The rest of our week in New York is a blur, with Luna in full-on tour guide mode, ushering me around the city, cramming in as much sightseeing as possible. And eating. So much eating. The Evans girls can really pack it away; I have to fight to keep up.
I don’t mind any of it. Luna looks so damn adorable, wrapped up in a bright pink faux fur coat and a matching hat pulled low on her forehead, cheeks flushed from the cold, gripping my hand and bouncing on the balls of her feet like an overexcited toddler.
And she looks happy. Really fucking happy. Like, grinning from ear to ear every waking moment of the day. Laughing more than I’ve ever heard her laugh before. And not the cute little chuckle either, the real cackle that she hates but I love.
It’s that laugh that stops me from objecting when she grabs my hand and drags me towards what is quite possibly my worst nightmare.
Give me a seven foot tall horse to ride? I’ll do it.
A barn roof needs repairing? Easy.
Strap a pair of skates on my feet and throw me on a patch of ice? It’s not going to be pretty. Especially when that patch of ice has what looks like hundreds of people zipping around on it.
“It’ll be fun,” Luna promises as she drags me towards a stall renting skates.
Fun, maybe. Deadly, more than likely.
I don’t complain though; I just grin and bear it.
Luna laces up her skates like a professional while I fumble, all thumbs. She practically skips onto the ice while I shuffle like a newborn deer, awkward as hell. Her skates hit the ice and she’s off, gliding around effortlessly, while I can barely manage a single step without risking embarrassing injury. When she does a spinning twirly thing that would’ve landed me in the hospital, I squint at her suspiciously. “How are you so good?”
Skidding to a stop, Luna shrugs, anything but innocent. “I took lessons when I was a kid. Had a big crush on Tessa Virtue.”
“For how long?”
“Five years, give or take.” The little shit cracks a smile. “It was more like an obsession.”
Of course.
Luna holds her hands out, wiggling her fingers until I take them in mine. Slowly skating backwards, she tugs gently. “Bend your knees a little.” I follow her instructions but it does nothing to help the unsteadiness of my skates.
Luna does all the work, pulling me along like I’m a child as I grip her hands for dear life. “Well, well, well.” Luna’s slightly smug voice has me looking up from the patch of ice I’m staring a hole into. Graceful as anything, she guides us back to the railing, a slender hand on my hip keeping me stable while the other brushes my cheek. “I think we finally found something you’re not good at.”
“Shut up.”
Happiness incarnate, she laughs and brings my mouth to hers, her joy a palpable thing as she kisses me, and I greedily swallow it all.
A loud squeal breaks us apart. “Oh my God!”
Luna stiffens in my arms, and I glance down to find her looking over my shoulder with a rigid expression. Following her line of sight, I find two girls leaning against the railing, gawking at us. “Oh my God,” Luna repeats in a monotone voice before pasting on the world’s fakest smile. “What’re you doing here?”
I’m not sure the girls hear the question; they’re too busy staring at me.
“You were telling the truth,” one of them says, surprise lacing her tone.
I frown. “Excuse me?”
“We all thought she was lying about having a boyfriend,“ the other girl chimes in, a smile on her face that’s almost as fake as Lu’s but decidedly sneakier. “No, sorry. Not a boyfriend. Just a boy. Right, Lu?”
Suddenly, it clicks.
The nasty smiles, the snooty voices, the ability to look down their noses at us despite the fact both Luna and I are taller than them. It’s got to be those ‘friends.’ The reason I spent Thanksgiving here.
“Eva. Bea.” Luna spits through gritted teeth, confirming what I already knew. “This is Jackson. My boyfriend.” I notice how she enunciates that last word. I also notice how she clings to my arm desperately. Slipping an arm around her waist, I cling right back, offering the two girls nothing more than a somewhat polite nod.
Polite is not the word I’d use to describe their reactions to me.
Predatory would be more accurate.
