Page 47 of Gravehouse

Her hands cup my cheeks, her hazel eyes softening as she studies me. “You look tired, chérie.”

I sigh, squeezing her grip. “I’m fine.”

She kisses my forehead, smiling like she knows better. “Liar.”

Turning, she looks at the stranger I dragged to her door. “And you must be...”

“Asher.” He dips his head, kissing her knuckles with a small smirk. “Enchanté, Madame.”

Bastard. I see what he’s doing.

She clicks her tongue. “Un vrai gentleman.” Waving us toward the hall, she adds, “Come, come inside.”

Asher follows her in, his shoulders stiff as he scans the room. The place is old, but Nonna keeps it tidy. Ornate frames withchipped edges cover the walls, and the floors are in desperate need of a fresh coat of varnish.

My stomach grumbles as the smell of braised meat drifts through from the kitchen.

“Ah.” Nonna catches my look as Asher moves around the room. “Food will come, but first. Wine.”

She steers us to the kitchen, clay pots stacked beneath bundles of dried herbs hung from beams. This has always been Nonna’s home base. I wonder why none of us thought to come back here more often.

Nonna stirs the largest pot on the stove. “Asher. Grab us down some glasses.”

He flips the first cabinet open and does as he’s told, placing them on the counter.

She pops a cork off a bottle of Pinot, eying Asher with a smirk. “You’re rather impressive on a snowboard, Mr. Jameson. Tell me, is that a family trait?”

He hesitates, and I swirl the liquid around the glass.

“I guess you could say that.” His mouth splits into a wide smile.

All the air leaves my lungs. I hadn’t realized how badly I missed that smile until now.

I swallow a gulp of wine to drown the butterflies in my belly.

He leans forward and locks onto Nonna like she’s the only person in the room. Asher is good at that. At making you feel like you mean something to someone. The thought hollows me out.

More wine.

“You watched me?” Asher blinks, darkness lifting from his shoulders for the first time in… forever.

They must’ve been talking Winter Games while I was off ruining my own life in my head.

Nonna chuckles. “Of course. When Ivy told me who she was...” The corner of her mouth tilts up. “...smitten with. Well. I had to pay very close attention.”

I grip the stem of my glass. “Nonna!”

Nonna pats my cheek, completely unbothered. “What? Now, now. You and I both know that’s the least I could do.”

She’s playing right into Asher’s hands, and he has no idea she’s doing it on purpose.

He laughs, settling against the counter like his body already knows it belongs there.

Nonna winks at him. Fucking winks.

“He makes physics his bitch, Ivanya, that is impressive.”

I scrub a hand over my face and try not to smile. “Jesus, Nonna.”