Free Web NovelChapter 312: Chapter 312 We Have A Wednesday To Make
Allison
"I know," I say. The gratitude sits low and steady. "He always does."
We finish the food and put the containers back in the sack. He ties the handles once and sets it on the shelf like he’s trying not to leave a mess anywhere in my life.
"I got a system email," I say, watching his face. "Access level change."
He raises his brows. "Good. You won’t get hassled at doors you already walk past."
"You didn’t do it," I say.
"No," he answers. "Ethan fixes systems the way I fix fights."
’You can say thank you later,’ Ruby says, pragmatic. ’You don’t have to cede ground to do it.’
I rest my forearms on my knees. "I told your mother earlier that the step lighting was perfect," I say. "She sent back a heart and a photo from the terrace. I told her not to post the one where Elijah Blue looks like he’s plotting to steal the microphone."
Elijah groans. "I wasn’t plotting. I was calculating whether I could get away with telling a story that would make father leave the stage early."
"How did that math work out?" I ask.
"Badly," he says, laughing under his breath. "I settled for not making him proud of my restraint." We sit with that and the way it puts us on the same side of a line without making me pick up a flag.
He looks at my hands. "Can I ask for something?"
"Ask," I say.
"Pick a rhythm," he says. "A time I can count on. Coffee before you open once a week, or a walk at lunch, or training on Wednesdays. I don’t want you answering a daily knock if you don’t want it. I’d like a place in your calendar that doesn’t move unless you move it."
The ask lands clean and it’s not a demand. It’s logistics.
"Wednesday nights," I say, surprising us both with how fast the answer comes. "After training, not in the pack gym. Here or at the diner or at the falls if it’s clear."
He nods once, that precise nod he uses when a piece finally slides into the right spot. He opens his phone, taps something, and then turns the screen to me; Wednesdays 8PM - A. Grey with no emoji, no location, no name that would out me if a glance landed wrong.
"Can I add you to it?" he asks.
"Yes," I say. "No details."
He sends the invite, my phone buzzes and I accept.
He stands, then hesitates. "Hand?" he asks.
"Yes," I say.
He warms his palm on mine for a second, squeezes once, and lets go. He looks at my mouth and then at the ceiling like it’s a better target. "I should go before someone with a camera decides the bookstore is scenic."
"I have one more box to shelve," I say. "Then I’ll lock up the back and cut through the alley."
"I’ll walk the alley from the other side," he says. "We’ll look like two people who remembered they forgot milk."
"Buy milk then," I say, and he laughs again. fгee𝑤ebɳoveɭ.cøm
He slides to the door and pauses with his hand on the latch. "Time," he says.
"Time," I answer with a small smile.
He leaves as quiet as he came. I relock the door and carry the last box to the front. Fiction. I face-out three titles that need love and drop a new release into the staff picks with a sticky note; For anyone who wants a story where the girl doesn’t apologize for being sharp.
The forum app pings again on my phone even though I set DND, I must have let that channel through. I open it because I don’t like surprises.
If a fox wants in, let her prove it on patrol. Or send her back to her own kind.
Mods: keep it civil.
I heard she fought Darius and made him run.
You "heard." People say anything.
I close the app and open my camera roll. The last photos are unremarkable, spines of books I want to order, a picture of the river when the sun hit it at the right angle this morning, a shot of the staff schedule so I don’t forget I took extra hours next week. I delete the river photo because it looks too much like a secret and I don’t want to hand anyone a map.
’We’re staying,’ Ruby says, even. ’We said time, we didn’t say surrender.’
"Right," I say, and flip off the front lights. The shop drops into clean lines, shelves, counters and doors. I don’t assign it meaning. I pocket my keys and walk to the back.
The alley is narrow and bright at one end where the streetlamp doesn’t flicker. Elijah waits at the corner with a carton of milk like he might need a prop. He doesn’t try to take my bag, he doesn’t reach for me, he just falls in a step off my shoulder, not crowding.
We make it to the cottages without anyone pretending they just happened to be standing outside. He stops at the path to mine. "Text when you’re in," he says.
"I will," I say.
He nods and doesn’t ask for more. He heads for the main road, and I key in.
The cottage entry light comes on. The little kitchen looks the same as it did this morning and the message light on the landline blinks like it always does when the owner forgets to collect service calls from vendors. My phone buzzes once.
Elijah: In?
Me: In.
After a second.
Elijah: Wednesday, I’ll bring tea. You can pick the story.
’Tea and time,’ Ruby says. ’We can work with that.’
I set the phone on the counter, toe off my shoes, and wash the store off my hands. The email about badge access sits in my inbox like a new rule waiting to be tested. I don’t reply to it but I don’t delete it either. I mark the forum app as muted for twenty-four hours and set my alarm earlier so I can beat the breakfast rush to the coffee line.
I plug my phone in and crawl into bed. The cottage is quiet in the regular way and my chest is a little less tight than it was at closing. I breathe, and the line that started at the falls holds steady.
’Sleep,’ Ruby says. ’We have a Wednesday to make.’
"Okay," I say, and close my eyes.
