“Are you okay?” Oliver whispers.
I nod, not trusting myself to speak. It’ll all happen way sooner than I thought. The crowd’s roar rises as the horses round the final bend, but all I can focus on is my impending doom.
Probably a little overdramatic, but it feels like it.
As the excitement of the race reaches its peak, Misha leans in closer, his breath warm against my ear.
“Bug,” he murmurs. “How about a hike tomorrow?”
I turn my head to look at him, curiosity piqued. “A hike?”
“Yes,” he says, louder now, a smile playing on his lips. “I’d love to see your favorite hike. Seven Sisters? I did some research, and James mentioned that you guys don’t have anything planned on Sundays. Oliver and Grey would join us.”
Do I really want to do this?
I’m still mad.
Or hurt, rather.
But I would do almost anything to get away from my parents’ critical gazes for a few hours.
Before I can respond, August speaks up. “We can’t say no to a hike, can we, Amelia?” he asks, his voice dripping with forced enthusiasm. “Abigail and the girls would love to come too, right, love? And what about you, Daniel? Going to join us?”
“Of course,” Daniel replies smoothly with a hint of challenge.
A knot of dread forms in my stomach.
“We planned to go pretty early,” Misha tries, but it’s no use with my brother.
“Oh, don’t worry, we’ll be there.” He smirks.
This is going to be a disaster, a family affair with all the complications that come with it.
Misha senses my hesitation and squeezes my finger once more as he whispers, “It’ll be fine, Bug.”
I force a smile, trying to push down the anxiety bubbling up inside me.
Sure.
Fine.
Because what could possibly go wrong?
NINE
Thank fuck that’s over.
The door slams shut behind us as we enter the room they’ve given to Grey, and I slump onto the edge of the plush, white bedspread, working at the knot of my tie with fumbling fingers.
Misha flops down beside me, the bed groaning under his sudden weight. He rips off his suit jacket, tossing it carelessly onto the polished floor. His dark curls bounce as he laughs. “God, that was awful. Huge hats and tiny sandwiches, these posh people are nuts.”
Indeed.
I can’t suppress my chuckle. “I mean, it was something else,” I agree, the images of thundering hooves, the roar of the crowd, and a sea of hats merging into a vibrant blur.
I would have never gone to such a place if it wasn’t for Amelia. But I would do everything and anything if it meant I could spend time with her.
Grey leans against the mahogany dresser, his fingers absently tracing the carvings. A hint of amusement warms his usual stern expression. “Did you see that one guy who was using a monocle to inspect his champagne glass?”
