Ryan turns, his expression shifting from annoyed to politically pleasant when he sees who’s asking. “Cal. I didn’t realize you danced.”
“Only when the company’s worth it.” I flash my most charming smile—the one that’s gotten me out of trouble more times than I can count. “And I’d hate for Charles’s sister to spend the whole night dancing with just one partner. Wouldn’t want people to get the wrong idea.”
It’s a calculated jab—suggesting that Ryan’s monopolizing Parker’s attention in a way that might cause gossip. Wrapped in charm and a smile, but a jab nonetheless.
Ryan’s jaw tightens slightly, but he’s too well-bred to refuse.
“Of course.” He steps back, releasing Parker with obvious reluctance. “I’ll go get us some champagne, Parker.”
“Thank you,” she says politely.
Then Ryan’s gone, disappearing into the crowd, and suddenly it’s just me and Parker on the dance floor with a dozen other couples swaying around us.
I offer my hand. She takes it.
And the moment our skin touches, everything else falls away.
I pull her close—closer than Ryan held her, close enough that I can smell her perfume and feel the warmth of her body through the storm-grey silk. My hand settles at her waist, finding thecurve of her hip through the fabric. Her hand rests on my shoulder, light but present.
We start to move, and it’s different than with Ryan. She’s not stiff anymore. Not distant. She melts into my lead like she was made for it, our bodies finding the rhythm together without effort.
“You look beautiful,” I say quietly, keeping my voice low enough that only she can hear. “The dress is... perfect.”
“Thank you.” Her sea-glass eyes meet mine, and there’s something soft in them that wasn’t there before. Not forgiveness, exactly, but not anger either.
Understanding, maybe. Or patience.
We sway together, the music washing over us, and for these few minutes I can pretend that we’re not at a gala surrounded by hundreds of people. That she’s not here with another man. That I haven’t spent the past two days terrified that I’ve destroyed something precious beyond repair.
“I have a friend,” Parker says after a moment, her voice barely above a whisper. “Someone discreet. A lab tech who owes me a favor from California. She’ll update me when the results are ready.”
My heart stutters. “When?—”
“Soon. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe the day after.” Her fingers tighten slightly on my shoulder. “When I know, I’ll want you all there. To learn the results together. All four of us.”
The relief that floods through me is so intense it’s almost painful. She’s not shutting us out. Not punishing us by withholding the information. She wants us there.
“Thank you,” I manage.
“Don’t thank me yet.” But there’s no heat in it. Just statement of fact. “You still have a lot to prove.”
“I know.”
We turn together, the movement smooth and practiced. Storm-grey silk brushes against my legs. Amber beads catch the light. Steel-blue accents gleam.
“The colors,” I say, because I can’t help myself. “You’re wearing?—”
“I know what I’m wearing, Cal.”
“Why?”
She’s quiet for a moment, just moving with me, her body fitting against mine like it was designed for this. Then: “Because even when I’m angry, even when you’ve fucked up, even when I’m here with him—I’m still yours. All three of you. And I needed you to know that.”
The words settle in my chest, warm and aching and full of hope I don’t deserve but desperately need.
“I love you,” I say quietly. “I know I don’t have the right to say it after what I did, after doubting you, but I need you to know. I love you, Parker. And I will spend however long it takes proving that I’ve learned from this. That I can be what you need.”
“I know you love me.” Her voice is soft, understanding. “That was never the question. The question is whether you trust me. Whether you can choose me over doubt when things get complicated.”
