“So, where's the beautiful Willow today?” Ezra asks, leaning back in his chair, beer balanced loosely in his hand. “Thought she was coming.”
I should scowl or hit him across the head. Normally, I would, but I don't have the energy.
We are out in the garden, early afternoon, sun cutting through the trees, laughter drifting from the house, the smell of grilled food hanging in the air. For once, I feel. Settled. Content. Maybe even happy.
It's not just because I’m finally close to divorcing that heartless bitch, or because my family are together, waiting for the birthday girl to make her grand entrance.
It's Willow.
She's… something else. Truly. The progress she's made is astounding. Don't get me wrong, she still has her bad days where she goes quiet, forgets to eat, worries at her skin, but she smiles more now. She's made a great friend, and today she signed up for dance classes.
That alone was everything.
“She's at the Ariamotion Studios,” I say, keeping my tone light, like it doesn't mean the world.
Ezra's grin widens, real this time. “Seriously?” He lifts his beer in approval, sloshing some onto the floor before he notices and swears under his breath. “Fuck, that's brilliant. Good for her. The girl can certainly move.”
He catches my expression and lifts both hands. “Not like that. Don't hit me. I just mean—dancing was everything to her, wasn't it? Sounds like she's starting to feel like herself again.”
Slowly she is, and I’ll be there by her side all the way.
I nod, eyes drifting across the garden, to the fence scattered with fairy lights, the trees, anywhere but the thoughts creeping in. All I can think about is the other night in my office, fucking her throat and coming all over her tits. Then, after the giggles and the way she teased me as I cleaned her up before taking her home.
All I wanted to do was crawl into bed with her, hold her tight, but I couldn't.
“She's doing really well.”
Even with the worry gnawing at her about the tests she did yesterday, the results take up to two weeks to come back. Two weeks is a long fucking time, especially when I’m desperate to sink into her and worship her body repeatedly. Guess I’m going to have to get creative until then.
Ezra squints at me, something spinning in his mind. “Something happened between you two.” he points at me.
I don't dignify that with an answer. I just hit his arm.
“Keep your voice down,” I hissed. “You know Mam has freakishly good hearing.”
He bursts out laughing anyway, but we both glance toward the house. Mam is still in the kitchen, fussing over the salad that nobody ever eats. Dad slips up behind her, kisses her neck, and she smiles at him like he's her whole world.
Ezra shudders dramatically. “They're so gross.”
I roll my eyes. “Shut up. Just because you don’t know how to love, and just fuck about. Like the fact that you had a threesome with not only Willow's friend, but River's biggest crush.”
This time he swings back, but instead of hitting me properly, he clips my arm and sends my beer flying—straight down the front of my shirt.
Shit, that’s cold.
“You little fucker,” I growl, already lunging for him.
He howls with laughter until it turns into a sharp grunt when I jab him in the side and drag him into a headlock. He squirms for half a second before retaliating by pinching my nipple.
“Nipple twist,” he announces smugly.
I push him hard. “I fucking hate when you do that.”
He rolls his shoulders, rubbing the back of his neck, but still grinning away. “That’s why I do it.”
I take one step forward, ready to flatten him again, when our mam's voice interrupts us.
“Boys!” she snaps. “Will ye stop before ye break something and I have to put one of ye in time-out.”
