“Oh,” she says.
“Oh,” I agree.
“That’s a little sad. For Sonnet and Muse.”
“Maybe, but they’re no less unique or kind than you are. With the way we grew up, though, that third one gets a little murky.”
“I hate that,” she says. “I hate that you guys had to grow up like that, and I hate all of the aftermath it caused in your life.” She hesitates, and I brace myself. “I hate it so much. I do. But… I’m sorry if it’s insensitive to say, but… I’m not sorry that it brought you here to me. My life would be less without you, and I’m so selfishly glad that you’re in it.”
I take a moment to allow myself to fully enjoy the soft, cushiony comfort of loving and being loved by a woman who does nothing but bless the people around her with her mere existence. I stand in my small, safe home in my small, safe town, and I revel in all the goodness it’s seen fit to bestow upon me. Then, I say, low and choked, “I’m so glad I’m in it, too.”
The conversation moves on, at first a teary mess of words we can barely get out. Then teasing and laughter flow, before we mellow into a comfortable, contented time of just being together. And I find that I am also, selfishly, impossibly glad for all of the terror that my sisters and I experienced in our childhood, because it brought us here to October. Because it brought Sonnet and me to Blackwood Brew—to Gilbert and Belinda. Because it brought me to their home, and to their daughter, the very best friend a girl could ever want.
Chapter Five
?
Enemy behavior in an enemies-to-lovers romcom? Wild.
Poem
There has never and will never be anything on this earth more chaotic than an eight-year-old girl’s birthday party. Not only has half the town shown up at the bar—a prime place for a kid’s birthday party if ever there was one—but if my estimates are correct, every child within a thirty-mile radius has also shown up.
Blue, green, and pink streamers cover every available inch of ceiling, dangling down just low enough to tantalize jumping children into believing they have a chance at pulling them down. Balloons float through the air as kids volleyball serve them to each other. At the bar counter, a toddler shrieks when his brother blows a party whistle in his face. A gaggle of little girls dance and scream along to Stray Kids blasting from a speaker in the corner of the room.
I sip at a can of peach Alani, watching it all unfold.
It’s chaos. Pure, overstimulating chaos.
In other words, Fox is freaking out, and I’m having a blast.
“I think that little boy over there got into the beer well,” I say, tipping my Alani can at a tiny blond boy gripping an amber-tinted glass bottle. “Are you sure you locked everything up tight?” I flutter my eyelashes as Fox’s face goes red.
He curses before marching over to little Davie Tanner. He rips the bottle out of Davie’s hands, prompting the young boy to burst into loud, wailing tears.
Fox checks the bottle, then winces, passing it back to red-faced Davie and apologizing profusely to his mother, who glares down her upturned nose at my gullible boss, lips pursed with disgust.
I suppress a smile.
Across the bar, his sky-blue eyes meet mine, promising murder.
I wiggle my fingers at him.
“Are you causing trouble?” Wolfe Blackwood asks from my right, and I turn to the heavily tattooed man, letting my smile loose.
“I’m always causing trouble,” I answer, leaning into one of the tall, wooden bar tables beside me. “Did you know that you can still buy root beer in glass bottles?”
Wolfe snorts, eyeing his twin as he runs a hand through his bleached white hair. “You don’t say?”
“And did you know that Davie Tanner’s mom is a top-tier man hater?”
Wolfe’s gaze rolls to me, amusement in the beautiful blue. So like his brother, and yet, so not. “I did know that,” he answers.
I burst into sweet, evil laughter.
A low, irate curse hits my ear as rough hands land on my waist, constricting as they pull until my back meets hard, uncomfortable chest. The scent ofFoxand sandalwood surround me. “I’m gonna kill you,” Fox hisses in my ear, folding himself over me. “Why do you have to be such apest?”
“It’s fun,” I reply, widening my eyes at Wolfe.
