Page 249 of Face Off

“It was August.”

“They were fall inventory.”

Bliss laughs hard enough to lean into my shoulder.

I wrap one arm around her waist and continue. “The real ABC has never been about alphabetical order. It’s the order in which we show up. Aura arrives ready to fight everyone and ask questions later. Bliss arrives with snacks, bail money, and twelve unnecessary questions but assures us her brothers are on speed dial. I’m there for the things they can’t say out loud, listen until they’ve emptied every piece, and quietly make sure whoever hurt them never gets the opportunity to do it twice.”

“And she arrives late,” Aura adds.

“Neither of you approves of my driving.”

“You drive like traffic laws are personal criticism,” Aura says.

“They lack imagination.”

The crowd laughs again, but my throat tightens when Bliss rests her head briefly against mine.

“We’ve been ABC since we were twelve,” I continue. “Before careers, hockey players, businesses, heartbreak, and everything life would eventually ask us to survive. We’ve watched one another become every possible version of ourselves. Some were beautiful. Some were terrifying and the rest were disasters wearing expensive shoes.”

Aura touches her glass against mine. “The shoes remained excellent.”

“They did.” Bliss says with tears in her eyes and I watch as he pays the guys off clearly losing a bet over tears.

“Tomorrow, Bliss becomes Bliss Mercer, but the alphabet doesn’t change. A and C will still surround B, interfering with her marriage, criticizing Cade’s infuriating need to apply logic to our behavior, and ensuring he understands that marrying one of us means acquiring the entire set.”

Cade raises his glass. “I read the terms.”

“You didn’t read the fine print,” Aura tells him.

I turn toward Bliss. Her blue eyes already shine beneath the lights.

“Tomorrow, we’ll give the beautiful speeches,” I say. “Tonight, we only want you to know that every version of your name still belongs between ours. Mercer, Bennett, wife, menace, Pip—you’ll always be our B.”

Aura raises her glass higher. “To ABC.”

“To ABC,” I repeat.

Bliss throws both arms around us before anyone finishes echoing the toast. Champagne spills over Aura’s fingers while Bliss cries between us.

“You said this wouldn’t be sentimental,” she complains.

“I said tomorrow would be worse.”

Aura holds her glass away from Bliss’s hair. “Release me before I invoice you for dry cleaning.”

Bliss tightens her arms.

The pavilion fills with applause and laughter. When she finally releases us, Cade collects her against his side and kisses her temple while Charm’s brothers shout increasingly inappropriate suggestions from the back.

Ryan pushes away from the bar.

At first, I think he’s coming toward me. Instead, he sets his whiskey down and reaches behind the bar. The bartender lifts a large black gift bag from beneath the counter and passes it to him.

Briggs sees the bag and straightens. Easton’s expression changes next. Rider places his drink on the nearest table.

They know what is about to happen.

Ryan removes the microphone from its stand near the musicians. He taps it once, winces when the speakers answer sharply, then looks around the crowded pavilion.