Page 7

Chapter seven

Jade

T he sun is too bright.

It’s stupid, really. A perfect summer afternoon, blue sky stretched overhead, a few lazy clouds drifting like they don’t have anywhere better to be. Warmth soaking into my skin like something that could, theoretically, be healing if I let it. If I trusted it. Which, of course, I don’t.

I sit at the edge of the pool with my bare feet dangling in the water, swirling little ripples across the surface.

The tiles are warm beneath me, sun-baked.

I pull my knees up tighter to my chest, still wearing my hoodie even though the day is begging me to shed it.

There’s a pair of swim trunks under here, sure.

Hiding under the long hem of my oversized hoodie.

I put them on like a normal person. But I’m not in the mood to feel normal.

Normal feels like a lie.

Pink is stretched out like a cat on one of the sun loungers, head tipped back, sunglasses perched on his nose.

He’s wearing the most ridiculous neon orange swim trunks that clash violently with the faded towel he’s half-reclining on.

His skin glows bronze from the sun, sleek and glossy, like he belongs in some magazine shoot for summer decadence.

He has bloomed since meeting Monty, doubly so since getting married. My best friend is thriving. Healing. Radiating health and happiness. Despite the worry for Monty’s missing little brother .

Blue is in the pool already, of course. He moves through the water like he was born from it, and that’s because he was.

His blond hair is slicked back, and he runs a hand over it before ducking under again.

He surfaces with a smile, eyes bright. Even though he’s been through hell, the same hell as me, he still finds a way to sparkle.

Maybe it’s the siren in him. Maybe it’s something stronger.

Maybe it is Sammy and the joy of having a mate. Your very own special person. Someone to share your life with.

I envy that.

I wrap my arms tighter around my knees, watching them both from the shadow I’ve made of myself.

“You know,” Pink drawls lazily, not even bothering to look at me, “if you don’t get in soon, I’m throwing you in. Hoodie and all.”

“I’d like to see you try,” I say, though there’s no heat in it. My voice feels like it belongs to someone else. Someone who isn’t wound tight as piano wire.

Pink glances at me, lifting his sunglasses to peer over the top of the frames. “You’re brooding again,” he observes. “It’s a nice day. No brooding allowed. House rules.”

“We have house rules?” I murmur.

“We do now.”

Blue pushes himself up onto the pool’s edge beside me, water streaming off him like liquid glass. He leans a little closer.

“He’s right, you know. You look like you’re thinking too hard.”

“But I suppose that’s allowed,” adds Pink, quick to make amends and keep the peace, as always.

Blue hums in agreement, head tilted back so the sunlight catches silver threads in his hair. “You’re doing that thing again.”

“What thing?”

“That thing where you stare at the water like you think it’s going to swallow you whole.”

I glance at the pool, then back at them. “Maybe I like the idea. ”

Pink pushes his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose just far enough to peer at me properly. “Maybe you should stop being so dramatic and come cool off.”

“I’m not being dramatic.”

Both of them laugh, easy and warm like the day itself, and I roll my eyes but can’t quite hide the smile tugging at my mouth. This is how it always is with them, like sunlight through a storm cloud. Like I can almost forget the weight in my chest for a little while.

I shift position. The tiles are warm beneath my skin, grounding me. I trail my fingers through the water. Cool. Inviting. Alive in a way that makes my pulse skip, even now.

Blue watches me with that knowing little look of his. “You’re distracted.”

“I’m fine.”

Pink snorts. “He’s glowing.”

“Shut up.”

“Not until you tell us who he is.”

“I didn’t say there was a he.”

“Bestie,” Pink says, sitting up straighter, his voice softening just a fraction. “You didn’t have to.”

My throat tightens. I want to deny it, make a joke, push it away like I always do, but the truth is already written all over me. I can feel it, bright and ridiculous and far too dangerous.

I went on a not-date with Flyn and then I had a bout of insanity this morning and asked him out.

“It’s nothing,” I say. My voice isn’t even convincing to my own ears.

Blue tilts his head, studying me the way only he can. Like he’s listening to something beneath the surface of the conversation, some current pulling at me from underneath. Siren senses. He can hear lies like a song.

Pink catches the look and leans forward, propping his chin on his hands. “Jade.”

“It’s not…” I start, then stop. Exhale slowly. “It’s not nothing. ”

Their eyes light up like I’ve handed them a gift.

“Oh my god,” Pink breathes. “You like him. Like, like, him . ”

“Maybe.”

Blue smiles, slow and soft. “It’s Flyn, isn’t it?”

My heart stutters, the useless thing that it is. “I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to.”

