Downstairs, where we all gather by the door and wait for the cars to come around to the front of the palace, is the best kind of chaos. I’m beaming ear-to-ear, a cheeseburger in one hand and a glass of champagne in the other, as I chat with my family, greeting everyone and exchanging compliments.
Jacks sighs and deftly takes the glass from me, setting it on a table by his side as he speaks. “Luca doesn’t want me to come,” he murmurs, raising an eyebrow at me. “Oh, Luca won’t even know you’re there,” I say, waving a hand to dismiss the idea. “Seriously, Jacks –“ “No, seriously, Ariel,” he
I frown a little, looking Jackson over, wondering what his plans are. I mean, he’s dressed – he’s got a coat. If he was just going back to his room, he’d be in pajamas, wouldn’t he? “I’m going to go watch the fight in a bar,” he says, nodding to me. “Actually, the one I used to work at – I’m going
And even if a little piece of my attention will be at some restaurant bar downtown, baring my teeth at waitresses…well, Luca doesn’t need to know that, does he? “He’s too good, that boy,” mom says, unable to help a little glance over her shoulder back towards the palace, to where Jackson is presum
“I should probably know more about boxing,” I murmur to Rafe, at my side, as we get out of the car to the flashes and the shouts of the paparazzi. My handsome brother laughs warmly down at me, offering his arm. “Yes, you probably should,” he murmurs. “Considering who you’re mated to. What do you k
“He is?” I ask, my eyes going wide. I pass my drink back to Jesse for a moment and slip my jacket from my shoulders, suddenly feeling warmer, probably from the anxiety his words produced. “Yup,” Jesse says, nodding to me seriously. “The Atalaxians have apparently brought one hell of a fighter.”
“I don’t know,” Daphne says, tilting her head and narrowing her eyes a little in a challenge. “Are your Midwinter cookies any good?” Jesse sighs sharply. “Nah, our cookies are crap.” Daphne bursts out laughing again, and Jesse goes with her. “Seriously,” Jesse continues, shaking his head. “Mom
Dad’s frown deepens, so I double down. “Mom said I look pretty,” I say, quickly shifting my hand so I point at her now. Mom gasps a little in protest at my betrayal, but dad ignores it all. “You do look pretty, Ariel,” he says, his words even and slow. I drop my hand with a grin, realizing that