Chapter 39

JESSICA

The garden is stupidly beautiful.

Fairy lights hang like stars from the trellises, weaving through blooming white roses and night jasmine. The long table sits in the middle of it all, wrapped in soft gold linen, glowing candles flickering down the center. Someone even had the audacity to put real crystal glasses out

I know exactly whose work this is. Grayson’s mother. She’s obsessed with gardens, beauty, appearances. And it’s working–if I didn’t feel like was about to be gutted and served with dessert, I might’ve enjoyed this.

Logan leans in. “This looks like a wedding rehearsal dinner.”

I elbow him. “Shut up.”

He snorts, unbothered, and steals a grape from the tray in front of us.

I smooth down my dress for the third time and instantly regret wearing it. It’s too soft, too clingy. Too pretty. I feel like I’m trying too hard, which is pathetic, because I don’t even know why I’m nervous. It’s just dinner. With my brother. And Grayson. And Logan. And Aria.

Okay. That last one explains it.

Aria looks like a goddamn porcelain dagger. Pale pink silk. Thin straps. Glossy lips. Every move she makes is too graceful, too intentional, like she’s performing for someone.

Grayson hasn’t said a word to me since we sat down. I wonder what’s making my baby sad? I smirk at that thought.

“So,” Aria says, tilting her head at me. What a bitch. “I just really wanted to meet the people Grayson grew up with. Since we’re all going to be family soon.”

I take a long sip of water, just to keep myself from laughing in Aria’s face.

Family. She really said family.

Bitch thinks because she wore a pastel dress and memorized/a few facts about Grayson’s mom’s roses, she suddenly gets a seat at the table? more than once. Grayson’s mother probably still waters the hydrangeas Please. I’ve bled on this soil. Fought on it. Gotten fucked on it too beside the training field without knowing her future daughter–in–law had her legs over her son’s shoulders right there last week.

Aria’s still babbling, her hand grazing Grayson’s bicep in that fake–innocent way. He doesn’t look at her. Doesn’t touch her. But he doesn’t stop her either.

I don’t blame him. If he blinked too fast, he might get accused of mistreating her or whatever polished bullshit she’s rehearsed with her father. Aria’s not subtle. She’s a glass doll with a blade behind her back – too pretty, too practiced. She’s here to perform.

I shift in my seat, casual as hell, and stretch my leg under the table until the arch of my foot brushes against the inside of Grayson’s thigh.

Bullseye.

to make his knife

Got you, baby.

sweetly, reaching for my napkin. I press it to my lips like I’m hiding a smile. “You’ve barely touched

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Chapter 39

eyes flick to mine. Stormy. Dangerous.

fine,” he says, but his voice is lower now. Rougher. That’s the voice ite uses when

smirk off it.

just so glad your father arranged this,” she’s saying. “It’s lovely to

such exquisite taste,” Aria continues, as if she doesn’t notice Grayson’s hands curling into fists. “The decor… the food…

my toes just below

I love making the

on his mouth now, tongue darting out to wet my lower lip. “You sure you’re

doesn’t answer. His knuckles whiten where he grips his fork. His thigh tenses

Challenge accepted.

my foot up one

right over the thick, hot bulge straining under his

He twitches.

a blink. A sharp inhale.

the way his cock pulses under the pressure

Oh, baby.

chewing. Pierce is sipping wine like

really bond with everyone. I mean, when I’m Luna, it’ll

Ugh. Shut up, Aria.

flaring. He drops his

I press harder.

Aria is still talking.

people you grew up with,” she says. “But I want to

his bed, in his office, up against

I wonder if he’s hard enough it hurts. I hope so. I hope he sneaks into my room tonight. Climbs through

right now? He can’t do a damn thing about it. I brush him one more time slow,

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Chapter 39

of my wine. “Such a lovely dinner,” I purr. “We should do this more often. His gaze traps to me if ever could bitz 14

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