Page 62 of Gathered Sparkle

Koen leans back in his chair, a small, knowing smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Of course I am.” I groan dramatically in response as he stands up from his seat. “We should go have a nap.”

“I just woke up. I’m not tired.”

“How about we go to my room and hang out for a bit? Listen to some music?”

I hesitate, the idea tempting but not quite enough to help with my anxiety. “Talking strategy for tomorrow’s dinner would be nice,” I admit. “I have no idea what the hell we’re doing.”

“Course,” he agrees as he holds out his hand. “Let’s do that.”

His brown eyes hold me hostage as I slide off the chair. Then he smiles, and I return it automatically as he tugs on my hand and guides me upstairs.

Koen’s room smells like him—warm spices, vanilla, and safety, all of it wrapping around me the moment I step inside. The space is calm, tidy, and composed. There’s also a quiet elegance to it, the dark tones, black and deep grays, so different from the chaotic mess of my apartment. There’s a computer set up in one corner, shelves packed with books, cookbooks mostly, and picture frames arranged thoughtfully on surfaces. It’s cozy in a way I wasn’t expecting.

Just like him.

One of the frames on his bookshelf catches my attention, and I brush past him and pick it up. A beautiful girl with darkhair and eyes stands between two younger versions of the twins. They’re identical here—no blond hair or piercings to set Levi apart, no beard on Koen to distinguish him. They all look so happy, and it makes my heart constrict painfully.

“This is Rose?”

Koen’s bare arm brushes against mine as he looks at the photo. “Yeah.”

“She was beautiful,” I say, truly meaning it as I glance up at him beside me.

A small smile pulls at his lips, but his eyes are sad. “She was so much more. Cocky, sassy, funny. The best big sister. She always knew how to keep us in check.”

I huff a quiet laugh as I look back at the picture, imagining it. “She sounds amazing.”

“She was,” he agrees. We both look at the picture together for a few moments before he asks, “How wasyourRosie?”

“She was… the opposite. Introverted, nice, responsible, and so damn kind.” My gaze rakes over him as I think of the moments we’ve shared so far, the way he’s made me feel. “She was a lot like you, honestly.”

“Funny.” He nudges his leg against mine. “I was just thinking about how my Rosie was a lot like you.”

I grip the photo tighter as the comment—the compliment—lands deep inside me, almost too far for me to grasp. “Sounds like we would have been good friends.” Then, I murmur quietly to myself, “I still need to bring her flowers.”

I set the frame back down carefully, doing my best to situate it exactly as I found it, and my fingers linger on the edge as if reluctant to let go.

Koen steps into my space and grasps my fingers with one hand as he lightly touches my chin with the other, tilting my face toward him. “You do?”

The grip feels more like a comfort than a command, and I answer his question honestly, “I sat with her for years and never thought about it. I should’ve brought her roses.” My gaze flicks between his deep brown eyes. “She deserves roses, Koen.”

He swallows thickly, then releases my chin and smiles. “You brought her one of my favorite wines, even if she was underage.”

I wince at the reminder of how we met. “Yeah, sorry about that.”

“Don’t be,” he says with a genuine laugh, his long hair swinging forward with the motion. “I’m glad you were spending time with her. Honestly, I wasn’t there enough. I should’ve been.”

We lock eyes for a long, charged moment before he asks, “Do you want to—”

The buzzing of my phone cuts through the moment, and I’m not sure whether to be relieved or not. “Hold that thought.” I sigh, my stomach doing a flip when I pull it out and see who’s calling.

Nicholas.

What the hell is this about?

“It’s Nico,” I say with a frown, glancing up at Koen.

“Take it,” he instructs as he steps away with an unreadable expression.

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