Page 2 of Love on the Edge
"Hey. We found Margo." His voice doesn’t waver, doesn’t shift, doesn’t offer room for hope. Just the truth.
"Where?" I let out a sigh, of relief or heartbreak, I’m not sure which.
"Halfway across the country. But the important thing is we can serve her now."
I have no regrets, no second thoughts, this is what we need, CC and I both need it. We have to move on and accept the fact that Margo isn’t coming back.
She won’t like this. But I can’t find it in myself to care. I’m claiming she abandoned us because she did, there’s no other way to look at it.
"You good, man?" Ryan asks when I don’t respond.
"Yeah. I’m over it." I shake my head, trying to clear it from the spiral I was headed down.
"I get it. Have fun at Drew’s. I’d be there if we weren’t prepping for trial. Try not to worry. Let us handle everything."
“No worries. Thanks, man.” It’s over.
I walk into Drew’s house and look around hoping to find my sister, Nina.
She told me to ‘dress nice’ when she demanded that I come. Whatever that means. Charcoal gray button-up, sleeves rolled up, dark jeans, boots. That’ll do.
The porch is bright, lit up with strings of lights that trail into the backyard. Everything is glowing and loud.
Warm air envelopes me just as much as the music pulsing through the speakers. There’s people everywhere, crowding around every space, if I wasn’t as tall as I am, it’d be impossible to spot Nina in her favorite purple dress. She’s laughing near the couch, like this is her stage and everyone’s just here to watch.
I move toward the kitchen and grab a beer from the counter. The bar is stocked—beer, wine, liquor. Whatever you need to get through a night like this. I take a sip, let the cold settle in my chest, and lean back.
Technically this is Drew’s house, but Nina’s everywhere. The crystals on the bookshelf? Nina. The colorful throw blanket draped over the armchair? Nina. I’ve asked Drew when he’s planning to propose. He just smirks. Soon, I think. It has to be soon. She’s practically living here now.
Drew leans against the wall, beer in hand, watching Nina move through the crowd like she was born for this. This is all her—the lights, the music, the people—every bit of it reflects the way she throws herself into life with open arms. It’s not really his thing, not the kind of night he’d plan for himself, but that doesn’t matter. Because this is Nina’s world, and he loves her enough tostep into it without hesitation. He smirks as she pulls another friend onto the dance floor, her laughter carrying over the music. She’s happy. That’s what matters. So he stays, lets her do her thing, knowing she’ll end up back in his arms before the night is over.
The sectional is shoved against the wall, making room for a dance floor. People are moving. Some dancing, some just swaying like the music’s background noise. The glass doors to the backyard are open. I catch the flicker of a fire pit. Heated blankets are draped over chairs. Who does that? Someone needs to tell Drew that when you throw a party in winter, you use the oven, not the patio.
I drift back toward the kitchen. The counter’s loaded with food—Chinese takeout, by the smell of it. Classic Drew. Cooking? Not his thing. He probably ordered all of this and then played it off like he wasn’t involved.
I take another sip of my beer and lean against the counter, content to watch everyone around me.
But I’m here.
I’m here because Nina wouldn’t take no for an answer.
And because… maybe I needed to be.
I decide I’ll stick around for a little while. Grab a drink, make an appearance, then head out. Maybe I’ll pick Cassidy up early from my mom’s. She’s supposed to stay the night, but I keep checking my phone just in case.
Before I can take another sip of my beer, it happens. Fast. Too fast to react.
A blur of movement. Someone trips. And suddenly, something cold and wet is soaking through my shirt.
I freeze. Look down and see a dark cocktail dripping down my chest.
The culprit—a woman with wide, mortified eyes—stares up at me like she just spilled on a tiger. And for a second, Iforget about the mess. She is beautiful. Dark hair in a braid, sharp cheekbones, deep brown eyes that flick between panic and something else. I don’t know what that is, yet.
“Oh my God. I’m so sorry! I didn’t see you there,” she blurts, words tumbling over each other.
She snatches a cocktail napkin from a nearby table and starts dabbing at my shirt. It’s doing absolutely nothing, but her frantic effort is… something.
I raise an eyebrow, holding back a smirk. “Well, that’s one way to make an introduction.”
