Page 19

EMORY

H arrison Parker shouldn’t be here. He knows this is our bar. He’s courting disaster.

My gaze flicks to my brothers, who aren’t watching, thank god. They don’t know the truth about our breakup, but they’re well aware of the aftermath—the table I lit on fire, the photos of Harrison on social media, the investment he pulled after I embarrassed him.

And worst of all, the way everyone in his world knew about it before it even happened. I was the butt of the joke, just like I was in high school.

“You need to leave,” I say without preamble.

Harrison turns from where he’s standing at the bar, his gaze dropping to my chest— asshole —before rising to my face. He smirks, tapping one manicured finger on the bar. How did I ever find that smirk attractive?

“Emory Hunter. How nice to see you.” His voice is like poison sliding through my veins. Harrison thinks he’s clever and charming, and I did too, until I saw who he really was.

Too late. I was blind to his real personality, and I paid the price.

“Get out ,” I grit. “You’re not welcome here. They’ll cause a scene.”

His smirk turns into a smile, a sharp one, all teeth and no humor.

“Is someone going to key my car? Maybe burn something down?” He turns more fully toward me.

“How are you, Emory? Still looking”—his tongue taps his teeth—“good.” His voice lowers on the last word, and I fight the urge to tug at the bottom of my top until it covers my skin.

Somehow, he makes good sound like trashy . He got that quality from his mother.

What a daring dress, Emory, darling. You look so bold. My teeth grit at the memories.

Harrison is too dumb to realize he shouldn’t be here, or he’s drunk and looking for trouble.

“Last warning,” I say. My eyes flick to my brothers again. Benny is straightening, realizing what’s going on. “Get out of here, and we’ll pretend it never happened.”

His eyes go flinty. “I’d like nothing more.

You ruined my image. And you weren’t even good in bed.

” He scoffs, and I freeze. He must sense victory, because his mouth curls again.

“Would have assumed you’d be better at it, what with all the inappropriate outfits and your family’s reputation.

And now you’re married to him .” His gaze darts to Aiden before landing back on me.

The viciousness in it feels like a physical weight.

“Our world will never accept you, you know. Stay where you belong.”

Harrison’s words might be poison, but there’s a kernel of truth, and every beat of my heart pumps that poison through me. He’s right. Harrison and Aiden’s world doesn’t want me.

Fresh humiliation races through me, just like it did the night I confronted him, at an event I wasn’t invited to, in front of all of his friends, people I hoped might be my friends too.

You can’t actually think I’d marry you.

Guys like me don’t marry girls like you.

You were a fun distraction, but you’re too much. You’re not marriage material.

I swallow, eyes blurring, skin prickling. And then Aiden’s arm winds around my waist.

I lean into him without thinking. He’s heat and solid muscle, steady breaths, broad shoulders. A port in a storm.

Harrison straightens, the slimy prick. “Aiden Prince.” There’s a clear note of respect in his voice.

Aiden’s status hits home for me, perhaps for the first time.

The richest family.

The oldest son.

A Prince, whose name graces buildings, whose face graces ads. Who has the power to destroy someone like Harrison.

The Heir, when everyone else is an heir with a mere lowercase h . Harrison might hate me, but he’ll do anything to stay on Aiden’s good side.

Harrison sticks out his hand. Aiden’s face tightens, and then he does what his grandfather did to me that day in high school.

His gaze goes through Harrison. There’s something different about him right now.

Colder. Harder. This is the Aiden most people see.

The one I’ve seen for years. The version I’ve been getting tonight must be the real him, and I didn’t even realize it.

He’s been slowly cracking open pieces of his personality for me.

I don’t know what to think, but something melts inside me, a slow, warm drip filling my chest.

“Problem?” my husband asks. His hand tightens on my waist, warm and solid, and somehow, the subtle threat of it keeps me centered.

“We were just catching up,” I say, keeping the tremble from my voice, my gaze telling Harrison to shut the fuck up. The only thing worse than my brothers coming over here is Aiden making a scene.

“You’re looking casual.” Harrison eyes Aiden’s black t-shirt and faded jeans like he’s going to run home and mood board a whole new personality.

“I suppose I am.” Aiden glances down before sliding me a smirk. There’s a warm glint in his eye, one I’ve never seen before. It makes something twinge low inside me. “Emory’s request. What my wife wants, she gets.”

Harrison chokes a breath, but I can’t look away from Aiden. My pulse is beating double-time in my throat. Of course this is what Aiden would do. He knows how Harrison’s world operates. This cool putdown is Aiden’s version of a scene.

