Reece
My parents are, but my sister isn’t, and I refuse to ruin her day.
Baby boy
Dude, I’m bringing my boyfriend.
Despite this conversation—and our unconventional relationship—warmth blossoms in my chest, and I bite my lip to suppress my ridiculous smile. I guess that answers my question.
Reece
Again, you don’t have to come. I’m not causing drama at my sister’s wedding.
Baby boy
Drama? You’re bringing Aurora. My wife. How will you explain that? How will you explain she’s pregnant, and not by you?
So much for them getting along.
This is supposed to be a babymoon, remember? We’ll attend the wedding, be polite, do whatever we have to do, then vacation somewhere together.
Reece is slow to respond, and while Jax waits, his knee bounces, his lips pressed in a tight line. He has no patience, no tolerance for indecision or disloyalty.
Baby boy
I don’t want Aurora going to the wedding if she’ll only be hurt and disappointed.
She’ll be okay.
Reece will figure this out before we arrive, and if not, the first tear in Aurora’s eye will bring his world to a halt—guaranteed. He won’t allow anyone to upset her.
Reece
No one has to attend. I’ll take my partner. If you’d like, you can still meet my sisters.
Baby boy
Charlie? Who spent the night with two men?
Reece
His real name is Lucas and he understands my family.
Baby boy
Your family? You keep saying that word, but you can’t even be yourself around them.
Bickering is getting us nowhere. Let’s discuss this at home and come up with a game plan. We can pretend for a night.
Reece is trying, but Jax only has two options: in or out.
He throws his phone down, catching Grant’s attention. Huddled close, they whisper, and that prickly sensation returns with a vengeance. It’s a tremor beneath my skin, a tightness in my chest, a knot in my stomach.
Jax refuses to hide his true self. He’ll play it safe around the team, fearing I’ll be fired, but not elsewhere, certainly not with people who dare call themself family.
Strangely, I feel his frustration. I, too, want to show my love whenever and wherever the fuck I want, without judgment or consequence.
The crowd is a dull roar, the arena packed full—a sea of faces behind the glass, all buzzing with excitement. The music pounds, a visceral thrum vibrating in the air, and adrenaline pumps through my veins.
