JACK
We’re still catching our breath.
The couch cushions are askew, a pillow on the floor, Parker’s hair wild from where Gavin had his fingers in it. There’s a print of her palm on the fogged window behind us, and somewhere in this room is a pair of my socks—no idea when I kicked them off.
Parker slips out from between us, grabbing the oversized shirt she’d tossed earlier. It’s Harrison’s. She buttons it with one hand while reaching for her hair tie with the other, a little off-balance and grinning like she can’t quite believe we’re really here.
Gavin leans against the back of the couch, watching her like she’s the whole world, while Harrison closes his eyes, arms folded behind his head like he’s finally letting himself exhale.
Parker tucks her hair into a messy bun and stretches with