Pink lets out a triumphant squeal and splashes water at me with both hands. “I knew it! I knew it was him! You’ve been mooning over him since forever.”

My face burns hotter than the sun overhead. “I have not.”

“You have,” Blue says gently. “And that’s okay.”

The words settle over me like a second skin, too fragile and too dangerous all at once. Because it’s not okay, not really. Not when I’ve spent so long convincing myself that I don’t get things like this. Not after everything.

But I want to. Goddess, I want to.

I lean back on my hands and let my head tip toward the sky, the sunlight warm against my closed eyelids. “We had dinner.”

Pink makes a delighted noise in the back of his throat. “Was it a date?”

“No,” I say, too fast. Then, quieter, “Not officially.”

Blue’s smile doesn’t waver. “But it felt like one.”

I swallow past the knot in my throat. “Yeah.”

There’s a beat of quiet, save for the soft lap of water against the pool tiles and the distant hum of summer insects. When I risk opening my eyes again, they’re both watching me, but there’s no teasing now. Just quiet understanding.

Pink pushes his sunglasses up into his hair and swings his legs around to sit cross-legged on the lounger. “Do you want to tell us about it?”

The question is gentle. A lifeline, if I want it.

I do.

So I tell them. Not everything. Not the whole messy tangle of nerves and longing and fear clawing at my chest, but enough.

How Flyn looked when I first saw him again, like the sun had chosen him as its favorite canvas.

How his laugh curled in my chest and refused to let go.

How easy it was to fall into old rhythms, like no time had passed at all.

How much I wanted to reach for him. How much I still want to.

When I finish, Pink’s eyes are suspiciously shiny, and even Blue looks a little glassy-eyed, though he tries to hide it behind his usual calm.

“And you’re seeing him again tonight?” Pink asks, voice full of breathless hope.

I nod, unable to keep the stupid smile off my face. “Yeah. I am.”

“That means this evening we need to help get you ready.”

“I’m not…”

“Don’t you dare say you’re not making a big deal out of it,” he cuts in, wagging a finger at me. “Because it is a big deal. And you deserve to feel good about it.”

Blue hums in agreement. “You do.”

Their belief in me feels like a weight and a blessing all at once. I don’t know what I did to deserve them. I don’t know how to carry this fragile hope inside me without it shattering.

But I want to try.

“He’s got you smiling,” Pink observes, triumphant.

I shake my head, the corners of my mouth betraying me. “Maybe. A little.”

The truth is, it’s more than a little. The truth is, when I think of Flyn, I feel something dangerous flickering in my chest. Not like the hunger the fey taught me to cultivate. Not the siren pull of Blue’s old songs. But something quieter. Warmer. Like sunlight through a cracked windowpane.

It’s terrifying.

It’s intoxicating.

I want it.

I want him .

“You know,” Pink says, pushing to his feet and stretching in the sun, “for what it’s worth, you deserve this. We all do. But you especially. You deserve something good. Something that’s yours.”

I swallow hard against the lump rising in my throat. I don’t trust my voice, so I just nod.

Blue gives me a nod in return before sliding back into the water with a graceful splash. He moves away, leaving me with Pink, the afternoon, and my tangled thoughts.

Pink studies me a moment longer, then flashes a wicked grin. “Come on, moody boy. In the pool. It’ll clear your head.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“No thinking. That’s the rule.”

Before I can protest, he lunges. Fast. Unrelenting. He grabs me around the waist and hauls me, hoodie and all, straight into the water.

I yelp, arms flailing, but it’s too late.

We crash beneath the surface, the world exploding into cold clarity. For a breathless second, everything else drops away. The uncertainty. The doubts. The weight of memory.

Just water. Sunlight rippling overhead. The muffled sound of laughter.

When I break the surface, sputtering, Pink is already grinning like he’s won some unspoken victory.

“There,” he says, pushing his wet hair back from his face. “Better.”

And damn him, he’s right.

The hoodie clings to me like a second skin, heavy and soaked, but for the first time all day, I feel unburdened. I laugh. An honest, startled laugh that actually feels like it belongs to me.

Pink whoops in triumph, and even Blue joins in, his smile wide and gleaming.

For a heartbeat, it feels almost easy. Almost possible.

Maybe tonight, when I see Flyn, I can let myself believe in that possibility .

Maybe, just maybe, I can let him see me. Not the mask, not the shadow of my past, but the real me beneath it all.

Maybe he’ll stay.

“Thanks,” I say to Pink, my voice rough but real.

He just smiles softly in acknowledgement.

And for the first time in too long, I let myself hope.