Before I can reply, she swings her legs over mine and settles into my lap like she belongs there. Her skirt rides up just enough to make my throat go dry, and she crosses one ankle lazily behind my knee, locking herself in.
One hand balances her lemonade. The other is suddenly in my hair, playing with it, tugging at strands like it’s her favorite pastime. She catches my wrists, guiding them to her hips, pressing my palms flat against her as if daring me to pull her closer.
And then—like the cruelest part of it all—she keeps right on chatting with Miles, her voice casual, light, as though nothing out of the ordinary is happening.
And me? I’m sitting here trying not to combust. My pulse is racing, my skin is burning, and every inch of me wants to grab her, pin her down, and finally kiss her until we’re both breathless.
Jesus Christ, Nova.
Her perfume drifts up—vanilla with something sharp, citrus maybe—and I swear it makes me dizzy. The song keeps looping, mocking me, and I swear she’s laughing without ever opening her mouth.
Maya notices the way I’m gripping Nova’s waist. She arches a brow, smirking. “Wow, you two are... close.”
Nova beams, unbothered. “We’ve known each other forever. It’s just how we are.”
“Mm,” Maya hums, skeptical, her eyes flicking between us. “Could’ve fooled me. Looks like more thanjust friends.”
Nova just giggles and pats my chest like it’s a private joke between us. “Well, heismy favorite person.” Then, before Maya can get another jab in, she leans down and whispers in my ear, her hair brushing my cheek. “Relax, Cooper. It’s just a song.”
But it’s not just a song. Not when she’s in my lap. Not when my hands are burning into her hips. Not when her laughter, low and private, feels like it was made just for me.
Her fingers slide deeper through my hair, tugging lightly, and my breath stutters. She knows. She knows exactly how far she can push me. She takes a slow sip of lemonade, her lips wet, glistening under the light, and then she presses the rim of the can to my mouth.
“Thirsty?” she teases, voice soft, lilting, mock-innocent.
I drink, because what the hell else can I do? The carbonation fizzes on my tongue, but all I taste is her. When she pulls the can away, she wipes the corner of my mouth with her thumb, slow and deliberate, like she’s erasing proof of something only the two of us know.
I can’t even breathe.
“See?” she whispers, her lips so close to my ear that my whole body tightens. “I can do it better.”
Right on cue, Avril belts,“I want to be your girlfriend.”
The words slip out of me before I can stop them, low, rushed: “I don’t have a girlfriend.”
Her grin spreads like wildfire, ignoring Maya’s daggers from across the room. “Good to know,” she whispers back, smug and satisfied. Then, without missing a beat, she sings under her breath, “And even when you look away, I know you think of me.”
Damn. She’s right.
-*?? . ??? ? ?.-*??
At the drinks table, Nova leans her hip against the counter, sipping lemonade like she’s in no rush. Abigail’s beside her, laughing at something, and Maya’s across from them with that stiff smile that’s less “friendly” and more “don’t think I don’t see through you.”
“So...” Maya says sweetly, but her tone is edged sharp. “You and Vincent are... close.”
Nova flashes that easy grin that makes people melt. “Mm-hm. We grew up together.” She tosses her hair back. “He’s basically my favorite person in the world.”
Abigail smirks knowingly into her cup.
Maya’s eyes flicker, and her smile thins. “Favorite person. Interesting. You must be very... comfortable with each other. Sitting on his lap like that in front of everyone...” Her brows lift. “Don’t you think that gives people the wrong idea?”
Nova just sips, unbothered. “Maybe it does. But what if the idea isn’t wrong?”
Maya blinks, caught off guard. “Excuse me?”
Nova leans in slightly, lowering her voice. “Vincent doesn’t mind. In fact...” her eyes sparkle, darting across the room right at me before returning to Maya, “...I think he likes it when I keep him company.”
Heat spikes in my chest.