“Right, sweetheart?” His thumb grazes up my neck, like it did at the pool table.

“Right,” I say, somewhat unsteadily. The casually possessive gesture has me reeling. Aiden is a better liar than I expected.

“I forgot you were married,” Harrison lies. There’s a bite to his voice.

Aiden flicks him a glance, his brows tugging down. “Did you miss the announcement?”

“It was pretty hasty,” Harrison says snidely. “Surprisingly so.” His eyes flick rudely over me, his tone implying we have something to hide. Harrison spread horrible rumors about me after our breakup, and I can only imagine what he’ll do now if he senses our lies.

My muscles lock, then shake. I feel like prey about to bolt, and I would give anything in this moment to be drunker, or stronger, or richer, or to care less than I do.

Aiden is three of those four things, and his deep chuckle cuts into the silence. His lips graze my ear, sending a full-body shudder through me. “I needed to make sure she couldn’t go anywhere.”

Harrison sneers.

I’m frozen while Aiden plays fake husband and my awful ex thinks of fresh ways to humiliate me. There’s a girl across the bar filming us.

“We should go.” My heart trips over itself.

Harrison looks like he wants to say something more. Aiden seems to be relishing his role as savior.

And I can’t think of anything worse than being stuck in this embarrassing scene playing out in my favorite bar.

“My brothers are looking for me.” I turn, barely seeing the bar, my steps mechanical, gaining speed as I pass the hallway where Aiden kissed my neck, the pool table where I laughed with him, then past my brothers, whom Leo is restraining with both hands, then out into the blessedly silent night.

My body nearly shakes at the relief of being outside. It’s cool for late May. We’re a few streets from the beach, and the scrub pines provide cover for night insects but don’t shield us from the moonlight.

It smells like salt and sea and the musk of a fire burning somewhere. It smells like home. I shiver and tuck myself into the corner of the deck.

Please don’t let Aiden follow me.

He defended me inside. I don’t know what to make of it, but I know I don’t want him to see me like this.

Of course, he follows, because Aiden has always done the opposite of what I want.

“What did he say to you before I came over?” His voice rolls over me before it’s torn away by the wind through the pines.

I brace my hands against the railing and let my hair cover my face. “Go away, Aiden.”

“Emory,” he says, his voice low and coaxing.

“He said I was trash. It’s fine.” It’s not fine. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Come on, Emory.”

I shake my head again, and he steps forward. I tense. And then the door slams open, and I hear Benny’s voice and Leo’s low tones in response.

“Come here.” Aiden tugs at my arm. “Put your face in my neck.”

“Why would I do that?” But I’m already letting him wrestle me close.

He pushes my head against his collarbone. “You said you didn’t want to be soft.” His hand lands on my upper back. “You can’t let them see you cry.”

“I don’t cry.” My voice is muffled by his t-shirt and the heavy planes of his chest. His Aiden-salt-soap scent fills my nose, even outside. I want to bottle it and huff it in secret, like I do sometimes after he showers and the bathroom smells like him.

“You never cry?” His voice sounds amused, and then his thumb brushes against my cheekbone, where it’s wet.

I knock his hand away, but not before I know he’s picked up the tears there.

“I cry when I watch the Olympics. And at singing competitions. That’s it.”

He huffs a breath that I feel in my body.

“I don’t,” I insist.

“Why not?” His hands are loose now, and I could step away, but I don’t.

“Crying is like asking for a favor.”

“How’s that?” The low rumble of his voice makes my cheek vibrate.

I sigh. Of course Aiden doesn’t understand. “When you cry, you’re asking for comfort. Implicitly. You’re not giving the person on the other end a choice about it, either.”

He makes a sound in his throat that might be understanding or might be disagreement. “What happened with him?”

I still, letting my wet eyes rest against the skin of his throat, appreciating for the first time how he doesn’t feel the need to fill silence with words.

“We dated.” My voice is muffled.

His hand traces over my ribs. “And?”

“And it ended badly. You never saw the photos of me?”

I hate those photos as much as I love the ones of Harrison. “Believe it or not, Emory, I don’t spend my time googling you.” His voice is as dry as the wind stirring my hair, and something warms inside me.

“I lit a table on fire.”

He chuckles under my cheek. “Well, now I do want to see those photos.”

“It was bad. He pulled the investment. My dad blamed me.”

“Ah. That’s why you need the land. To make up for that.”

