“Tell us everything about the engagement!” Chloe demands, her colorful cocktail matching her vibrant personality. She leans forward, eyes sparkling with excitement. “Every. Single. Detail.”
“He’s absolutely perfect,” Olivia gushes, her face lighting up. “Powerful, wealthy, and those eyes!” She fans herself dramatically. “I mean, have you ever seen eyes that shade?”
I take a long sip of whiskey, welcoming the burn down my throat. The memory of those same eyes locked on mine at the cliff edge makes my skin prickle with heat.
“Dad says it’ll be the marriage of the century,” Olivia continues. “The wedding’s set for next spring at the vineyard.”
Daisy slides closer to me on the bench, her quiet presence somehow steadying. While Olivia details wedding plans and Chloe peppers her with questions, Daisy nudges me gently.
“Are you okay?” she whispers, her voice barely audible over the lounge music.
“Just tired,” I lie, forcing a smile while guilt churns in my stomach. I can’t tell anyone about the electricity I felt with Hunter. About how wrong it is that I can’t stop thinking about my sister’s fiancé.
Chloe suddenly straightens in her seat, subtly nodding toward the bar. “Ladies, don’t look now, but I think we have admirers.”
“You think everyone’s an admirer,” Daisy says with a small smile.
“That’s because everyone is,” Chloe fires back, tossing her blue hair. “The tall one hasn’t taken his eyes off Aurora since we walked in.”
“Maybe he’s just jealous of my whiskey,” I say, grateful for the distraction.
I glance over at the bar, following Chloe’s not-so-subtle head tilt. The man is leaning against the polished surface, drink in hand, his gaze indeed fixed on us. Tall, with broad shoulders and the kind of jawline that belongs on a movie poster. Objectively handsome in his tailored navy suit, clearly expensive from the way it fits his athletic frame.
Our eyes meet. He smiles, confidence radiating from him as he raises his glass slightly in acknowledgment.
I should feel something. A flutter. A spark. Any normal woman would.
But there’s nothing. Just... emptiness.
Unlike the spark that shot through me when Hunter’s storm-gray eyes locked with mine. Unlike the way my skin burned where his fingers gripped my arm at the cliff edge.
I turn away, taking another burning swallow of whiskey. What the hell is wrong with me? The gorgeous guy at the bar practically has “eligible bachelor” stamped on his forehead, while Hunter Reed is my stepsister’s fiancé. My SISTER. The man is literally taken, announced to the world tonight as Olivia’s future husband.
And here I am, unable to forget the way he looked at me, like he was memorizing every detail of my face.
“Aurora?” Olivia nudges me, breaking my spiral of self-loathing. “You didn’t hear a word I said, did you?”
“Sorry,” I mutter, forcing myself back to the conversation. “Just distracted.”
“I was asking if you’ll help with the wedding planning,” she repeats, excitement coloring her voice. “You have such good taste.”
My stomach drops. Planning my sister’s wedding to the only man who’s made me feel alive in years.
Fuck my life.
I drain my whiskey, welcoming the burn. “Of course I will,” I hear myself say, the perfect supportive sister, while my insides twist with guilt.
5
HUNTER
The bass thrums through Elixir’s walls as I descend the private staircase to the VIP section. Our section. The place where the Vipers conduct business is away from prying eyes, hidden behind one-way glass and soundproofing that costs more than most people’s houses.
Penn’s already holding court at our usual table, surrounded by bottles of top-shelf liquor and the kind of women who know better than to ask questions. He spots me immediately, that wild grin splitting his face.
“There he is!” Penn shouts over the music. “The man of the fucking hour! Or should I say, the engaged man?”
I flip him off as I drop into the booth beside Ari, who’s nursing what looks like a glass of scotch and scrolling through his phone with that lazy elegance he’s perfected.
