Page 121 of Hymns of the Broken

Silas shrugs and heads for the door. “Not anymore.”

***

The scentof sizzling burgers wafts through the air, mixing with chlorine, sunscreen, and leftover tension. Ash and Jace are at the grill—Ash flipping patties with way too much flair, and Jacewearing an apron that saysKiss the Cook,He’s Singlein red letters.

I’m stretched out on a lounger, towel around my waist, still damp from the pool. Riot is close enough to steal my body heat, his hand casually resting on my thigh. Jasper’s across the patio, sitting on the edge of a lounge chair like he’s been waiting to pounce. One leg is bouncing. A can of Coke in his hand. Watching.

Macee strolls out of the house like she owns the place—oversized sunglasses, wine glass in hand, phone in the other. “So… is this the part where we pretend we’re normal and no one’s been eye-fucking each other since breakfast?”

Ash doesn’t even turn around. “I am normal.”

Jace barks a laugh. “You put mayonnaise on a hot dog. You lost normal a long time ago.”

Silas finally emerges from inside, barefoot, holding a beer and with an air of disappointment. “Are we eating or just flirting until someone dies of thirst?”

Ash gestures toward a tray. “Almost done. Don’t rush the process, man.”

“I will literally pay you to rush the process.”

Jace fake-gasps. “You want me to flip your meat?”

Silas doesn’t miss a beat. “I want you to shut the hell up.”

Laughter breaks out across the patio, and for a moment, everything feels easy. The sharp tension from earlier softens into something more breathable. Less like a match waiting to be struck, more like the quiet glow after a fire’s burned through.

Riot leans toward me, his lips brushing just behind my ear. “You want me to make your plate?”

I glance sideways at him. “You offering because you’re sweet or because you want to pick what I eat?”

His smile is sweet, but cocky. “Both.”

Macee snorts beside me. “If he brings you one burger with ketchup in the shape of a heart, I’m pushing you both in the pool.”

I roll my eyes but smile. “Noted.”

Jasper hasn’t moved, but his eyes are still on me. Always. He doesn’t say anything as he takes a slow sip, his expression unreadable. Calm. But under the surface, I can feel the heat in his gaze.

“Okay, gang,” Ash announces, stepping back from the grill with exaggerated flair. “Food’s done. No one was set on fire. I consider that a win.”

“Yet,” Silas mutters.

We gather around the patio table. Riot fixes my plate like it’s sacred. Macee immediately swaps drinks with Jace to mess with him, and he fake glares at her. Jasper brushes past me to sit on the other side of the table, not touching me—but close enough that I can feel the heat of his stare across my collarbone.

The conversation turns to tour gossip, the next venue, and a band that supposedly trashed their hotel room last week. The vibe shifts. Playful. Familiar.

And for now, we let it be.

Even though I can still feel Riot’s fingertips on my thigh.

Even if Jasper’s silence says more than any words could.

JASPER

Lunch settles into a lazy, sun-drenched lull. The poolside table is scattered with empty plates and half-finished drinks. Everyone’s loud and full and pretending there isn’t a goddamn war brewing just under the surface of every glance.

Sawyer’s lounging in the chair across from me, still in that black swimsuit that’s been testing every shred of restraint I’ve got. The straps hug her like they were made to be undone by my fingers, and I haven’t stopped thinking about the way she sounded moaning Riot’s name last night.

But I’m not mad.