“Yeah.” That’s part of it, but I’m certainly not sharing the rest. I sigh a breath at the same time Aiden does, our chests pressing and releasing, our breath mingling in the night air. Not friends, but not enemies, for the very first time.

Aiden smooths a hand down my back. “Feeling better?”

“Regrettably, yes.”

He laughs at that.

“What?”

“Just thinking that you must really hate this,” he says with a hitch of his lips.

I roll my eyes and pull away, but not before he catches my wrist and tugs me back. His eyes are soft. Must be the moonlight, because I know he’d never be soft for me.

“I don’t want favors from you, Aiden.”

He shrugs. “You don’t even like me. I don’t like you. What’s the big deal?”

I sigh but step back. I don’t want comfort from Aiden.

He’s more like Harrison than he is like me.

I wipe at my face with the heels of my palms and avoid looking at him or my brothers.

I can only hope Leo is keeping them from plotting Harrison’s murder.

Though it’s more likely he’s coming up with inventive ways to hide the body.

God, this is embarrassing.

“I bet you never cry,” I say.

He’s silent, and when I look back at him, his face is unreadable in the moonlight. “I’ve wanted to,” he says abruptly. “I locked myself in that house instead.”

There’s a hard wrench in my chest, like a piece of me is trying to break off and comfort him.

“When your dad died,” I say.

He nods.

“Aiden, I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head. “We don’t need to talk about it.” His voice is flinty. I can practically see him pulling into himself.

“If it makes you feel better—”

“It won’t.” He pulls out his phone. “Katie will take you home. You’re too drunk to drive.”

I wrap my arms around myself, trying not to be hurt by the way he’s shutting down. This is Aiden , I remind myself. He might play nice when we’re inside the bar, but we aren’t actually friends.

We don’t even like each other.

“You’re not coming?” I ask.

He shakes his head, eyes on his phone. “I have something I need to take care of.”

He keeps me silent company until Katie arrives in a black SUV, and then he turns and goes back inside. I’m too tired to ask why he’s not joining us, but it’s the first thing Katie says when I get in.

Well, the second, after she tells me to get in the back seat and not the front.

“I’m not sure why he’s not coming.” I watch Aiden disappear into the bar, shoulders tight and head lowered. “It was a weird night.”

She makes a noise of agreement. “Bars aren’t really his thing.”

“You’re doing it again,” I tell her.

“What?” She meets my eyes in the rearview.

“Making excuses for him.”

She gives a soft laugh. “I love him.”

Cold slithers through me until she snorts a louder laugh. “Oh god, not like that. I just meant I love all of them. I’ve been part of their family for a long time. He’s a good person. The best, actually.”

Part of their family, and yet not.

“Don’t you feel a bit like an outsider?”

She startles, a brief tensing of her shoulders, before she turns onto the road that leads to the estate.

“Sometimes,” she acknowledges. “But they’re the most loving group of siblings you could ever want.

Or not want.” She grins at me. “Tristan can be fucking annoying, and Sienna is outrageous, and Whit’s, well…

he’s so Whit . But they’ve had to stick together.

And yet they still manage to be warm and fun and make space for outsiders.

You can probably see how Sienna hopes desperately that you’ll be her sister-in-law and how Tristan is already inviting you into his schemes.

” She shakes her head as we approach the Crownhaven gates.

“So yes, I do feel like an outsider, but it’s worth it to be part of their little group. ”

“And Aiden?” I notice that she didn’t mention him liking outsiders.

“Aiden is complicated.” She sighs. “I know him the least, and sometimes I wonder if anyone truly does outside of Tristan.” She gives me a rueful smile as she pulls up to the house. “I shouldn’t be spilling the beans.”

“Employers wouldn’t approve?”

“Oh no. I don’t approve.” She shakes her head, like she knows she’s ridiculous. “Anyway, if you want to spar tomorrow or Monday, Sienna and I are meeting at nine a.m. And I can take you to work after.”

I’m halfway out of the car when she offers, and I nearly stumble in my wedges. “That’s okay. I can drive.”

“I’d really rather take you. You’re a Prince now.”

“Ew,” I say, but my voice is faint.

She turns to me. “Get used to it. It’s like a storm. You don’t even realize you’re one of them until you are.”

Something pinches in my chest. “Night, Katie.”

“You know when he’s coming back?”

“Not sure. He told me he had something to take care of, but nothing else.”

Her brows lower in concern. For a moment, I almost tell her we should go back to the bar. Aiden might be mixing it up with my brothers, blowing our cover.

Then I shake my head and wish her good night. Aiden Prince is not my problem.