Page 76 of Edge of Stars

But this time, we won’t be alone.

Though the defiance brimming from Jesse and Kell already says as much, my conclusion is based in a more profound truth. The irrefutable connection that now ties me to more than just this man.

The life—and love—inside me, as well.

The extraordinary being that already fills me with her brilliance and boldness—and inspires the words I give to her beautiful daddy with my most loving look.

“So…what was all that, about being unprepared?”

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

MAXIMUS

Less than twenty hours after my wife and sister-in-law broadsided me with their action plan in Velo’s living room, I’m still attempting to get back into practice on this quirky little hobby of mine—called thinking.

But there’s the biggest joke of the day.

The trophy for most insane guy on the planet goes to…

I chuff for a second, envisioning my ugly grill etched on a plastic award like the ones Mom always saved from my elementary school years. I’ll never forget that first one, with its funny little tragedy and comedy masks. Guess I was a damn good spear carrier in the play that year.

None of this makes any more sense.

A truth made that much clearer by remembering how fast I agreed to this insane game plan.

No. Not that.

“Because game plans are for football movies and date nights, asshole,” I growl to my reflection in a mirror that’s too brightly lit while jerking back my too-tangled hair.

The queue is hardly worthy of the occasion I’m prepping it for, but I also hardly care. I close my eyes and inwardly whip myself with the insult again.

I’m busy wondering if adding a growl will tighten or loosen the knot in my gut, when Jesse’s sarcasm breaks the silence instead.

“Well, you look snappy. But not happy.”

He’s begging for a return zinger, however bad it’d be. But snappy isn’t happening right now. My brain stays as chaotic as my hair. I’m only pulled together from my neck down, courtesy of the white designer ensemble into which I’ve buttoned myself all the way.

Buttoned up being subjective. For that matter, designer.

I keep wondering if said couturier was just having a bad day, needed something for the presentation meeting, and grabbed a drawing off their three-year-old’s coloring table. I’m dressed in a layered look that’s supposed to be all the rage right now. It’s certainly all of…something. Deciding exactly what… There’s another dilemma altogether.

“I don’t recall happy being on the punch list for the plot here, so I guess we’re still good on the script?”

As comebacks go, it’s not my best. But proving friendship really is magic, my buddy rewards the line with a bigger chuckle than it’s worth. “We’re always good, Kane. Even if you did forget the Funyuns again.”

Another great tee-up, but I only borrow one word of it to reply.

“But you didn’t forget to safely stow the thumb drive I gave you, right?”

I turn and lean against the mirror, bolting a look on him across the spacious bedroom of the resort villa that we’ve decamped Velo for. Through the window behind him, the sunset tosses an AI-perfect orange glow over Spinalonga and Upper Mirabello Bay. But the scenery has nothing to do with how dapper he’s looking too. Plainly said, Greece agrees with my friend. If it’s possible, Jesse’s cover boy kisser is even more striking here.

“It’s stowed and safe, Professor Kane,” he reassures. “Cross my heart, hope to—”

“Oh no, you don’t,” I snarl.

“Dude, figure of speech,” he retorts. “One we’ve always treated like a good luck charm, if Po’s speed bubble didn’t suck out all my memory.”

“It didn’t.” I push away from the wall, clamping my arms across my chest. “But tonight we’ve got to take things a hell of a lot more seriously.”