I feel like a piece of meat on display as their eyes drag over me, lingering on the arm wrapped around Luna, and on my lips where there are probably traces of her lipgloss. The pair exchange a look that I don’t understand but Luna clearly does because she becomes even more rigid, her grip tightening, and I pull her closer. “Hate to rush away so fast,” I lie, ‘but we’ve got to go. Lunch reservations.”
“Oh, that’s too bad.” Eva, I think, fakes a dejected expression. “We were hoping we’d be able to get to know you. You know, while you’re still around.”
I smile, trying not to grit my teeth. “I’m sure I’ll be back soon.”
“Hm.” The one I think is Bea hums, unconvinced. “We’ll see.”
Yeah, I hate them. I’ve only known them for a handful of minutes but I hate them. And that’s not a word I use lightly, or often.
Five minutes ago, I didn’t think I’d be the one dragging Luna off the ice and guiding her towards the nearby bench, eager to change and get the hell out of here. We almost make it, too, but a grating voice and a godawful offer stop us in our tracks. “Hey, we’re going for dinner tonight. Why don’t you join us?”
“I don’t-”
“We insist.”
“We have-”
“Luna!”
“Fine!” Luna practically screams as she relents, casting me apologetic eyes.
Those awful girls grin like the cats who got the cream. “Great. We’ll see you tonight.” Slipping her phone out of her pocket, Maybe Bea holds it out towards me.“Give me your number so I can text you the details.”
Lu barely manages to contain her snort, and I once again have to tighten my grip on her; this time, to prevent her from clawing Bea’s eyes out.
Instead of my number, I give her a dismissive look. “You have my girl’s number. Text her.”
“We do not have to go.”
I shoot Luna a look. Considering we’re already standing outside the restaurant, I think it’s a bit late for that.
“We could just leave,” Luna tries again. “No one’s seen us yet.”
“If you wanna leave, we can leave.” It’s an empty offer; I know we’re not leaving. Not when there’s probably a bet going on us ditching.
Like I knew she would, Luna inhales deeply, setting her shoulders before taking my hand and leading me inside. “We go straight to the bar, okay?” she mutters, anxiously looking around the room in search of her so-called friends. “We go straight to the bar, we take at least five shots, and then we find them.”
It’s a good plan. Or at least, it would be if there wasn’t a fatal flaw. If two of New York’s most vapid inhabitants didn’t have their eyes fixed on the entrance, spotting us as soon as we appear.
“You came!” Eva and Bea rush towards us, wrapping Luna in a dramatic hug and shooting each other oh-so-subtly surprised glances.
I, unfortunately, get a hug too. An over enthusiastic one that lingers, accompanied by chirping in my ear about how Luna ‘’bagged a hottie.’ When they finally let me go, I take a generous step back, purposefully angling myself behind Luna, wrapping my arms around her waist and tugging her back against my chest.
Rude and Ruder pause, their perfectly fake expressions fumbling for just a second before they fix their faces and simultaneously coo over how cute we are.
Again, I find myself thinking about how much I hate them. The way they’re looking at Luna, the way they’re looking at me, the way they’re looking at each other, I hate it. I can’t imagine Luna ever being friends with them, ever being like them.
Luna’s a lot of things, but mean? Cruel? Duplicitous? Never.
I keep a strong hold on Luna as the girls guide us to our table. We’re almost there, just a few steps from the beginning of the end, when she suddenly freezes. Slowly, she lifts her chin to look up at me, a grimace already twisting her face. “I am so, so sorry.”
She doesn’t get a chance to explain why, and I don’t get time to ask. A second later, someone hollers her name. “Luna! There’s my girl!”
My girl?
Before I can process anything, Luna is wrenched from my grip and tugged into the arms of someone else. Stiff as a board, she casts a muted smile at the vaguely familiar guy pawing her but he doesn’t see it.
He’s too busy grinning at me.
“Nice to see you again, Oscar.”
It takes me a second to place him.
Owen.
The guy who called me Thanksgiving weekend. Who I only spared a ‘quick’ hello when he let me into his house before darting upstairs to find Luna.
