Page 25 of Gatsby's Starlet
I barked out a laugh. “God, no. Don’t let her hear you say that.”
Evie blinked in surprise.
“Lucy’s Spinner’s ol’ lady,” I explained.
“Oh,” she said quickly. “Got it.”
She hesitated for a second before adding, “But you do have women here?”
“Yeah,” I said honestly. “A few. It’s part of the lifestyle. They come and go.”
Her smile faltered just enough that most people might’ve missed it.
I didn’t.
“But not all of us are into that part of it,” I added.
Which was the truth.
I’d dipped a toe in that water once or twice years ago mostly because it was there and easy, but it had never sat right with me. At times the women made it feel like they were obligated to have sex. Their eyes only seeing the patch and not the man. Too many men in this world didn’t give a shit as long as they got laid, but I needed more.
Evie looked up at me again, relief softening her expression as the smile returned.
We made our way around the room after that, stopping here and there while I introduced her to a few more of the guys, most of them giving me varying levels of shit while Evie handled the attention better than I expected. She didn’t shrink away from the noise or the stares.
If anything, she looked curious. Like she was trying to understand the world instead of judging it. That alone had something settling in my chest in a way that felt a little too comfortable for this early stage in out relationship.
Then the door behind us opened.
Mystic stepped inside first, Zeynep close beside him, the two of them moving through the room with the kind of quiet confidence that came from being so in love you only saw each other and everyone else fell into the background.
I felt Evie shift slightly beside me, her eyes taking them in, most likely noticing Mystic’s scarred face. But I knew Evie wasn’t the type of person to judge him based on it.
I guided her toward them.
“Evie,” I said as we stopped in front of them, “this is Mystic… and Zeynep.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
I LET MYattention settle on Mystic first.
The scars across his face were impossible to ignore, pale lines cutting through otherwise strong features, but the calm in his expression softened the impact of them, and instead of the hardness I might have expected from a man who had clearly seen violence, there was something calm there, something settled, like whatever had put those marks on him had long since been dealt with and put away.
Then my gaze shifted to the woman beside him.
For a second, I just stared, not because she was beautiful, though she was, but because even though I had just met her, she was very familiar to me.
She was the woman Drago would kill to get back.
My stomach tightened, because Ruby had been clear about one thing, Zeynep was supposed to be dead, and the woman standing in front of me was very much alive.
“Nice to meet you,” she said warmly, holding out her hand.
The normalcy of it snapped me back enough to move. I stepped forward, taking her hand and hoping whatever had just crossed my face hadn’t been as obvious as it felt.
“Nice to meet you too.” My voice came out steady, which felt like a small miracle considering how fast my thoughts were moving.
If Drago ever found out—I shut that down before it could go any further.
