Kaia was a few months pregnant, and it was waging war on her digestive system.
“Everything ready for this weekend?”
Her gaze drifted to the window, where the rain was tapping lightly against it. “Yeah. I hope it goes smoothly.” When she looked back at me, something anxious flickered behind her eyes. “I want it to be perfect.”
“The rain should clear up by Saturday,” I offered, trying to reassure her.
“Rain would suck, but I’m more worried about conflict this weekend.”
My stomach dropped. “What? Why would there be any conflict?”
She lifted one shoulder in a half-shrug that tried to be casual and failed. “I don’t know. There’s... a lot of tension between Trystan and Owen, and I’m hoping it doesn’t all explode before the wedding.”
My chest constricted like someone had wrapped steel bands around my ribcage.
“There’s already enough awkwardness when the three of them are in the same room,” she continued, oblivious to my sudden inability to breathe normally. “Who knows what’ll happen if something actually blows up before then.”
I leaned forward and reached for her hand, probably squeezing too tightly. “Don’t worry. Everything is going to be perfect. I promise.”
Her smile was small but genuine. “You’re right. I’m probably overthinking it.”
The garage door burst open, and we both whipped around to see Owen walk in.
Our eyes locked.
Time did that annoying thing of slowing down and speeding up at the same time, and I forgot how to perform basic respiratory functions.
“What are you doing here?” Kaia’s smile was pure innocence.
Please don’t be here to see me. Please don’t be here to see me. Please don’t…
“I’m meeting Jax,” he said, still holding my gaze hostage.
I forced myself to look away before Kaia noticed we were having some kind of weird staring contest.Very smooth, Harlow.
“We’re picking up the tuxes,” he added.
“He’s not home yet, but he should be here any minute.” Kaia pushed herself up from the chair. “Harlow can keep you company while you wait. I’m feeling queasy, so I’m going back to bed.”
No. No, no, no. Kaia. KAIA.
But she was already gone, leaving me alone with Owen like she’d tossed a lit match into a room full of gasoline and walked away whistling.
Owen claimed her abandoned seat.
“We need to talk,” I whispered, leaning forward like we were plotting a heist.
“Oh God, what now?”
The exasperation in his tone should have annoyed me. It definitely didn’t make my heart do anything weird.
“You can’t break up with Cam right now.” I pitched my voice low enough that it barely qualified as sound. “And youdefinitelycan’t tell her about…”
His brows crashed together. “Why not?”
“You need to wait until after the wedding.”
“Why?”
