Chapter seven
Jade
The sun is too bright.
It’s stupid, really. A perfect summer afternoon, blue sky stretched overhead, a few lazy clouds drifting like they don’t have anywhere better to be. Warmth soaking into my skin like something that could, theoretically, be healing if I let it. If I trusted it. Which, of course, I don’t.
I sit at the edge of the pool with my bare feet dangling in the water, swirling little ripples across the surface. The tiles are warm beneath me, sun-baked. I pull my knees up tighter to my chest, still wearing my hoodie even though the day is begging me to shed it. There’s a pair of swim trunks under here, sure. Hiding under the long hem of my oversized hoodie. I put them on like a normal person. But I’m not in the mood to feel normal.
Normal feels like a lie.
Pink is stretched out like a cat on one of the sun loungers, head tipped back, sunglasses perched on his nose. He’s wearing the most ridiculous neon orange swim trunks that clash violently with the faded towel he’s half-reclining on. His skin glows bronze from the sun, sleek and glossy, like he belongs in some magazine shoot for summer decadence.
He has bloomed since meeting Monty, doubly so since getting married. My best friend is thriving. Healing. Radiating health and happiness. Despite the worry for Monty’s missing little brother.
Blue is in the pool already, of course. He moves through the water like he was born from it, and that’s because he was. His blond hair is slicked back, and he runs a hand over it before ducking under again. He surfaces with a smile, eyes bright. Even though he’s been through hell, the same hell as me, he still finds a way to sparkle. Maybe it’s the siren in him. Maybe it’s something stronger.
Maybe it is Sammy and the joy of having a mate. Your very own special person. Someone to share your life with.
I envy that.
I wrap my arms tighter around my knees, watching them both from the shadow I’ve made of myself.
“You know,” Pink drawls lazily, not even bothering to look at me, “if you don’t get in soon, I’m throwing you in. Hoodie and all.”
“I’d like to see you try,” I say, though there’s no heat in it. My voice feels like it belongs to someone else. Someone who isn’t wound tight as piano wire.
Pink glances at me, lifting his sunglasses to peer over the top of the frames. “You’re brooding again,” he observes. “It’s a nice day. No brooding allowed. House rules.”
“We have house rules?” I murmur.
“We do now.”
Blue pushes himself up onto the pool’s edge beside me, water streaming off him like liquid glass. He leans a little closer.
“He’s right, you know. You look like you’re thinking too hard.”
“But I suppose that’s allowed,” adds Pink, quick to make amends and keep the peace, as always.
Blue hums in agreement, head tilted back so the sunlight catches silver threads in his hair. “You’re doing that thing again.”
“What thing?”
“That thing where you stare at the water like you think it’s going to swallow you whole.”
I glance at the pool, then back at them. “Maybe I like the idea.”
Pink pushes his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose just far enough to peer at me properly. “Maybe you should stop being so dramatic and come cool off.”
“I’m not being dramatic.”
Both of them laugh, easy and warm like the day itself, and I roll my eyes but can’t quite hide the smile tugging at my mouth. This is how it always is with them, like sunlight through a storm cloud. Like I can almost forget the weight in my chest for a little while.
I shift position. The tiles are warm beneath my skin, grounding me. I trail my fingers through the water. Cool. Inviting. Alive in a way that makes my pulse skip, even now.
Blue watches me with that knowing little look of his. “You’re distracted.”
“I’m fine.”
