So can they.
“We bought you some wine,” I force out, trying my hardest to act normal for all of us. “That okay?”
“I’ll always be that wine-drunk girl you used to know,” she says, and fuck if it doesn’t feel like both a promise and a threat. “It’s been decorated so pretty in here.”
Zeke chuckles as he moves to the kitchen counter, already pulling out glasses. “Usually that’s my job back home,” he says, glancing at her over his shoulder. “But this place was already done up when we arrived.”
Zeke’s always the one who makes our home feel like Christmas. He’s the one who decorates the tree, arranges the stockings, and lights the candles that smell like vanilla and pine. Jasper and I help, but mostly, we just drink whiskey and flirt until we become a distraction.
“What’s your place like in Boston?”
“It’s different from here,” Zeke says, glancing at both of us before continuing. “Not homely in the traditional sense, but it ishome. We’ve got an entire floor—big windows, city skyline, lights that never go out. It feels… alive.”
“You’re all happy there?”
Zeke nods slowly. “Happier than any of us ever imagined, I think.”
“The only thing we’d change is hiding,” Jasper cuts in. “We don’t hide inside our home. We’re just us there. But outside, when the masks come on, that’s the part I hate.”
“We all do, baby,” I murmur, reaching out and resting my hand on Jasper’s back, my fingers curling just enough to feel him there.
I don’t pull away when Addison’s eyes land on the way I touch him. If she recalls that I used to touch her in that same way, then so be it. Let her remember.
“So, is Addison Hope still the same wine-drunk girl who enjoys watching two guys make out while she’s being kissed?”
She slowly turns her head and places a hand on her hip, and all I can do is stand there and watch because how she answers matters more than it should—especially considering she’s wifed up now.
She doesn’t wear a ring, but I know plenty of people who don’t.
“Are you going to be like this all night?” she asks, raising a brow.
“Probably,” Jasper replies, with zero apology in his voice.
“So, no offense when I ignore you?”
“You can try,” he says with a smirk, “but we both know that never worked out for you before.”
Zeke chuckles as he moves around the island, his hand lingering for half a second on her back before he pulls away, reaching for the wineglasses.
“Sorry about him,” he says, pouring her a large glass. “He’s never changing.”
She accepts the wine, her fingers brushing his like she didn’t once look at him like he hung the fucking moon.
But I see it.
A hint of pink rises beneath her winter-pale skin, while Zeke’s jaw twitches like he’s biting back the urge to step closer. I feel every inch of it as though it’s stitched into my own damn bones.
“Also, for the record, you gave us shots that night. Wine-drunk me isn’t nearly as reckless.”
Jasper pushes off the counter, and I move with him, closing the space like it’s instinct. My chest brushes his back as I settle in behind him, close enough to feel his warmth. His hand reaches behind him, gripping my thigh—not hard, not possessive, just there.
“My dad mentioned you made captain, Roman.”
I’m curled around Jasper, my chin hooked over his shoulder as I breathe him in. The warm, woodsy scent he always wearsfills my lungs like a drug—one hit and everything in me goes quiet.
“Like he was ever destined for anything less,” Jasper says, and the pride in his voice makes something hot and possessive twist in my stomach.
I nip at his ear, letting my teeth graze the sensitive skin. When I lift my gaze, Addison’s watching us—her lips are parted, breath caught in her throat like she wasn’t expecting the intimacy. It’s as if she forgot what it was, the way I used to touch her, and how I was always reaching for her too.
