Page 25 of Gravehouse

Me too.

Jord leans into me. “What do you think?”

I do my best to clean the tears from my under eye, my cheeks still stinging. “About what?”

“You know,” he whispers. “All this?”

I go to answer when I sense someone behind me.

“I’ve gotta admit...” Atlas whistles. “Red looks good on you.”

He drags a stolen chair over from the opposite table and drops it next to mine.

“Uh…” My body is all fuzzy and limp and I just laughed the most in months. Fuck Atlas, I won’t let him ruin my vibe.

Punk reaches out and pinches one of the gold-plated leaves sprouting from the centerpiece. “It’s like Rumpelstiltskin shat on this place.”

Atlas snaps to her. “Good to see your acting skills are still spot-on, Punk.” Leaning forward, he’s clearly about to bait her. “Are you the same everywhere else? Or maybe I could inspect closer?”

Punk bats her lashes. “Actually, there’s a lot about me that you don’t know.”

Her smile widens a fraction. “Like where my G-spot is. And while we’re on the subject of my stellar acting skills…”

At least they can follow instructions enough to not get us all killed. Me, on the other hand...

And I need a refill.

Gathering the bottom of my gown, I push up from the table and my dress clings to me even further. The material swallows my every curve while the lace cups push my tits high, giving pretty impressive side-boob. I look good. Good enough to justify the obscene money and gym hours it took to get here.

Atlas’ fingers curl around my wrist.

I pull away. “I’m going to get a drink.”

He takes his time standing to his full height, slipping a hand to my lower back. “I’ll get it! You don’t need to be stumbling in front of her.” His thumb grazes my spine. “She’ll enjoy it too much.”

I angle my body closer, brushing his hip on purpose.

“Hmmm.” I tilt my face up. “Careful, baby twin. It almost sounds like you hate her.”

Atlas’s eyes brighten. Between him and Asher, I don’t know where to start. For one, I’m not going to have Asher embarrass me in front of people since everyone knows we’re married, and two? I fucking hate Camille.

His hand locks in place. “Maybe I do...”

I step in closer, enough to kiss his chin if I arched onto my toes. “I’m beginning to wonder if I fell for the wrong brother.”

I know the second Asher’s eyes find me. He’s watching, which is kind of the point, so it only makes me go harder.

Atlas breaks into a full grin, lips brushing my ear. “Thank fuck you didn’t, or it’d be me with the bullet.”

Dramatic, but I leave it. I can’t be bothered going back and forth with him right now. I’d rather just squash it into a box and save it for later or let it rot there.

Therapy starting to make sense…

A waiter passes and he switches my empty glass for a full one, directing me back down to my chair.

Maybe I misread Atlas and this situation—no. I never misread anything.

His palm glides over my thigh, flashing a small flower inked onto his middle knuckle that I never noticed before. Pretty.