Page 65 of Ballrooms & Blackmail

Rory is cuddling with Violet and baby Mia, declaring the living room, “Ground Zero for Gossip.”

Briar is raiding the kitchen and passing baked goods to Chrissy and Tiff, who are placing them neatly on trays they’re bringing over to the coffee table.

Marie is walking around the place, muttering about where the walls used to be and wondering if all the plumbing is brand new.

“I can’t believe they matched the floor that perfectly,” she murmurs, distractedly taking a tray Chrissy holds out and carrying it over to the table as well. Rory tugs her down beside her on the couch and passes her baby Mia, declaring, “Cute baby trumps house renovations.”

Marie bops Mia lightly on the nose and smiles. “Maybe.” She blows a raspberry. “Maybe not.”

“Rude,” Chrissy calls, but she’s smiling too.

Rory glances over at me, expression growing serious. “Quit hiding and explain yourself, missy.”

I sigh and grab the last tray Chrissy’s put together, carrying it over. She and Tiff follow with wine and juice for the preggo in our midst (Rory this go around). “There’s nothing to explain.”

The quiet that follows my statement calls silent bullshit on me.

“Um,” Rory eventually says, “want to try that again?”

“Not really.” I busy myself filling up plates—extra fruit tarts for Tiff, no coconut for Rory (it’s the one food she can’t stand during her pregnancy), cookies of all shapes and sizes for Marie, an even spread of everything for Chrissy. I take my time with plating and with passing them out and with refilling everyone’s drinks, and with cutting a tiny bit of fruit up for Mia to gum at.

But even all that delaying doesn’t get me off the hook.

“Honey,” Tiff says gently, “even I wasn’t this delusional.”

Marie nods. “The last time we were together you were a prickly hedgehog any time Thorn came near.”

“Or flinching away from his touch like it was poison.” Rory lifts her hands, palms out. “No judgement, babe. God knows my ex did a number on me too. I’m just saying that a lot has changed.”

She’s not wrong.

“I…” I exhale and stare down at the cookies—the sugar cookies with extra rainbow sprinkles. “I trust him. Like…deep down I know he won’t hurt me.”

Chrissy takes my hand. “I’m glad for you.”

“But…” I swallow. “You don’t think it’s too fast?”

Rory laughs long and loud.

I frown. “What?”

“You made that man work for months for just a smile,” she says. “That’s hardly fast.”

“But a week ago,” I whisper, “I was?—”

Chrissy’s fingers tighten. “Sometimes life moves at a snail’s pace…”

“And sometimes one moment drags you along at warp speed,” Tiff finishes, her expression very far away. Because if anyone knows anything about a billionaire moving at warp speed, it’s Tiff.

Jean-Michel…well, he figured out what he wanted.

And has never let it go.

Has Thorn done the same?

Warmth creeps slowly into my chest and I nibble at the inside of my cheek.

Because—