my gaze away.
I was not doing this. Not today.
“I just wanted to let you all know I was offered a paralegal position at Nikodem,” I said again, louder this time, as if repeating it might drown out the sensation of being watched.
My mom made another emotional noise and clutched my arm. “This calls for dessert.”
My dad laughed. “It’s six-thirty.”
“So?”
Liam grinned. “I support this.”
Sam was still beside me, smiling in that calm, steady way he did, and when I glanced at him he squeezed my hand again.
His expression said the same thing it always did when I got in my head too much.
Stay here.
Stay in this moment.
So I tried.
I really did.
But still, every few seconds, I could feel Ricky’s gaze.
Not always obvious. Not enough for anyone else to comment on. But there.
Present.
Like a low heat at the edge of a room.
Eventually my mom disappeared toward the kitchen in search of something celebratory, and my dad followed to help her. Liam started asking me practical questions about commute times and whether the office was downtown or farther out, and Sam answered a few on my behalf when I got distracted halfway through.
Normal conversation.
Normal happiness.
Exactly what I’d wanted.
Then Ricky spoke.
“So,” he said lightly, and I hated that my entire body seemed to register his voice before my mind did, “you’re going to be a paralegal.”
I turned to look at him fully for the first time since the announcement.
He leaned one shoulder against the doorway to the dining room, casual as anything. Dark hair a little messy. That same infuriating almost-smile still sitting on his mouth like he knew something no one else did.
“Yes,” I said.
“Interesting.”
My brows pulled together. “What’s interesting?”
He shrugged. “You.”
Liam groaned. “Oh my God.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Excuse me?”
Ricky’s gaze moved over my face with slow, infuriating calm. “Just didn’t picture you voluntarily choosing a career that involves paperwork, detail, patience, and not committing homicide when people are annoying.”
Sam went still beside me.
Liam muttered, “Dude.”
I felt heat rise instantly into my cheeks. “Are you serious?”
“What?” Ricky said, sounding almost bored. “I’m complimenting you.”
“In what universe?”
“The one where I’m surprised you can sit still long enough to do legal work and not stab the printer the first time it jams.”
Liam barked out a laugh before choking it back.
“Not helping,” I snapped at him.
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You laughed.”
“It was a reflex.”
I looked back at Ricky. “You know what? Forget it.”
His gaze sharpened slightly, like that answer interested him more than if I’d exploded.
That only made me angrier.
“Actually, no. Don’t forget it,” I said. “Why do you always do that?”
Liam sighed. “Scarlett—”
“No, I mean it.” I stepped away from Sam, folding my arms over my chest. “Every single time I see you, you have something to say. Every time. Why?”
Ricky straightened a little from the doorway.
For a brief second, the room shifted. The air changed.
His expression didn’t, exactly. But something in his eyes did.
Like a lock turning.
“Scarlett,” Sam said quietly, warning in his tone.
But I was already there now, too annoyed to back off.
“You can never just let me have a moment,” I said. “There always has to be some comment, some stupid little jab—”
“I said I was surprised.”
“Oh, please.”
“And?” Ricky asked.
“And you’re an ass.”
That almost-smile deepened.
“There she is.”
The words hit me harder than they should have.
Like he’d been waiting for me to push back. Like this—this sharpness between us, this rhythm of bait and response—was something familiar to him. Something he enjoyed.
I hated how instinctive it felt.
I hated that he could drag it out of me so easily.
Before I could answer, my mom reappeared holding a pie server like a weapon.
“Why does it sound like there’s fighting in my living room?”
“Because there is,” Liam said.
“There’s not,” Sam and I said at the same time.
Ricky just looked at me.
My mom narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “Scarlett.”
“I’m fine.”
She looked at Ricky next. “Ricky.”
“Mrs. Bennett.”
“Behave.”
His mouth twitched. “Always.”
I nearly laughed at the sheer audacity of that lie.
My mother disappeared again, unconvinced.
The room quieted for a second after that. Liam shoved his hands in his pockets and looked between us all like he was trying to calculate how close he was to needing to referee. Sam shifted closer to me again, not touching this time, just present.
But Ricky—
Ricky didn’t look away.
It was the strangest thing.
Usually his comments felt casual, thrown out just to irritate me and then forgotten. Usually he acted like nothing mattered enough to take seriously.
But right now, standing there in my parents’ living room while everyone else tried to move past the moment, he was watching me with a look that didn’t feel casual at all.
It made my stomach tighten all over again.
