Say the Word(129)

Fae shook her head darkly. “Who cares what his face looks like?”

“Is that a yes?” Simon looked at me.

I nodded. “He’s gorgeous.”

“Ah, I see.” Simon’s lips twisted into a knowing smile. “Maybe some hate-sex is in order.”

“Excuse me?” Fae asked, turning to face him.

“Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it, sweetheart.” Simon grinned. “All that bottled up anger and aggression can be… explosive… under the right circumstances.”

“He’s right.” I sipped my wine, smiling privately as my mind filtered back over some of Bash and my first interactions during the past few weeks. “Love and hate — they’re two sides of the same coin.”

“Can we please talk about something important?” Fae asked. “Like the fact that Centennial is tomorrow night and Lux can no longer leave the apartment for the mani-pedi we booked her?”

I snorted. “Oh yeah. ‘Cause that’s important. I’m so glad you want to talk about truly vital issues, Fae.”

“Never fear,” Simon said, reaching into the bag he’d brought with him and pulling out a French manicure set. “I always come prepared.”

I rolled my eyes but didn’t resist as he pulled my bare feet into his lap.

“I can’t believe Jeanine won’t let me out of going,” I complained. “You’d think an attempt on my life would be enough to convince her I can’t attend.”

Fae shrugged. “She’s British. They take attendance and punctuality very seriously.”

“You’re going with the boy toy?” Simon asked, applying a clear base coat to my toes.

“He helped me get into Labyrinth; now I owe him a date,” I explained, my voice regretful. “I just wish it were anywhere but at Centennial. All the cameras… I’ll probably end up on some trashy gossip site.”

“I can see the headlines now.” Simon smirked. “‘MYSTERY WOMAN SNAGS SEBASTIAN COVINGTON’ — you’ll be famous!”

I glared in his direction.

“You’re worried about the cameras?” Fae snorted. “What about Cara? She’s going to flip when she sees you with Sebastian.”

“I hadn’t even thought of that,” I moaned, feeling my apprehension build further. “She’ll probably scratch my eyes out in the ladies’ room.”

Fae laughed, an excited gleam in her eyes. “I’d like to see her try.”

“I’m beginning to think you have a fixation with danger,” I said, staring at her with concern.

“Adrenaline junkie,” Simon agreed, nodding as he applied a light coat of pale pink to my big toe.

“Whatever.” Fae shrugged. “I have a feeling that tomorrow is going to be a night to remember.”

“Good memories, I hope.” I looked at them, trying to ignore the feeling of foreboding that was chewing at the lining of my stomach.

“Don’t worry,” Simon said dismissively, gesturing toward my Cinderella dress where it hung on the closet door. “When you’re wearing a custom Simon Gilbert design, nothing can go wrong.”





***


By the time Simon and Fae left for the night, I’d been buffed, plucked, painted, and groomed within an inch of my life — I was more than ready for Centennial tomorrow night. They hugged me goodbye with promises of seeing me at the gala and threats to kill me if I didn’t wear my hair up the way they’d instructed. Apparently, if I didn’t force my locks into a perfect up-do, it would ruin the lines of Simon’s dress and be a grand-scale catastrophe.

I rolled my eyes and promised to replicate the hairdo to the best of my limited abilities.

As I closed the door behind them, I felt Bash press against my back and his arms slide around my waist. His chin came down to rest on my shoulder as I leaned back into him, and for a moment I simply closed my eyes and enjoyed the long-forgotten sensation of a casual embrace with the man I loved.

“Can I show you something?” I whispered, tilting my face back so his lips rested against my forehead.

“Of course,” he said, turning me in his arms. He cupped my face and kissed me lightly. I lost myself in his kiss for several moments, tightening my arms around him and immersing myself fully in the feeling of his lips on mine. When I pulled away, I knew my cheeks were flushed with both happiness and desire.

I twined my fingers through his and pulled him toward the closet, where I’d stored most of my things. Reaching inside, I pulled out the Jamie Box and walked back to the couch with Sebastian close behind me. I set the wooden box lightly on the coffee table, absently tracing the carvings with my fingertips as I turned to look at Bash.

“This is the most important thing I own,” I told him, a smile tugging at my lips. “It’s from Jamie.”

Bash smiled involuntarily at the thought of my brother.

I slid the box in front of him on the table. “Open it.”

Bash lifted the lid, his eyes catching immediately on the embedded photograph of me and my twin. When his fingers moved to skim over the letters inside I felt my eyes begin to tingle, the heartache still fresh after three years.

“One hundred letters,” I explained. “All for different dates and occasions.”