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Luna hums softly into her wine. “The right people make you feel less strange, not more.”

Bri’s eyes flick between us. “I genuinely can’t imagine that. Every relationship I’ve ever had,” she confides, “has been exhausting. It’s like constant guessing games and pretending to be normal. Trying to be enough. So as not to get left behind.”

“I get that,” Ember whispers. “My mum left when I was nine. Every relationship after that was basically me trying to convince people not to leave.”

Bri smiles, but her eyes betray her armour. “I was never enough for my mum either, no matter what I did.”

A soft silence descends over the group as the air changes, filled with honesty and emotion. Jax’s face softens imperceptibly, catching me off guard. I wasn’t expecting empathy.

“You know,” I say after a moment. “When I met Aaron, I told him almost immediately, that I hated certain fabrics, couldn’t stand being out in public for long, and would probably vanish for three days if overwhelmed.”

Luna lets out a low warm laugh. “Upfront and honest.”

“Oh, devastatingly so, darling,” I agree. “And do you know what that man said to me?”

“What?” Bri asks.

“He asked if I wanted to keep spare clothes in his room so that I would feel more comfortable. He even offered to buy them and any new bedding, blankets or towels that were sensory friendly for me.”

Bri’s expression crumples at that, not enough that anyone else would catch it, but I do.

“That’s love,” Luna states simply. “Someone learning your edges and accepting them so completely that, over time, you stop feeling like something that needs to be fixed.” She reaches across the sofa and squeezes Bri’s hand. “You’re not unlovable, you know.”

Bri stares at their joined hands like she doesn’t quite know what to do with them, as I instinctively put my arm around her shoulder, pulling her closer. She visibly relaxes between Luna and I for just a second, before clearing her throat. “I’m just going to grab a shower; I’ll be back in time for dinner.”

Jax watches her go with a crease between his brows. Concern. Not irritation. I’d expected irritation from someone like him. He’s different in a crowd like this. Quieter. Kinder even. The tabloids never published this version. Maybe because it’s all fake. Or maybe because it never existed until now. I don’t know which answer I hate more.

When the smell of dinner hits the courtyard, the easy atmosphere from earlier has taken a noticeable hit. Jax’s agent is standing under the veranda in an expensive coat with an expression that says he’d rather be anywhere else. He’s clutching a neat stack of papers against his chest.

“Just standard NDAs for the weekend,” he insists briskly, passing them around the table, expecting everyone to fall in line.

Jax, to be fair, looks mortified, like all the air from today was just sucked out of his lungs. I can’t say I blame him for this precaution giving his reputation, but it does seem that he was oblivious to his agent’s intentions.

Nobody argues though, which is disappointing.

Pens are borrowed; signatures scribbled without much interest.

My hand moves before my brain catches up. ‘Aaron Winters.’ The name sits there in neat black ink and my stomach drops. Before anyone notices, I slide the form beneath the others and set the pen down, forcing my expression to stay neutral.

The agent does a quick count of the signed forms in front of him. “There’s one missing.”

“She’s in the shower,” I say, before anyone else can answer. My voice sharper than intended. “Do you expect her to come out here naked? Or would you prefer to barge in on her too?”

He hesitates like he wants to linger anyway, eyes flicking toward Jax.

“We’re good Jason. There is plenty of time for paperwork later,” he says firmly, steering him toward the door with a hand between his shoulders. “Seriously. Go and enjoy your evening.”

There’s a hint of embarrassment in the smile he returns with, like he can’t believe his agent was that rude, go figure. “Sorry about that,” he mumbles sheepishly.

Lennie reassures him, “not a problem son.” Patting him gently on the back as he follows Luna back to their room to change for dinner.

“It’s all good honestly, totally understand,” Ember breathes. “See you at dinner,” she adds, waving as she walks away.

I just shrug and head back to my room.

No more running Jackson. This time the truth comes out.

Chapter 9