Page 50 of Gravehouse

He fucking knows what he’s doing. The man knows every curve of my body like he was the one who built it.

Jord throws his hands wide, almost leveling the salt. “No, no, no,” he says, face lit up. “She didn’t just hack into it. She lived in it for three days before anyone noticed.”

Punk jabs her fork at him, teal hair swinging. “It was a municipal server, Jord. Municipal. Stop making it sound like I breached the Pentagon.”

Jord leans forward like he’s a damn defense lawyer. “You were fourteen!”

Punk rolls her eyes. “And it was a parking violations database. I was trying to get Nonna’s ticket dismissed.”

Nonna raises her glass from the head of the table and tips it toward Punk. “And you did.”

Laughter rolls through the room and I let it pull the tension off my shoulders, shaking my head at the memories of little Punk.

Asher shifts, the warm weight of his thigh sliding against mine.

I stop breathing.

He doesn’t move, just stays there with deliberate pressure.

Asshole.

I reach for my glass, fingers a fraction too tight around the stem.

Nonna aims her fork at me. “Tell them about the time Ivy climbed onto the roof. Sixteen years old, middle of winter.”

I sink back into my chair, angling into Asher without thinking. “No, truly, we don’t have to do that.”

She ignores me. “She wanted to see the stars better. So she takes a bottle of my good wine and a blanket and climbs out her window at two in the morning.”

His hand slips from the table and lands on my thigh. I clear my throat, heat traveling with his palm as it slides inward.

“I fell asleep and woke up covered in snow,” I say, doing my best to not sound breathy.

Nonna laughs into her napkin. “I found her at dawn. Blue lips, hypothermia setting in, still clutching that empty bottle.”

I fix my eyes on Luce. “Worth it though. The stars were perfect.”

Asher hides a grin behind his glass, gaze flicking to me. “Yeah, Ivy and stars seem vaguely familiar.” He leans in like we’re the only people in this room. “Right, Venom?”

I don’t pull away. “It was also my birthday, so...”

The mask slips for a moment.

I face forward, scanning until I find Daniel at the far end of the table. His eyes meet mine with a small dip of his chin.

Sinead lounges in their chair, tattooed arms folded, smirking at something Jord says. Typical Jord. Of course it would be him that tugs at the hard edges of Sinead.

Sinead shakes their head, amused. “You’re all fucking disasters. How are you still alive?”

I lift a shoulder and reach for the bread. “Spite.”

Luce raises her glass, mouth tugging. “And Nonna.”

Asher spreads his fingers and draws my thigh closer to his, and my body refuses to settle the fuck down, which only makes me hate him more on sheer principle.

My knee brushes his, tilting the room.

He traces circles over my skin, each one making me burn hotter and hotter.