I probably should’ve guessed he’d be here. I can easily guess who orchestrated his presence. What I couldn’t have guessed though is that he’d be looking at Luna the way he’s looking at her right now when I’m standing right fucking here. Not quite as predatory, more appreciative, but still entirely unwanted.
“Damn.” He lets out a whistle. “Looking good, sugarplum.”
Sugarplum?
Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.
I’m about to make a territorial fool of myself when Luna saves me from that fate. She untangles herself from Owen and steps back into my grip, guiding my arm around her waist and squeezing my forearm. “Thanks.”
It’s quick, the flicker of annoyance, on Owen’s face, but I see it. Luna sees it, and she tilts her head back to grimace at me again. Shaking my head—don’t worry about it—I dip to kiss her before nudging her toward the table.
I feel like I’m putting on a show. All eyes are on us as I help Luna shed her coat and hang it on the back of her chair, as I pull out her chair for her, as she sits and immediately scoots closer to me.
“Sorry,” Eva croons a fake apology when I crook a brow at her staring. “This is just…”
“Weird,” Owen finishes for her, and any respect I had for the guy, any gratitude I had, disappears into thin air.
I hum a non-response as I slink an arm around Luna’s shoulder, my free hand reaching for the menu just as the girl across from me picks hers up. “Wow.” Bea fakes a gasp, gaping at her menu with an expression of shock that makes me pray this girl has no aspirations of becoming an actress. “This place is expensive.”
Eva follows her lead, just as lacking in thespian abilities as her friend. “Oh God, I didn’t realize.” She glances at Luna. “I’m so sorry, Lu. I can cover you, if you need it. You too, Jackson.”
“That won’t be necessary.” We talked about this earlier. Luna wasn’t happy about it but somehow, I fucking knew something like this would happen. So, when I pull my wallet out, even though she looks less than pleased, Luna gives a confirmatory nod.
“Start a tab for the table, please,” I tell the waitress when she approaches, handing over my card. Turning back to the table, I take a moment to revel in the shocked expressions before adopting an easy smile. “Order whatever you want. It’s on us.”
I didn’t think it possible but these people are worse than I thought.
Rude. Vapid. And God, annoying. So fucking annoying.
They’re taking advantage of their free meal. It feels like they’re testing me, ordering expensive shit and waiting for me to panic. Little do they know, I don’t give a shit. For all I care, they can buy the whole damn restaurant if it gets me out of here any quicker.
By the time we make it to dessert, I’m at my wits end, and not because of their overspending or the incessant giggling or the flirty glances. No, it’s the endless snarky comments shot at Luna that are testing my patience and the effect they have on my girl.
Every dig has her sinking further in her seat, like she’s shrinking as they chip away at her. I try to help, to refute their comments, but they’re fucking relentless. Every ten minutes, I whisper offers of faking an illness so we can get the hell out of here, but Luna refuses. She doesn’t want to give them the satisfaction. She’d rather just grin and bear it and I have to stomp down the urge to ignore her wishes, chuck her over my shoulder and sprint away, snatching my card at the bar and leaving them with the enormous tab.
They’re in the midst of regaling me with some story about a random party their senior year when Eva turns her gaze to Luna, a subtly wicked smile on her lips. “Remember that night, Lu?”
Lu smiles tightly. “Not really.”
“Of course she doesn’t,” Bea chimes in, slapping her friend on the arm. “She went home early that night.”
“Oh, yeah.” Eva cocks her head, tone thick with innuendo, her insinuation practically slapping me in the face. “Owen did too, if I remember correctly.”
It’s not like they’re implying something I don’t already know; Owen and Luna used to hook up, Luna told me herself. But still, I sit a little straighter, tug Luna a little closer, appreciate the hand she rests on my thigh, the drumming of her fingers somewhat soothing.
When no one takes the bait, Eva’s face twists in frustration. “You know they used to fuck, right?”
Despite everything, the blurted statement shocks me. It’s the most blatantly rude thing anyone’s said all night; every other insult was disguised as a joke or a seemingly innocent throwaway comment, moved on from quickly.
