Chapter 25 Hot Chocolate and the Last Week
The café was warm the second we stepped inside, and the smell hit me right away—coffee, sugar, something baked. It was crowded, and the noise wrapped around me like a blanket I didn’t ask for. For a moment, my chest tightened, and I reminded myself I was fine. That nothing bad was happening, that I was just… in a café.
Jake’s hand stayed linked with mine. “Want to leave?” he asked softly.
I shook my head. “No. I want to stay.”
Josh shifted a little closer to my side, not touching, just close enough that I felt him there. “Okay, baby girl,” he said quietly.
Drew’s voice stayed calm. “We’ll step out if you need to. No big deal.”
Patrick moved behind me for a second, and his hand brushed my back once—quick and steady, like a reminder that he was there.
We waited a few minutes for a table, and I focused on small things. Jake’s fingers are in mine. The warmth inside my coat. The fact that I wasn’t alone.
When a table opened in the corner, we slid into it. Jake sat beside me, shoulder touching mine. Josh and Drew sat across from us. Patrick took the seat angled slightly outward. Mike sat last and immediately acted as if the chair had offended him personally.
Jake stood up. “Drinks. Anyone want anything besides hot chocolate?”
Mike raised a hand. “Coffee.”
Josh sighed. “Of course.”
Jake looked at me. “Your usual?”
“Extra marshmallows,” I said, and my voice sounded a little whiny. I didn’t care.
Jake smiled like it made him happy. “Maximum marshmallows.”
While Jake went to order, I let myself settle. The noise didn’t feel as sharp once I was sitting.
Josh’s gaze flicked to me. “You okay?”
I nodded. “Yeah. I’m okay.”
“Good,” he said simply.
Jake came back with a tray a few minutes later and set my mug in front of me as it mattered. It was piled with whipped cream, marshmallows, and cinnamon. Ridiculous in the best way.
I took a sip.
It was perfect.
I sighed without meaning to, and my shoulders dropped.
Jake’s face softened. “Good?”
“Very,” I admitted.
Mike leaned forward slightly, smirking. “She makes cute noises when she’s happy.”
I glared at him. “Don’t.”
Josh said flatly, “Michael.”
Drew’s mouth twitched. “He’s not wrong.”
My face heated. I covered my mouth with my hand, but I couldn’t stop smiling.
Under the table, Patrick’s hand rested on my knee—just pressure, steady and quiet. It grounded me more than I expected.
We stayed a little longer than we needed to, mostly because I didn’t want to rush. When I finished my drink, Josh stood first.
“Groceries,” he said, like that was the next step in a mission.
Mike groaned. “Tragic.”
Jake leaned down and pressed a quick kiss to my cheek. “You did well,” he murmured.
I rolled my eyes. “It’s a café.”
He shrugged. “Still.”
The grocery store was busy, but it was easier than the café. We moved through the aisles and filled the cart with actual food—things we’d go through fast with six people. Jake kept drifting toward snacks, and Josh kept redirecting him without turning it into a fight.
In the baking aisle, Jake stopped in front of the dessert section as if it were calling to him. He picked up a box of brownie mix and held it as if it were important.
“We should make brownies tonight,” he said.
Mike snorted. “You should not.”
“I can make brownies,” Jake insisted.
“You set toast on fire,” Mike reminded him.
Jake frowned. “That was one time.”
Patrick spoke without looking up. “You can make brownies if someone supervises.”
Jake’s eyes went to me immediately. “Emmy can supervise.”
I raised an eyebrow. “You want me supervising you?”
Jake nodded, completely serious. “Yes. You’re scary.”
Mike laughed. “She is scary.”
Josh added, calm as if it were a fact, “She’s definitely scary.”
Drew shrugged. “In a good way.”
I rolled my eyes, but warmth still spread in my chest. “Fine,” I said, dropping the brownie mix into the cart. “But if you burn down the kitchen, I’m telling everyone it was your fault.”
Jake smiled like I’d given him a prize. “Deal.”
Firewood was next. Patrick carried most of it as if it weighed nothing while we loaded the SUV. The sun was lower now, and the cold felt sharper. I pulled my scarf tighter around my neck and realized it already felt like mine.
On the drive back, I stared out the window again, watching the mountains slide past, the trees lining the road like they were guarding the cabin.
One more week.
And then Boston.
Jake squeezed my hand. “You’re doing the stare thing again.”
I huffed a small laugh. “Stop calling it that.”
Josh’s voice came from the front, softer. “Talk to us, baby girl.”
I hesitated, then admitted it anyway. “I don’t want to leave.”
No one joked. The car went a little quieter—not heavy, just listening.
Josh spoke first, steady. “We’ll still have this at home.”
I swallowed. “It won’t be the same.”
Drew turned slightly, calm. “It’ll be different. But it can still be good.”
Patrick reached forward from the back and touched my shoulder once, brief and certain.
Mike leaned forward a little, voice lighter on purpose. “And you’ll still have us. You can’t get rid of us.”
Jake squeezed my hand tighter. “We’ll make the last week count,” he said softly. “And when we go home, we’ll make home count too.”
My chest tightened again, but this time it wasn’t dread. Just… feeling too much.
I nodded. “Okay.”
When the cabin finally came into view through the trees—smoke curling from the chimney, snow glittering around it—I felt my shoulders loosen as my body recognized it as safe before my brain did.
We weren’t done yet.
We still had time.
And I wasn’t going to waste the last week hiding inside my own head.