There was something in it I didn’t understand.
Something that didn’t fit.
I turned away first.
Liam started talking to Sam about something stupid and sports-related, and I let their voices wash over me without really listening. My heartbeat still hadn’t settled. My happiness from earlier was still there, still bright and real, but now it had something tangled through it. Something irritated and restless and annoyingly electric.
I hated that one look from him could do that.
I hated that after all this time, Ricky still knew exactly how to get under my skin.
A little later, when plates had been passed around and everyone drifted toward the dining room, I hung back for a moment under the excuse of checking my phone.
Really, I just needed a second to breathe.
The house was full of familiar sounds—my mom fussing in the kitchen, my dad opening and closing cabinets, Liam arguing with Sam about whether some team had been robbed last season.
Normal.
Safe.
I looked down at my phone and reread the email they’d sent after the call, just to reassure myself again that it was still there.
It was.
Offer letter attached.
My chest swelled all over again.
This was happening.
This was real.
“You’re actually happy.”
I looked up sharply.
Ricky stood in the doorway, half in shadow, hands in his pockets.
I lowered my phone. “What is that supposed to mean?”
He shrugged one shoulder. “Exactly what I said.”
I should have walked away.
I should have ignored him.
Instead I heard myself say, “You make it sound rare.”
His gaze held mine. “It is.”
That annoyed me more than if he’d insulted me again.
“What are you talking about?”
“You’re usually tense,” he said. “Ready to bite someone’s head off.”
“Maybe because you’re usually in the room.”
A flicker of amusement passed over his face. “Maybe.”
I stared at him. “So you agree you’re the problem.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You implied it.”
He tilted his head. “You got the job, Scarlett. You should try enjoying that instead of trying to pick a fight with me.”
I let out a short laugh, genuinely disbelieving. “You started it.”
“Did I?”
“Yes.”
“By saying I was surprised?”
“By existing in my house, actually.”
That got a real smile out of him.
Brief. Crooked. Gone almost as quickly as it had appeared.
And for one stupid second, it threw me.
Because it changed his whole face. Made him look younger. Less sharp. Less impossible.
Which was deeply inconvenient.
I recovered first. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
The question slipped out before I could stop it.
His expression flattened slightly. “Like what?”
“Like—” I cut myself off, suddenly very aware that I didn’t actually know how to explain it. “Never mind.”
“No.” His voice lowered just enough to make my pulse skip once. “Go ahead.”
I hated that.
I hated the way he said things sometimes, like the rest of the room had disappeared. Like his attention narrowed everything.
I tightened my grip on my phone. “Forget it.”
He took one step farther into the room.
Not close.
Not exactly.
But enough.
“Scarlett.”
My name sounded wrong in his mouth when he said it like that. Too calm. Too direct.
Too personal.
I swallowed. “What?”
His green eyes moved over my face, unreadable. “Congratulations.”
Just that.
Nothing mocking. Nothing sharp.
For a second I only stared.
It would have been easier if he’d smirked after saying it. Easier if he’d made it another joke. Easier if he’d stayed exactly the version of himself I’d gotten used to being angry at.
But he didn’t.
And somehow that unsettled me more.
“Thanks,” I said finally.
He nodded once.
Then, as if the moment had never happened, Liam shouted from the dining room, “If you two are plotting each other’s murders in there, do it after dinner.”
I blinked.
Ricky looked toward the sound, then back at me.
And there it was again—that almost-smile. That edge. That infuriating ease.
“See?” he said lightly. “Your brother knows you well.”
I rolled my eyes so hard it almost hurt. “Go to hell.”
He stepped aside, gesturing toward the dining room like some smug, dark-haired asshole at the gates of politeness. “After you.”
I walked past him without another word.
But as I did, I could feel him watching me.
And the worst part?
I was suddenly too aware of it.
Too aware of him standing there, too aware of the brush of air as I moved by, too aware of the fact that my pulse had picked up again for reasons I absolutely refused to examine.
By the time I sat down at the table, I had my smile back in place. My parents were still glowing. Liam was still teasing me. Sam slid into the chair beside me, warm and familiar and easy.
This was my night.
My accomplishment.
My future.
And I wasn’t letting anything ruin that.
Not Ricky’s smirks.
Not his comments.
Not the strange look in his eyes when he thought I wasn’t paying attention.
His smirk still knotted my stomach up, but I chose to ignore him and feel good about this.
Because this moment?
This was mine.
And I wasn’t letting him take it.
Click Here for Chapter 2