Luna’s fingers pick up their pace, and I glance over to find her a mixture of cringing and seething. Linking my fingers with hers, I squeeze gently. “Yeah, I know.”
“Oh.” I daresay Eva looks slightly disappointed not to have caught me off guard with her little attempted bomb. “How about when-”
“You know what,” Luna interrupts, downing her drink and getting to her feet. “I think we’re done for the night.”
“Oh, Luna. We’re-”
Again, Luna doesn’t let her finish. She strides away without a goodbye, and I’m not far behind. I catch her just as she’s pushing outside, my hand gripping her elbow and pulling her to a stop. “Are you okay?”
“No.” Shaky hands tuck her hair behind her ears. “I’m fucking pissed.”
When I wrap my arms around her, she comes easily, burying her face in my chest. “I’m sorry.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“This was a terrible idea.”
Yeah, I’m not going to argue that.
“I wanted to give them a chance,” Luna continues sadly, propping her chin on my chest. “To not be assholes for once. I swear, they weren’t always that bad.”
“It’s okay, sweetheart.” Stooping to kiss her forehead, I run my hands along goosebumps arms. “You forgot your coat.”
“I can’t go back in there.”
Another kiss and I release her, slipping off my jacket and wrapping it around her. “I’ll get it.”
I plan on being stealthy. Hand a waiter a generous incentive to go grab it, linger by the bar, in-and-out in under thirty seconds.
That all goes to shit when a hand caresses my bicep.
“Jackson.” Eva appears out of nowhere, pouting when I shake her off and step away. “You don’t have to leave.”
“Yes, we do.”
“We,” she attempts to coo, but her tone is bitter. “How cute.”
My jaw clenches. “Do we have a problem?”
“You probably do.” For the first time tonight, that falsely polite expression fades, becoming something borderline vicious as she leans in, voice low and conspiratory. “You know she’s only with you for the money, right? Her and her mom are, like, totally poor. She could only go to college because she got a scholarship.”
Fucking snob.
I’m saved from answering by the return of the waiter, fluffy pink coat in hand, but it’s a brief reprieve. When I make for the door, Eva follows. “She’s using you.”
“That’s enough.”
“Come on, you really like that little gold-digging tramp?”
I stop in my tracks, head whipping toward her. “Watch your mouth.”
“You know she’s cheating on you, right?” God, the glee on her face, the joy she’s getting out of trying to ruin someone else, is fucking despicable. “She fucked Owen on Thanksgiving weekend.”
I almost laugh right in her face, I really do. Utter amusement curls my mouth upward but Eva’s must be too far gone to notice because she continues, “We went clubbing and they disappeared together. No one could get in contact with either of them for, like, two days.”
“So?”
Frustrated that I’m not falling for her ploy, a hint of desperation taints Eva’s tone as she blurts out, “I saw them together the day after. At a cafe. They looked pretty close. But, hey, what do I know?”
I pause briefly; call it dramatic effect. “You saw them?”
A triumphant smile breaks out across Eva’s face. “Mmhmm.”
“You saw Luna and Owen together Thanksgiving weekend?”
“Yes.” She feigns being annoyed at having to repeat herself. “They were kissing, actually.”
“That’s weird,” I can’t help but laugh, “because I was with Luna that weekend. All weekend. In my hotel room. And I’m pretty sure I’d remember if Owen was there.”
Her face falls so fast it’s downright comical. “I-”
“You’re a bitch,” I finished for her. “A lying, manipulative, nasty bitch.”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me,” I reply tiredly because I am so fucking done with these people. “You and your friends are pathetic.”
I can’t tell if it’s embarrassment or anger flushing previously pale cheeks a bright red color, but either way, Eva’s face reddens something fierce. “Who do you think you are?”
“Someone you do not want to fuck with.” Cocking my head, I pretend to think for a moment. “You go to NYU, right?”
