Lina stepped back and slid neatly under Nash’s arm. “What are you doing after this…shindig?” she asked.
I knew exactly why she was asking. They would show up for me if I asked. Hell, even if I didn’t ask. If they thought for one second that I needed a shoulder to cry on, a well-made cocktail, or my floors mopped, Naomi and Lina would be there.
“Mom booked an overnight stay at a spa with some friends, and Maeve is doing a family dinner tonight for out-of-town guests,” I said. It wasn’t a lie. My sister was hosting our aunts and uncles and cousins. But I had already planned to feign a migraine and spend the night letting out my sloppy torrent of sad in the privacy of my own home.
“Let’s get together soon. But not at work,” Naomi added sternly. “You take as much time off as you need.”
“Yeah. Definitely. Thanks,” I said.
My friends moved on down the receiving line to my mom, leaving their future baby daddies with me.
“This fucking blows,” Knox said gruffly when he hugged me.
I smiled against his chest. “You’re not wrong.”
“If you need anything, Sloaney Baloney,” Nash said, stepping in to deliver his hug. He didn’t need to finish the sentence. We’d grown up together. I knew I could depend on him for anything. The same with Knox, even though Knox wouldn’t actually offer. He’d just show up and grumpily perform some thoughtful act of service and then get mad if I tried to thank him.
“Thank you, guys.”
Nash pulled back and scanned the crowd that spilled out of the room and into the foyer. Even at a funeral, our chief of police was like a guard dog making sure his flock was safe. “We never forgot what your dad did for Lucian,” he said.
I tensed. Every time someone mentioned the man’s name, it felt like a bell rung in my skull, resonating in my bones as if it was supposed to mean something. But it didn’t. Not anymore. Unless “I hate that guy” counted as “something.”
“Yeah, well, Dad helped a lot of people in his life,” I said awkwardly.
It was true. Simon Walton had given back as an attorney, a coach, a mentor, and a father. Come to think of it, he and his greatness were probably to blame for my current marriage-less, baby-less existence. After all, how was I supposed to find a partner in life when no one measured up to what my parents had found in each other?
“Speak of the devil,” Knox said.
We all looked to the doorway at the back of the room that suddenly seemed dwarfed by the brooding man in an expensive-ass suit.
Lucian Rollins. Luce or Lucy to his friends, of whom he had few. Lucifer to me and the rest of his legion of enemies.
I hated how my body reacted to the man every time he walked into a room. That tingling awareness like every nerve in my body just got the same message at the same time.
I could deal with that innate, biological warning that danger was near. After all, there was nothing safe about the man. What I couldn’t handle was how the tingling turned immediately into a warm, happy, reflexive There you are, as if I’d been holding my breath for him to appear.
I considered myself to be an open-minded, live-and-let-live, reasonably mature adult. Yet I couldn’t stand Lucian. His very existence pushed every button I had. Which was exactly what I reminded myself every damn time he appeared as if conjured from some stupid, desperate place in my psyche. Until I reminded myself that he wasn’t the beautiful, rakish boy of my teenage bookworm dreams anymore.
That Lucian, the dreamy, hopeful boy who carried a burden much too heavy, was gone. In his place was a cold, ruthless man who hated me as much as I hated him.
“I trusted you, Sloane. And you broke that trust. You did more damage than he ever could.”
We were different people now. Our gazes locked in that familiar, uncomfortable recognition.
It was strange, having a secret with the boy I’d once loved and now sharing it with the man I couldn’t stand. There was a subtext to every interaction. A meaning no one but the two of us could decipher. And maybe there was a small, stupid, dark corner inside me that felt a thrill every time our eyes locked. As if that secret had bonded us in a way that could never be undone.
He was moving forward, the crowd parting around him as power and wealth blazed their own trail.
But he didn’t come to me. He went straight to my mother.
“My sweet boy.” Mom opened her arms, and Lucian stepped into them, wrapping her up in a hug that displayed a disconcerting familiarity.
Her sweet boy? Lucian was a forty-year-old megalomaniac.
The Morgan brothers moved on to join their friend with my mom.
“How are you all doing, Sloane?” Mrs. Tweedy, Nash’s elderly, gym-going neighbor demanded as she took their place. She was wearing an all-black velour tracksuit, and her hair was pushed back from her face with a somber-looking sweatband.
“We’re doing okay. Thank you so much for coming,” I said, taking her callused hand.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mom pull back slightly from her embrace with Lucian. “I can’t thank you enough. I’ll never be able to repay you for what you did for Simon. For me. For our family,” she said to him tearfully.
Uh, what? My eyeballs had no choice but to fly to Lucian’s devilishly handsome face.
God, he was beautiful. Supernaturally molded by the gods beautiful. He would make gorgeous little demon babies.
No. No. Nope. Absolutely not. My biological downward spiral was not going to make me look at Lucian Rollins as a potential mate.
“You know, they say weight lifting is good for grief. You should come on down to the gym this week. My crew will take good care of you,” Mrs. Tweedy squawked as I strained to eavesdrop on my mother and Lucian.
“I’m the one who owes you both,” he said, his voice husky.
What in the hell were they talking about? Sure, my parents and Lucian had been close when he was the wayward teen next door. But this sounded like something deeper, more recent. What was happening, and why didn’t I know about it?
Fingers snapped in my face, jolting me out of my head.
“You okay, kiddo? You look pale. You want a snack? I got a protein bar and a flask in here,” Mrs. Tweedy said, digging into her gym bag.
“Are you all right, Sloane?” Mom asked, noticing our kerfuffle.
Both she and Lucian were looking at me now.
“I’m fine,” I assured her quickly.
“She zoned out,” Mrs. Tweedy tattled.
“Really, I’m fine,” I insisted, refusing to meet Lucian’s gaze.
“You’ve been up here for over two hours straight. Why don’t you get some fresh air?” Mom suggested. I was about to point out that she’d been standing there just as long as I had when she turned to Lucian. “Would you mind?”
He nodded, and then suddenly he was in my space. “I’ll take her.”
“I’m fine,” I said again, taking a panicky step back. My escape was blocked by a large display of funeral flowers. My butt rammed the stand, and the arrangement from the Knockemout Fire Department wobbled precariously.
Lucian steadied the flowers and then placed a big, warm hand on my lower back. It felt like getting struck by lightning directly on the spine.
I was careful about never touching him. Strange things happened inside me when we did.