String lights hang between the trees scattered over the grounds, and sitting areas consisting of vintage couches and coffee tables holding appetizers are placed in small grassy nooks. It’s breathtaking and not at all what I expected.
I’d expected something flashy, loud, and overstimulating. Not this serene and low-key vibe. I’d also expected crowds, but we’re early, and only a few other guests hover near the bar.
Locke orders us a round of drinks, and by the time he returns to the small coffee table flanked by two surprisingly comfortable chairs I’ve chosen, the crowd has swelled.
Celebrities flood in from the red-carpet entrance we managed to avoid. Actors, models, musicians. Some I recognize; some I don’t. No one noteworthy, at least not to me.
Then, I feel it. There’s a shift in the air, like all the oxygen is being sucked out of the room. And I see her step in: Sienna Vale.
The face of beauty. An untouchable goddess. The woman every girl wants to be. Her image has covered magazines, perfume campaigns, and lingerie ads for as long as I can remember.
Yet here she is, glittering in champagne sequins with a blush-pink faux fur shrug slung low around her shoulders. A walking disco ball who looks perfectly at home, thriving in this space. I try to rip my gaze away, but my eyes refuse to listen.
As she settles in at a table, her eyes sweep the crowd. She notices Locke first, and her face lights up with recognition. When she notices me next to him, her eyes narrow in assessment, and she immediately stands again. A venomous smile curves the corners of her mouth as she strolls in our direction.
I know that smile. It’s the same one I wear when I’ve chosen my mark.Lucky us.
Locke seems to have noticed, too, because he’s gone completely still. I’ve never seen him like this. Not speaking, not smirking, not even pretending at control. If he’s still breathing, I can’t tell.
The man who commands every room he walks into is frozen solid. There must be a history here, and whatever happened between them is clearly something even I can’t comprehend. I brace myself as she closes the distance.
“Locke!” she croons, wrapping her arms around him in a hug that looks staged for cameras that aren’t even here. Clearly, this is her performance, and we’re just the supporting actors.
“Sienna,” Locke mutters in a tone full of grit and disdain. Letting her and me both know exactly how he feels about seeing her tonight.
She ignores it, taking a step back to brush away a strand of hair that has fallen in front of his face. “It’s been so long; you look even more handsome than the last time I saw you.” Her gaze snaps to me as she says it. I fight the urge to roll my eyes, but keep my mouth shut.
Locke backs away to escape her grip. His lips twitch, and a spark of amusement glints in his eyes as he pulls me in closer. “This is Arden. My date.”
I slide my arms around him and flash her a wicked smile. “Nice to meet you, Sienna. I’m a huge fan.”
A look of surprise that quickly turns into irritation takes over her expression, but she recovers fast, bypassing me and turning that smile back on Locke. “I didn’t realize you were bringing company.”
“Funny,” he shoots back, “I didn’t realize you were still relevant enough to be here.”
Sienna’s eyes narrow, just a fraction. “Careful, Locke,” she murmurs. “We both know how messy things can get when we argue.”
I lean in closer to his chest, and his arm comes around me without hesitation. Sienna’s smile tightens in a way that lets me know she isn’t a fan.
The tension hangs between us, her eyes daring me to look away first. I won’t. I’ve had too many run-ins with real-life monsters to let a washed-up mean girl have the upper hand.
Instead, I shift my hold on Locke so that we face each other. I reach up, my fingers tracing the exact line of his temple where her hand just was.
I don’t just touch him; I purposely hook my finger under that same strand of hair she just tucked away and pull it back down. I watch it fall across his forehead, messy and effortless, exactly the way he usually wears it.
Those golden whiskey eyes meet mine, and his breath hitches, a low, rough sound that has nothing to do with the woman standing two feet away. I keep my hand there, my thumb tracing the edge of his cheekbone as I finally turn my head to look at her.
“I don’t know,” I say, my voice dripping with feigned innocence as I admire my work. “I think he looks much better when he isn’t so polished. It’s a bit more authentic, don’t you think, Sienna?”
The silence that follows is deafening. Sienna’s face goes from pale and flawless to blotchy, insulted red. She looks like she wants to reach out and strangle me. Locke’s hand settles firmly on my waist, pulling me flush against his side, claiming me without saying a word.
Sienna scoffs, and her nostrils flare. A sharp intake of breath is the only thing keeping her from making a scene. Without another word, her heels echo a sharp clicking sound against the walkway as she retreats into the crowd.
I wait until she’s out of earshot before I finally let go of him, though I don’t move out of his space. His expression is full of shock, a dark sort of amusement, and something else… something raw, almost primal.
“So…” I murmur, “you dated Sienna Vale?” My heart hammers in my chest from the rush of watching her perfect mask crumble, and the heat of his hand still resting comfortably on my waist.
His jaw flexes, disgust dripping from his voice as he says, “Honestly? It’s something I try to forget.”
