Troy did not ask again that night.
After the lunch ended and the Harrisons left, he only looked at Alex once in the upstairs hallway—long enough that Alex felt the weight of it—then went into his own room and closed the door. The silence that followed was worse than an argument.
Alex sat on the edge of his bed with his phone face-down beside him. Stolas’s words kept returning in pieces.
*I have a real interest in you.*
*Not as a piece on Troy’s board.*
*As yourself.*
He had not answered. He had only stood there while the hallway filled with the sound of the others moving toward the front door. Now the house was quiet again, and the quiet felt like it was waiting for something.
---
The next morning Troy was already downstairs when Alex came into the kitchen. Bridget was making c
