Page 185 of Mason

Allegra snorts into her wine. “Offended? Scar looked like I cheated on him with theshowerhead.”

Mia raises an eyebrow. “Brando once stood in the hallway with his arms crossed because I didn’t invite him in topee next to me.That man has no boundaries.”

Laughter echoes around the room, warm and bright.

Jackie grins wickedly. “Lucky came into the bathroom once while I was tweezing my eyebrows and said—and I quote—‘Don’t touch your face, it’s mine now.’ Like heownsmy eyebrows.”

“Oh my God,” I laugh, the sound slipping out before I can stop it. “That’s borderline terrifying.”

Maxine lifts her wine glass. “To our unhinged, possessive psychos. May they never learn about healthy attachment styles.”

We all clink glasses.

“I swear,” Lula says, curling deeper into a blanket, “Kanyan breathes down my neck in the kitchen like he’s afraid I’ll disappear behind the fridge.”

Tayana smirks. “They’re like wolves. Big, growly, territorial wolves. But, you know, hot.”

“Hot wolves,” Jackie agrees. “We’re basically living in a supernatural fanfic.”

The conversation dissolves into laughter and lazy teasing. Allegra passes around a tub of chocolate-covered almonds. Someone opens another bottle of wine. The energy shifts—still light, still playful—but there’s something softer underneath now. Something grounding.

I’m not saying much. Just listening. Watching the way they lean into each other without hesitation. The casual way they touch—nudges, shared blankets, a foot draped over someone else’s legs. These womenknoweach other. Deeply. Intimately.

They’ve built something here. Something I’ve never had.

And I didn’t realize how much I needed it until now.

Maxine catches my eye from across the room and gives me a small, knowing smile. Not pushy. Just... there.

“You’re doing okay?” she mouths.

I nod.

I think I mean it.

There’s a beat of silence as everyone sips, breathes, lets the moment settle.

Then Jackie perks up, eyes gleaming with mischief as she pulls a deck of cards from somewhere behind a throw pillow. “Truth or drink, bitches. You’re not allowed to lie, but youareallowed to regret.”

By round three, the questions turn sharper.

“Biggest fear?”

“Worst sex?”

“Ever cheated?”

“Ever killed someone?”—that one from Tayana, half-smirking, half-serious. Nobody answers.

When the circle lands on me, and someone asks what I regret most, I sip my wine instead of speaking.

But Mia leans over, her shoulder pressing against mine, and whispers, “You don’t have to earn your place here, Shelby. You already have it.”

The air shifts.

The room goes still—not awkward, just weighted. Like everyone feels the moment crystallize between us. Like something unspoken just settled into the space and changed it forever.

Then Jackie snorts and ruins it, bless her soul.

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