Then she says, a little softer, “I didn’t know it was…real. That it still is. With him.”
I drop my hands and glance at her, my voice barely above a whisper. “I wasn’t positive either. Not until just now.”
She nods, quiet for once. “You okay?”
I hesitate. “Yeah. I think so.”
Even if everything’s complicated, and messy, and probably going to hurt, I’m okay.
She nods, her tone more serious than usual. “Whatever you need, Jinx. Even if it’s just someone to stand watch, so you can get that kiss in the hot tub next time.”
I laugh quietly. “Noted.”
She leans her head back, sighing. “Alright, enough emotional whiplash. My heart can’t take this many feelings in chlorine.”
“You started it.”
“Yeah, and now I’m ending it—with cheesecake. You in?”
I grin. “Only if we run and beat Knox to it.”
“Loser gets slapped with a wet towel.”
We scramble out of the hot tub, dripping and half-laughing, the heaviness between us dissolving just a little with every step.
The night’s not over. Neither is the mess in my chest. But for now—cheesecake and friendship are enough.
CHAPTER 74
Finn
The bar isquiet in that curated way high-end hotel bars always are: dim lighting, soft jazz no one’s really listening to, and the faint clink of glass on marble. The scent of citrus and bourbon hangs in the air, mixing with the colder undertones of hotel descenter and filtered air-conditioning.
I’m tucked in the corner, far enough to blend in, close enough to feel the heat ripple across the tile when she walks in.
Willow.
Her name flares behind my eyes. She’s wrapped in a towel, still dripping from the pool, her wet hair clinging to her shoulders. Water slides down the slope of her collarbone and disappears beneath the fold of terrycloth. My drink stills in my hand. The ice knocks against the crystal like it’s feeling the same tremor I am.
Her friend is beside her, laughing, loud and carefree. But I don’t hear her. My ears are filled with the rush of blood and something else.
Need.
Landon’s gone. Her pack is nowhere in sight. And here she is—smiling, soft, untethered.
It’s fate. Or divine design. This moment is written in the stars.
I rise slowly, adjusting the cuffs of my sleeves. My heart is a stuttered drumbeat in my chest, my breath shallow.
Willow tosses her head back, a ribbon of laughter spilling from her lips just as I reach them.
“The sign says no wet bathing suits,” I murmur, letting my gaze trail down the curve of her shoulder, to the droplets racing over her skin, to the puddle forming at her feet. She curls her toes instinctively, her whole body suddenly aware.
I bring my eyes back to hers—blue meeting mine with the exact mix of caution and spark I crave. “But I’m glad you’re a rule breaker.”
“Finn,” she breathes, her voice barely a whisper.
Her friend stills. Not with fear. With recognition. She knows who I am. Good.
