She ignores him, reaching for his arm and draping it over her shoulders and across her collarbones.
“Perfect,” she murmurs, lifting her phone.
He glances down at her, jaw tight, then tightens his hold ever so slightly—enough to pull her flush against him.
Heat sweeps across my cheeks and I quietly slip away, feeling like I’m intruding on something I’m not supposed to see.
Back at the table, Mia scrolls through her camera roll, chewing on a straw, while Landon sits across from her, trying his best to pretend he’s not looking.
Wesley’s hand rests on my thigh beneath the table, fingers flexing like he can’t help himself.
Out on the dance floor, Lydia spins in the arms of some random guy.
Emmett notices, his jaw ticking before he drains the last of his beer and scrapes his chair across the floor, making a show of shifting closer to Tori. He drapes his arm over the back of her chair, leaning in with a grin that’s equal parts cocky and reckless.
“So how much longer are you gonna pretend you don’t wanna give that mouth something better to do—right here, right now?” His voice dips lower, but it’s still loud enough to draw stares from the next table over.
Tori doesn’t even blink. “I’m not pretending, dickless. You’re just too pathetic to take a hint.”
Emmett only smirks wider, like he gets off on riling her up, but something is off.
“Want me to tag you?” Mia asks, glancing up at Landon.
Emmett snorts. “That’d require him actually having an account.”
“Ugh. Okay, grandpa. We get it. You walked to school uphill both ways in a blizzard.You’re so tough,” Mia fires back.
“How fucking old do you think I am?” Landon practically growls.
She ignores him, pivoting smoothly. “So, Robyn is dead set on me doing the PR thing.” She takes a sip of beerbefore continuing. “Fake boyfriend, blah blah blah, control the narrative and all that bullshit.”
“That sounds exhausting,” I say. “Have you picked out the lucky bachelor yet?”
“I keep telling her to pick that duke or viscount or whatever. She could be literal royalty,” Tori chimes in, sucking on a lime.
“Oh, is that what it takes to earn your affections? To come from a royal bloodline?” Emmett says with a laugh, but she doesn’t play along.
“It’s only temporary. I’m not marrying the guy,” Mia adds, tossing her phone face down onto the table.
“Poor bastard, whoever he is. Don’t know why anyone would sign up for that nightmare,” Landon mutters, too sharply.
Mia doesn’t look at him, but the corner of her mouth quirks up—just a little.
I get lost in the feeling of Wesley absentmindedly squeezing my thigh while Emmett doesn’t give up trying to win Tori’s affections.
I’m still in awe that this is happening—my two worlds are colliding, and everything is okay.
Thecabinsmellslikecoffee and pine, warm and sharp all at once.
Sunlight pours through the sheer curtains, painting the wood floors in gold. Mia’s curled up on the leather couch in an oversized T-shirt, legs tucked beneath her, while Tori digs through her bag by the bathroom door, still rambling through a story I stopped paying attention to ten minutes ago.
It’s still so surreal to me that they’re actually here. I invited Lydia to stay in the cabin with us but she said she was too tiredto come over last night. I want to believe her; I have no reason not to.
“Okay, I’m showering now,” Tori announces, towel slung over her arm. “Try not to miss me too much,” she calls out, voice echoing as she disappears down the hallway. The bathroom door clicks shut behind her.
The silence that follows is unsettling. I chew my lip so hard it stings, but it does nothing to suppress the uneasy feeling in my stomach. Tori is an acquired taste, sure, but something about her feels different. Maybe I’m just overthinking it.
I glance at Mia, but she doesn’t look at me. In fact, it seems like she’s making an effort to avoid eye contact. The pit in my stomach swells to a black hole, until finally her eyes meet mine.
