I stayed in our room, worrying his words in my mind like a moth with a piece of old lace. Does he know about Lottie? Only a few seconds after he left, the door opened again.
I stood up, ready to apologize. “Grayson—”
I was slammed against the wall as the fireworks pounded like gunshots in the sky. There was about a five-second window of confusion, where I leaned to my dream of Grayson, of this perfect midnight kiss with the love of my life.
So I groaned, wrapping my arms around him.
And then it happened.
Slowly at first, like a cold water leak in my heart. Grayson’s kisses were more intense. With every kiss, he used his entire soul. He bit. He sucked. He pushed me and demanded of me.
Cherries.
Why doesn’t he taste like sugar and whiskey—
The leak burst and drowned me.
I ripped my face away, looking to the ground.
One breath…
Maybe it’s in my head.
Two…
“I should have kissed you back then, Angel.”
I shoved West away, stumbling until I’d put enough space between us.
“I thought you were Grayson.”
“Did you?”
He was a dark shadow in the room. I couldn’t see his facial expression, but I heard the mocking glint on his tongue.
Did I?
“I told you I’d take whatever you gave him,” he said.
“So this is your plan to win me back, West? Doing all the things that made me hate you in the first place? You knew I wouldn’t want to kiss you so you fucking stole it.”
I couldn’t breathe. A hand fisted my heart.
Almost a year ago, in this room, I was in the opposite position.
Stealing kisses.
West gripped my face, dragging my gaze back to his. With my eyes open, as the fireworks pounded, I could see his clearly.
Too clearly.
“Let me tell you why we kiss at midnight, Angel,” he growled.
He held my head in place and my neck ached with the effort to get away.
“It’s an old English folklore. We kiss at midnight because the first person we kiss sets the tone for the rest of the year. It’s about cementing who you want by your side—in your bed.”
“I don’t want you by my side,” I cried. “You raped me.”
Cherries.
His eyes flashed. “If it’s rape, then why did you come back to me?”
My lips froze around the words you’re wrong, because his poked that terribly open wound in my soul.
I’m bad. He’s right. Grayson deserves better.
I wasn’t going to let West know that I still had a hard time viewing that night as rape. That there was a stupid piece of me aching for him to be kind. For his soul to be as sweet as the milk chocolate color of his eyes.
So I could rewrite that night, rewrite those brutal memories.
I shoved him with all my force and ran.
Ran until I reached the terrace. Laughter and the clinking of champagne glasses spun around me. I ran and ran, down the steps. My shoes got caught in the sand, so I kicked them off, toes curling in the cold sand.
A few feet from the iron ocean, I fell. The cold meant the beach was empty. Everyone was either on boats or inside Crowne Hall.
I chewed my lip raw, tears falling and blurring the glimmering fireworks. I felt dirty. Wrong. My lips belonged to Grayson, but now I know what West tasted like.
Cherries.
West tasted like cherries.
“Why are you crying, new girl?”
Thirty-Six
GRAY
Maybe I was asking too much, maybe there was a corner of her soul she doesn’t want me inside.
I don’t fucking like that.
I want to burrow inside every part of her. I crushed another sucker between my teeth.
“Is everything okay?”
I jerked my head up at my sister Abigail’s voice, then dragged a hand through my hair, exhaling.
“Did you hit your head?” I asked.
We might not outwardly loathe each other anymore, but asking me how I’m doing? The fuck?
“You seem…” She waved a hand at me. “Like someone kicked your puppy.”
I looked at my sister in her glittering gold dress. Somewhere her dog, Theo, was getting her something to eat. She was smiling. Happy.
A Crowne happy.
Abigail was my grandfather’s favorite. He might have tried to marry her off to an asshole, but for a Crowne, she was shielded from most of this world.
Both of my sisters were.
She thought our life was the usual rusted glitz and glamour; she had no idea the real darkness of this world. Neither of my sisters do—and they never would, not if I have any say about it.
I raised my phone. “Slid into some chick’s DMs and she’s being a bitch about it.”
Abigail wrinkled her nose. “That’s disgusting. What about your wife? Or…”
I arched a brow. “Or?”
She lowered her voice. “The girl you really love. The one I stole mother’s dresses for.”
I shrugged, looking at my phone. “I don’t know who the fuck you’re talking about.”
Silence passed, Abigail’s eyes narrowing at me from beneath her thick, feathery lashes. I could tell she was about to press, when her dog, Theo, showed up. He wrapped his arms around her, pressing his face into her neck.
“Sweet girl,” he said low. “If you want to celebrate the new year together, time to fucking ditch this place.”
I rolled my eyes as my sister melted into her husband. She wrapped her hand in Theo’s, but paused on me, brow furrowing. “Bye, Grayson.”
I waved her off and took another drink, the whiskey mixing with my sugary sucker, when I saw West.
Talking to Gemma.
I was across the room, grabbing her and thrusting her behind my back before I realized it.
“What the hell, Grayson?” She tried to squirm out of my hold, I tightened my grip on her wrist. West tilted his head, trying to see Gemma.
“The fuck, Grayson?”
“Where is your piece of shit fiancé?”
Gemma blinked slowly. “Probably sliding into some underage influencer’s DMs.”
“He should be with you. Protecting you.”
Her lips parted, and her face was frozen for at least five seconds.
Then she barked out a laugh. “What the fuck?” She laughed for a solid thirty seconds. “Okay, right, sure.” She waved me off before wandering toward the eggnog, still laughing. “Horace protecting me, oh my God, what even…”
West grinned, shark-toothed. “I have to get to know my fiancée sometime, Gray.”
Story was right.
This decision would kill me. Abigail had found her happily ever after, and I would do my fucking damnedest to make sure Gemma didn’t walk down the aisle like Lottie had.
I pushed my cheek out with my tongue. “Where’s Story?”
It was a quarter to midnight, and I still hadn’t seen her come back.
His brow furrowed, and he looked away.
“Where the fuck is she, West?”
He shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine.”
I went back to our room, but she wasn’t there. Fuck.
I never should have fucking left her.
I nearly ran into West on my way out. “The fuck are you doing?”