My mom cries. Graham looks at her like she hung the damn moon. The guests clutch tissues. The string quartet plays somesoft, romantic shit that makes my chest tighten in a way I don’t want to examine.
Lex stands beside his father like a carved statue – sharp jaw, emotionless face, hands folded in front of him. He’s wearing the same suit from earlier but somehow looks even more put together, even more annoyingly perfect. His gaze flickers to me once, then twice, then too many times for me to pretend it’s accidental.
I try not to look back.
I fail.
And then the vows are done, the kiss is sealed, the applause erupts, and everything becomes noise.
By the time the reception ends, I’ve downed five glasses of champagne and two shots of something I didn’t botheridentifying. The music is loud. The lights are hazy. And I just need air.
So I slip outside.
The night is cool, a soft breeze rolling off the river. The water glows gold under the lanterns strung along the patio railing. My head feels pleasantly heavy, my pulse low and warm.
I close my eyes, breathing in the silence.
But silence never lasts long when Lex is around.
The door clicks open behind me. Footsteps. A muttered curse. And then the sharp flick of a lighter.
I don’t turn.
I know it’s him from the way the air shifts – tense, irritated, undeniably magnetic.
A beat passes. Two.
Finally, I glance over my shoulder.
Lex is leaning against the stone column, tie gone, shirt rumpled, hair a little out of place like someone dragged a frustrated hand through it.
He looks… human.
Dangerously human.
“You smoke now?” I ask, voice lazy from the alcohol.
He exhales, smoke curling out like a warning.
“Only when I’m trying not to murder someone.”
I snort.
“Let me guess. Me?”
“Always.”
I walk closer, because alcohol makes me brave – or stupid.
“Touching. Really.”
His eyes drag over me, slow, assessing. Not hateful. Not quite. More like he’s trying to figure me out and hating himself for failing.
“You look ridiculous in that color,” he mutters.
“It’s my mom’s favorite.”
He goes still, jaw ticking. For a second, his expression flickers – something almost soft – but he kills it fast.
