“You shoved me first,” he counters. “I was just finishing what you started.”
I narrow my eyes playfully. “Keep talking, and I’ll finish you.”
Milo’s grin turns wicked. “Promise?”
Before I can answer, I feel his hands slide lower on my waist. I squeal as he lifts me again, threatening to dunk me, but this time he just holds me there, suspended in the air, our faces inches apart.
We’re both laughing, dripping wet, completely lost in our own little world as the rest of the pool fades into the background.
Yeah… definitely fucked.
And I’ve never been happier about it.
Chapter Forty-Two
Sienna
Girls’night is in full swing at Aria’s villa, and it feels as if the entire week has been building toward this exact moment.
The living room is a glorious mess of blankets, pillows, half-empty wine glasses, and snack bowls. Face masks are smeared on every face, hair is in various stages of braiding and curling, andThe Princess Brideplays at a low volume because we all know the lines by heart anyway.
I’m sitting on the floor with Aria between my legs, carefully braiding her hair as she leans back against me. The familiar rhythm of my fingers through her blonde hair brings back a thousand memories—sleepovers, secrets, late-night giggles when we were supposed to be asleep.
Claire passes around another bottle of wine—the “one max” rule went out the window about an hour ago—topping off our glasses.
“Okay, truth time since we’re all masked up and vulnerable,” Claire says, setting the bottle on the coffee table. “What’s one thing you’re most excited about for tomorrow?”
Aria answers first, her voice soft and dreamy. “Seeing Ethan’s face as I walk down the aisle. I’ve dreamed of this moment since he bumped into me at the coffee shop while I was running latefor my midterms. He was wearing that terrible plaid shirt, yet hestillmanaged to make my heart stop.”
Mom smiles warmly from the couch, her pink clay mask making her look surprisingly youthful. “I’m excited to watch my baby girl marry the man who looks at her the way your father used to look at me.”
Lillian’s eyes mist as she looks at Aria. “I’m excited to watch my son become a husband and to officially gain you as my daughter. On paper, anyway—you’ve been part of it ever since Ethan brought you home that first Thanksgiving, covered in paint and smiling like you already belonged.”
All eyes turn to me. I hesitate, fingers still working through Aria’s hair. “I’m just excited to finally see my sister get her happily ever after. And honestly? For the speeches, I’ve been writing mine for years. Always second-guessing it, adding jokes, taking them out, adding them back…”
Aria spins to look at me, her eyes wide with mock horror. “Ugh, please don’t put anything embarrassing in the speech. I swear, if you tell the grape story?—”
I nudge her with my knee, grinning. “You gave me full rein, remember? I’m not holding back. The world deserves to know about Grape Aria.”
She groans dramatically. “I take it back. Speech rights revoked. Effective immediately.”
Claire laughs from the couch, nearly spilling her wine. “Too late. We all want to hear the grape story now.”
“Absolutely not,” Aria shakes her head frantically, but she’s laughing too. “You better not include that, Sienna. If you do, I’ll tell everyone about that time in college when you?—”
I clamp my hand over her mouth, silencing her with a dramatic “Shhh!” The girls burst out laughing as Aria tries to lick my palm to make me let go.
“Listen,” I say, my voice muffled by laughter as I still hold her mouth shut. “I’m an open book and will admit to almost anything… but some stories are meant to stay buried. Deeply buried. Like six feet under, with a concrete slab on top.”
Aria mumbles something against my hand before I finally let go, wiping my palm on her arm as she gasps for air.
“I mean it,” she says, eyes narrowed in playful warning. “No grape story. Or I’m telling everyone about that time when you?—”
“There aresomany stories you could tell.” I cut in.
“So if I mention pro?—”
I tug gently on a strand of her hair, cutting her off. “You wouldn’t dare.”
