Silence settles in—not comfortable, but familiar. The kind we’ve lived in since we were kids. Outside, laughter cracks across the pool; and someone cannonballs hard enough to send water slapping against the patio slab. Meat sizzles on the grill. Smoke drifts in through the cracked back door.
The air feels heavy, humming with the weight of expectation I’ve known for as long as I can remember. Coco throws a party; we show up. She holds court; we orbit. This is tradition and obligation and muscle memory.
I take a slow pull from my beer and let the cold settle in my chest. Might as well enjoy myself. Not that I’ve got anywhere else I need to be. Not tonight.
Cruz nudges my arm with the side of his bottle. “What about you? Crashing here?”
I shrug. “We’ll see where the night takes me.”
He smirks. “So… yes.”
I open my mouth to tell him where he can shove that when something flickers at the edge of my vision. Movement at the side gate, the main entrance to the backyard. I glance up andsee three figures walk through the entryway like the universe is fucking with me on purpose.
My grip on the beer bottle freezes.
Bellamy.
Sunlight hits her hair and turns it into honey, and her skin glows in the late light. Her sunglasses hide her eyes, but not the way her head tilts as she scans the space like she’s looking for me. Or, fuck, maybe she’s counting exits and threats. Old habits die hard and all that.
Next to her is a girl who looks like her reflection. Same posture, same jawline, same fuck-around-and-find-out energy. Must be her sister.
And then there’s the guy. Tall and broad. Close enough to her that something sharp punches under my ribs.
Noshit. She actually fucking did it. She got married.
A rough sound scrapes up my throat before I can stop it.
Rafe follows my stare. “Who is that?”
I force myself to swallow, set the beer down, and answer with a shrug that feels loose in all the wrong places. “My plans for the night.”
Rafe’s brows jump, but he keeps his mouth shut.
Cruz, unfortunately, does not. “Oh, this is going to begood.”
I ignore both of them.
I rake a hand through my hair and straighten my shoulders without meaning to. My feet move before my brain catches up, carrying me toward the patio doors like gravity’s got a personal vendetta. My pulse is thumping hard enough that I feel it in my fingertips. Excitement hits me fast, square in the chest. I haven’t felt that in… god. Fuckingyears.
I push the door open and step into heat and sound, weaving through bodies and sunlight until I’m right in front of her.
She turns when she senses me close, chin tipping up. The sunglasses stay on, hiding everything I want to see. But I don’tmiss the slight curve at the corner of her mouth. Amusement or warning? With Bellamy, it’s probably both.
“I didn’t think you were actually gonna show,” I say.
She shrugs, casual as sin. Her black tank and cutoff shorts should not make it this hard to think, but here we are.
“You gonna introduce me?” I ask, nodding toward the two beside her.
She hesitates just long enough to make me itch, then gestures to the woman at her side. “I don’t know if you remember, but this is my sister, Lola.”
Lola shifts her weight, one hip cocked, blonde hair in loose curls around her shoulders. She dips her chin in a greeting that feels more like a threat. “Calloway.”
I can’t help but grin. I mirror her tone exactly. “Hale.” Then I look at the guy. “And you are?”
“Beckett,” he says, voice even.
The name hits me like someone snapped a rubber band behind my ear.