Eva nods slowly, and I let out a thoughtful hum. “My father used to guest lecture there. Regina MacIntyre is the Chairperson, isn’t she?”
Bright red fades to slightly green as Eva nods again.
“Hm. I remember her stances on anti-harassment being pretty severe.”
“We-”
“Because that’s what you’re doing. You’re harassing her.” I lean in, hoping Eva sees every bit of anger coursing through me, and the utmost sincerity in my promise. “And if it happens again, ever again, I’m not gonna be quite as nice as I’ve been tonight. Got it?”
Eva hesitates and I sigh, feigning boredom as I mess with the cuffs of my shirt. “You know, I don’t leave until tomorrow afternoon. I’m sure Reggie would be thrilled to have an early lunch with her old colleague’s son.”
It’s audible, the sound of Eva’s swallow, more so than the quiet, begrudging, “got it.”
Kissing my teeth, I frown, angle an ear toward her. “What was that?”
“I got it,” she repeats through gritted teeth and I smile.
“Good.” Heading toward the door again, I wait until I have one foot outside before calling over my shoulder. “I wish I could say it was nice meeting you but I’m a really bad liar.”
Luna’s laughter echoes around the hotel room. “You did not say that to her!”
“I did.”
“You called her a bitch?”
“More than once.” And she wholly deserved it.
“Do you really know the chairperson of NYU?”
“I met her a couple of times when I was a kid.” At a baseball game me and my dad bumped into her and her son, and my dad introduced me as his nephew.
Tossing away the towel she’s using to dry her hair, Luna flops on the bed beside me, propping her face in her hands and gazing up at me. “I think you’re my new hero.”
I haul her onto my chest, the soft material of the hotel robe she’s oh-so-fond of tickling my bare chest, and drop a kiss on the top of her damp hair. Forehead nestled in the curve of my neck, lips graze my collarbone. “Thank you for doing that.”
“You don’t need to thank me.” I sat there and let them talk shit about her for too long; putting one of them in their place was necessary for my own mental health.
Angling her head to stare up at me, Luna swallows. “Jackson?”
“Yeah?”
“I think I love you.”
For a moment, not a single thing passes through my brain. Another moment before I clear my dry throat. One more before I rasp my only coherent thought, “You think?” Luna’s hum is shaky, as shaky as my hands as they smooth slow, calming circles over her back. “Why do you think that?”
“Need me to stroke your ego, baby?”
One serious utterance of her name is all it takes for Luna’s bravado to falter. Teeth nibbling on her bottom lip, she thinks for long enough to test my patience. And all she manages to come up with? “You’re nice to me.”
“You think you love me because I’m nice to you?” I try and fail to hide my amusement, and get thumped as a consequence. “I’m sorry. I’m not laughing at you, I swear. I just think you need a little more reasoning than that.”
Luna pauses, and I can practically see the gears whirring in that pretty little head of hers. “You make me feel nice. Safe. I don’t know, seen or heard or whatever. You respect me and you protect me and you stick up for me. You know all my favorite things and you’re sweet to my friends and you make my mom really happy. And you make me really happy. And you’re nice to me.”
A warm feeling erupts in my chest as the words sink in. “Those are pretty good reasons.”
Cheeks pink, she shrugs.
“Luna?”
“Yeah?”
I bend so my lips hover over hers. “I know I love you.”
For the split second it takes her to hide it, I see that terrified look in her eyes. “Really?”
“Really.”
The first sniffle, I dismiss as being my imagination. The second one makes me frown. The third, I panic a little, alarm shooting through me at the sight of shimmering blue eyes, a single tear tracking a path down her cheek.
I’ve never seen her cry.
I’m not sure anyone has.
Wiping the tear away with my thumb, I cup her cheek, keeping my touch and tone gentle. “Why are you crying?”
“Because you love me and I can’t say it back.”
“You’ll say it when you’re ready.”
She lets out a watery laugh. “Sounding awfully cocky again.”
Leaning forward, I brush my lips against hers. “Just confident.”
