Music thumped through the crowded bar. Glasses clinked. People laughed loudly around high-top tables while servers weaved through the room balancing trays of drinks and appetizers.
She tugged her neckline up for the thousandth time since leaving her apartment. Lark smacked her hand away.
“Stop messing with your shirt. You look incredible,” her sister assured her.
“Coming here on such a busy night was a bad idea,” Wren said. “Maybe I should have started with a Monday night first.”
Lark rolled her eyes. “Monday nights are worse, especially in the fall. All the bros sitting around, chugging pitchers of beer and watching football on the big screens. You’d hate it.”
Lark wasn’t wrong. Wren would hate that more. But only by a small margin.
Her sister grabbed her hand but made no move to pull her farther inside. “I’m so proud of you for doing this,” she said, in a serious voice Wren didn’t often hear from her fun-loving, sarcastic sister. “I know this is hard for you, so if it really is too much, just say the word and we’re out of here.” Lark squeezed her hand. “But I promise, I won’t leave your side while we’re here. I’m your true-blue, stuck-like-glue, girl.”
Wren smiled in appreciation. “I know that. Thanks.”
Lark released her hand, looping their arms together as she steered her inside. They only made it half a dozen steps before Lark froze. “Shit.”
Wren followed her gaze—and instantly forgot how to breathe.
Grayson sat at a corner table with his brother Everett, and his cousins Nora and Remi.
“I thought you said Grayson never came to ladies’ night.” Prior to food poisoning, Wren’s plan to get out of the evening was telling Lark it would be dangerous for the two of them to be out together where Grayson could see them, and perhaps connect some dots they didn’t want connected.
“He rarely does,” Lark grumbled. “I mean, I’m here nearly every Wednesday, and I’ve seen him here once—twice, tops. Besides, when I talked to Jace today, he said he couldn’t make it tonight, and he seemed to think none of the other Storms were coming, either.”
“Looks like a few of them changed their minds. You know…they haven’t seen us,” Wren said, spying an escape. “We could just leave.”
That idea was immediately rendered moot, because apparently the universe had decided Wren’s exposure therapy needed a difficulty spike.
Grayson looked up, spotted them, and smiled.
God, why did his smile have to be so fucking perfect? It was warm, easy, and so genuine.
Everett spotted them as well, waving them over, while Remi hopped up and started stealing chairs from other tables, like it was a given they were going to sit with them.
“We can’t join them,” Wren said, refusing to move toward the table.
Lark waved back, lifting one finger. “It would look weird if we didn’t. Just act natural.”
Wren rolled her eyes. “This is stupid, Lark. What if Grayson figures out what we did? Nora is sitting right there with him. Are you willing to risk your job over a couple of beers at ladies’ night?”
“Listen. If Grayson was going to figure it out, he would have already.” Lark started making her way through the tables, dragging Wren with her. “We literally did a wine tasting together at the winery yesterday afternoon and everything was fine. Obviously, you nailed your performance of me.”
As far as Lark knew, working together was all they’d done. She didn’t know about the chemistry, the friendly conversations, the kiss.
Guilt worked its way through her system as she recalled her deceit.
Grayson couldn’t stand to be lied to, and that was exactly what she and Lark had done. His pet peeve confession had sent her into a tailspin. So much so, she’d almost scheduled an emergency session last Monday with Sophie, even though she’d just talked to her the Friday before.
Since starting therapy with Sophie, she’d been fine with two sessions a month. Obviously, she was going to have to see about increasing that to two sessions a day if she and Grayson kept running into each other.
Hearing Grayson’s recollections of his cheating girlfriend and that horrible Staci, had made her feel physically ill.
While her intention to help Lark had seemed like an innocent one-off, it wasn’t turning out that way. Because Grayson kept showing up, and their shared conversations felt meaningful and important, which meant her lie kept getting bigger and bigger.
He’d shown up at the library twice now, and she suspected that second visit wasn’t so much about checking out books, but because he wanted to talk to her.
And both times, Wren had found herself relaxing around him in ways that felt terrifying and wonderful all at the same time.
