Joy bubbles like champagne in my veins. Like every day I spent with Loch before.
I stand by my truck; he stands by his. Our cabins await, our booted feet shuffling over gravel. There’s so much to say, but we don’t.
Until Loch smirks, eyes sparkling. “I really loved stalking you today, Alena. And for the record: it wasn’t boring.”
With a flash, I realize…
All the times Loch told me the truth.
All the ways he wove fact through fable.
All the moments he made as real and romantic as possible.
Because he knew. He knew he’d lose me, so he fought for me as long as he could.
But now it’s just him and me and the truth.
And he’s never looked this beautiful.
“Glad it wasn’t boring.” I swallow, shrugging. “Careful though: my trip tomorrow to the drugstore for sunscreen will be a real snoozer.”
He laughs, and I fight the pull—hot air to a cold mountain. I’m not ready for our storm again. Not yet.
I’m not ready to say good night either.
But we do.
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
LOCH
“And we’reall standing in the shitter at the airport, why?” Grant asks, folding his scarred, jacked arms.
My brothers circle me in the only place we’ll have privacy for a week. Our flight boards in five minutes, and I’m sweating bullets.
“Because he needs our advice, dipshit.” Sire smacks his head.
“I think it’s a good idea. Go big or go home,” Nick coaches me before he turns to Zar, teasing, “Why don’t you play the ukulele forme, baby?”
“Because I’d rather blow your big horn.” Zar’s not joking.
“I’m serious,” I grumble. “Am I gonna look like an idiot?”
“Uh,yeah.” Nash grins, way too thrilled to see it. “It’s the whole point of groveling.”
Axel cocks a brow. “Did you clear this with the flight crew?”
Nick scoffs, “We’re all in first class. If we want to serenade the pilot, we paid enough to do it.”
“But what if it’s too soon and you’re rushing her?” Jace echoes my worry.
“What if he sounds like cats being murdered in a bag, and Alena wants to nosedive into the Atlantic, so he’ll stop?” Sire laughs. “Just how long is this song?”
“I don’t fucking know, man. It’s fromThe Wedding Singer. Our favorite movie.” I wave the ukulele I hid in my carry-on. “I’ve been too busy learning this fucking thing and memorizing lyrics.”
“Is Billy Idol gonna be there?” Grant piles on.
“Fuck you.” I groan, falling against the countertop. “Forget it. Even if Alena likes it, I’ll never hear the end of your relentless shit for it.”
