Page 154 of The Ashes of Summer

I laugh softly. "Since when do we not have gossip?"

"Or someone to bitch about," Constance adds.

I look between them both, and the smile that comes is a real one.

"We could start," I say casually, "by talking about how long Adelaide's been sleeping with Carter."

I sip my milkshake while Adelaide nearly chokes on air.

"Summer! There's nothing⁠—"

"Oh, fuck off." Constance cuts her off with exaggerated air quotes. "'Ever so innocent Adelaide.' It is painfully obvious you two have a thing going on."

Adelaide's face turns bright red. Actually red.

Which only makes Constance worse. "Oh my God. You are sleeping with him."

Adelaide drops her head into her hands, laughing. "Okay, okay—technically nothing happened at first."

"At first," I repeat slowly.

She points at me. "Don't you start."

Constance leans forward like a gremlin sensing drama. "Details. Immediately."

"Fine." Adelaide groans. "Remember when Carter made sure Connie and I got checked over at the hospital."

"And?"

"And I threw up all over his shoes." She cringes into her hands. "Ugh. I can't believe I'm telling you this."

Silence.

Then Constance bursts into laughter loud enough that Oliver glances over from the counter.

"I was concussed!" Adelaide defends.

"Romantic," I say dryly, wiggling my eyebrows for added effect.

She points at me accusingly. "I offered to wash them. We swapped numbers. And at first it was all about you—about Jacob, about what was happening—but there was…" She waves a hand vaguely. "Chemistry."

Constance wipes tears from under her eyes. "That man is either deeply in love with you or clinically insane."

"Probably both," I murmur.

Adelaide takes a long sip and changes the subject at speed. "How's Jacob recovering?"

I narrow my eyes. "You literally already know the answer."

"Yes, but I want updates."

Of course she does. She and Carter have become disgustingly close, which means she's heard every detail through him already.

"He's better," I say. "Still gets pain in the shoulder sometimes. Especially if he overdoes it."

Constance snorts. "So constantly, then."

Honestly? Fair. Because Jacob Darnell appears to be physically incapable of resting. If he isn't working, he's fixing something around the house, reorganizing paperwork, checking in on the women from the warehouse, or hovering near me like I might dissolve if he looks away too long.