Even the damn fountain out front burbled with judgment.
Jake parked closer to the garage, and I slid the bike right up next to him. Coop climbed out before Jake even shut off the engine. He was already in swim trunks and an unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt. His grimace told me all I needed to know about Jake’s mood before Jake slammed out of his Jeep.
Definitelynotimproved.
I had a change of clothes in my backpack. The air practically sweltered and sweat slicked my hair back as I pulled my helmet off. We looked like the before picture to Archie’s after. But whatever. That wasn’t new.
What was new? That sick twist in my gut.
This wasn’t just a party. This was the night.
Frankie was coming—withhim. And no matter how many times I told myself his name wasMathieu, my brain still spit outFrenchywith a snarl. Some habits died harder than others.
Archie’s house was already buzzing when Jeremy opened the door to greet us in a wash of cooler air. The guy wore an immaculate suit despite the heat and a mild expression that said he’d seen it all and wasn’t impressed by much. But he nodded at us in welcome, unfailingly polite. Then again, Jeremy could cut as neatly with a kind word. I had no doubt where Archie learned his skills.
“Mr. Bubba. Welcome. Mr. Jake. Mr. Coop. Mr. Archie is outside by the pool.” A pause. “He asked me to remind you to pace yourselves with the bourbon and the sarcasm.”
I huffed a laugh. “So, no fun at all.”
Jeremy didn’t smile, but I swore his eyebrows did.
We moved through the house like we owned the place—which, technically, only one of us did—but that was the thing with Archie. His world bent around him, and somehow it made room for the rest of us too.
Outside, the pool shimmered in the sun, lounge chairs scattered like thrones. The bar setup looked legit. Fairy lights were strung across the yard, already glowing. Music pulsed low from the outdoor speakers. Classy. Controlled.
This wasn’t a kegger. This was curated. I diverted to the pool house to change. It didn’t take long. When I came back out, Archie was lounging under one of the umbrellas, drink in hand, sunglasses on.
“About time,” he called, raising his glass. “The rest of my court arrives.”
“Who died and made you king?” Jake grumbled, still tense.
Archie didn’t flinch. “Just go with it. The vibe works better when I’m monarch.”
I dropped into a seat beside him. “Then who are we? Jesters?”
He gave me a sly look. “You’re my favorite general.”
That earned him a scoff. Jake muttered something I couldn’t hear and stalked toward the drinks.
Coop stayed close, eyes flicking over Jake like he expected him to combust.
“Still think he’s gonna throw a punch?” I asked Coop quietly.
“He wants to.” Coop’s voice was low. “But he won’t. Not tonight.”
“Because of Frankie?”
“Because of you.” He gave me a look. If Jake threw down, I’d have to get in the way. We never had figured out which of us would win in a straight on fight. I still didn’t want to know. “And because she’s bringing him.”
Right.Him.
I hadn’t realized I was grinding my teeth until Archie nudged me with his foot.
“Relax, Bubba,” he said. “You’re going to break your molars.”
“Easy for you to say,” I muttered. “You already had your date.”
That got me a grin.
