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“I said overplayed, different crime entirely.”
“Well, Bri is the one who changed my playlist,” Ember fires back.
I huff playfully. “Because nobody wants to arrive at a fun family friendly event listening to men screaming over demonic instrumentals.”
Jax leans forward between the seats and the warm scent of cardamom, spice and something distinctly autumn hits me instantly. Seriously, why does he have to smell that good too?
“She has a point. Heavy metal is just people screaming and making noise,” he laughs as Ember pulls into the convention centre and parks next to Luna’s van.
“Get out of my car,” she scoffs, flipping him off as we step out and join the others.
I burst out laughing while Jax clutches his chest theatrically.
The atmosphere all morning is easy. Warm. Like we’ve all known each other longer than a handful of days, and we spend the next hour messing around with props before the doors open to the public. Ember immediately finds a replica sword and starts duelling with Lennie while Jax keeps pulling me into photos.
“Another one,” he says, hooking an arm around my shoulders while snapping another picture. “Give me your number and I’ll send these over to you.”
He says it so casually that I almost miss the way my heartbeat stumbles. He wants my number.
Maybe it means nothing, maybe I’m reading too much into it, but suddenly I’m wondering if this is flirting? Or if I just want it to be?
Before I can overthink it any further, I rattle off my number and pretend my stomach didn’t just flip.
At some point during the chaos, I notice Saint slipping away toward one of the side corridors. He moves quickly, shoulders tense beneath his dark shirt. I’m still staring after him when a security guard props the double doors open a few moments later. Saint is still there, talking to someone. A man I don’t recognise and the conversation looks serious. Full of sharp gestures and tight expressions. A strange feeling curls low in my stomach. What on earth is he up to?
“Earth to Bri.” Jax waves a hand in front of my face.
“Hmmm?”
“You looked like you were witnessing a murder.”
I glance back toward the corridor, but they’re gone. “It was… Nothing,” I say slowly. “Just thought I recognised someone.”
Chapter 27
Saint
Ember’s black Corsa pulls into the parking lot two minutes after us, music thumping before the doors even open. Bri climbs out first, giggling at something Jax says, and then he appears grinning like sunlight, whilst Ember flips him off affectionately.
The sight of them twists something inside my chest. These people have been nothing but kind to me. And I’ve lied to every single one of them.
“Come on,” Bri calls. “Before the peasants arrive.”
Jax gasps dramatically. “You can’t call customers peasants, Bri.”
“I absolutely can.”
Within minutes they’re all running around the convention floor—before the doors open—playing with props like a bunch of oversized children. Lennie finds a foam sword and immediately declares himself king of the traders. And Ember challenges him to a duel to the death on the spot, whilst Luna records everything for blackmail purposes.
Meanwhile, Jax grabs an oversized plasma rifle—in an attempt to impress Bri—and the weight of it pulls him over. He lands on the floor with a heavy thunk and Bri laughs so hard she gives herself hiccups, before tripping over her own feet and landing next to him. The scene is ridiculously adorable and I stifle a laugh, as the twisting in my gut kicks in again.
I don’t deserve to be here.
Today should feel exciting. The first full day of the convention, doors not even open yet, surrounded by my new friends, and yet I feel… Flat. But it’s not really the convention making me feel this way. It’s watching them. Watching him. After last night—after the quiet, unglamorous way Jax showed up for Bri with nothing to gain from it—proving once again that I’ve had him wrong all along. And I have no idea what to do with that. I’ve turned it over the entire drive in and I’m still flummoxed by it.
The drive itself, with Luna and Lennie, had been… Nice. Quiet, but nice. Lennie kept trying to fill the silence with music trivia and awful impressions while Luna stared out the window nursing a coffee the size of her head. Something between them feels strained though, stretched thin in a way I can’t quite place. They’re still kind to each other, still talking, but there’s tension tucked beneath every glance. I didn’t dare pry though. I’m hardly the authority on honesty myself these days.
I sneak off while they’re all distracted. The corridors outside the hall are quieter as the buzz of the staff and traders dulls behind concrete walls. Leaning against one for a second, I scrub both hands over my face. I need to tell them. I should do it tonight? But how?