She furrows her brows and sets down her mug. “Why?”
“He’s worried you’ll be hurt when I don’t claim you as mine.” I reach up to twirl my earring, only to find, with a familiar pang of regret, that it’s gone. “If I do, my father will either kick us out or spend the day preaching how I’m living a life of sin, along with Ethan and Jax. We both know that’ll set him off, and I’m not ruining my sister’s wedding.”
“Oh.” Her head bows, and that single sound speaks volumes.
I hate it. I hate her disappointment, especially in me. “Butmy sister, Sadie, is ecstatic to meet you, although she doesn’t believe we’re dating or whatever.”
Large, golden-brown eyes, hesitant and questioning, peer up at me. “Why not?”
I scoff at her utter lack of self-awareness. “Because you’reyou—aSports Illustratedmodel—and I’m their chunky jock brother.”
“You are not chunky!” she insists, but her voice is laced with a chuckle.
“I was. Wait until you see the pictures. I’m sure they’ll show you.”
She hops off the stool, stumbling and nearly giving me a heart attack. Pregnancy hasn’t helped her clumsiness.
Arm outstretched, I round the island. “Where are you going? Jesus, you make me nervous.”
She scans my outfit. “Is that all you have to wear?”
I look down at my T-shirt and athletic shorts. “Yeah… I need to wash some clothes. Why?”
“That’ll do. We’ll go out to the beach.” She dismisses me with a wave of her hand. “We’re doing a photoshoot for your sisters.”
“What? No, that’s not needed.” I am not photogenic. I do not fake a smile well.
Ignoring me, she turns toward the bedroom, presumably to change. “Grab your baseball cap. I like it.”
I stand there, dumbfounded. What the fuck just happened? What about my parents and the wedding? “Aurora!” I chase after her.
“Was it a hoop or a diamond?” she calls over her shoulder.
“What?”
“In your ear, Viking. Is the hole still there?”
“What?” I repeat. I swear, I’m more intelligent than this. “Yes, it’s still pierced. Why?”
Undeterred, she rifles through drawers in her mammoth closet. “I have a lot of jewelry given to me that I never wear or only wore once for a photo.” She hands me a stack of small boxes. “Here you go. Diamonds.”
I thrust them at her and shake my head. “No. I’m not taking these.”
“Pick one. You don’t have to keep them—unless you want to.” Stepping back, she unbuttons her top, effectively silencing my argument. “Put it in for today, and we’ll take a bunch of couplesphotos for your sisters.” Then, a thought hits her, and she gasps. “We can FaceTime them!”
“Aurora, no. What about the wedding? We were having a conversation.”
“I don’t care about pretending—I get you every other day of the year—but did you ask your sister whatshewanted?”
My mind goes blank when Aurora’s shirt falls to the floor, then her shorts. “No, and I’d rather not discuss my family while you’re naked.”
“Okay then. It’s settled.”
“You had one here.” She traces a tiny scar below my bottom lip, her finger cold on my heated skin.
We sit facing each other in the sand, the roar of the ocean in the background, her legs over mine, my hand resting on her hip. We took the obligatory picturesque beach selfies. I tried to hide my face by kissing her neck or shoulder, but I’m sure out of the hundreds she snapped, there are bound to be a few she deems worthy to send to my sisters.
I suck my lip into my mouth, pinching it between my teeth, a habit born from years of chewing on the missing ring, and nod.
