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 donât 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 Iâve ever heard her laugh before. And not the cute little chuckle either, the real cackle that she hates but I love.
Itâs 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? Iâll do it.
A barn roof needs repairing? Easy.
Strap a pair of skates on my feet and throw me on a patch of ice? Itâs not going to be pretty. Especially when that patch of ice has what looks like hundreds of people zipping around on it.
âItâll be fun,â Luna promises as she drags me towards a stall renting skates.
Fun, maybe. Deadly, more than likely.
I donât 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 sheâs off, gliding around effortlessly, while I can barely manage a single step without risking embarrassing injury. When she does a spinning twirly thing that wouldâve landed me in the hospital, I squint at her suspiciously. âHow are you so good?â
Skidding to a stop, Luna shrugs, anything but innocent. âI took lessons when I was a kid. Had a big crush on Tessa Virtue.â
âFor how long?â
âFive years, give or take.â The little shit cracks a smile. âIt was more like an obsession.â
Of course.
Luna holds her hands out, wiggling her fingers until I take them in mine. Slowly skating backwards, she tugs gently. âBend your knees a little.â I follow her instructions but it does nothing to help the unsteadiness of my skates.
Luna does all the work, pulling me along like Iâm a child as I grip her hands for dear life. âWell, well, well.â Lunaâs slightly smug voice has me looking up from the patch of ice Iâm 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. âI think we finally found something youâre not good at.â
âShut up.â
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. âOh my God!â
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. âOh my God,â Luna repeats in a monotone voice before pasting on the worldâs fakest smile. âWhatâre you doing here?â
Iâm not sure the girls hear the question; theyâre too busy staring at me.
âYou were telling the truth,â one of them says, surprise lacing her tone.
I frown. âExcuse me?â
âWe all thought she was lying about having a boyfriend,â the other girl chimes in, a smile on her face thatâs almost as fake as Luâs but decidedly sneakier. âNo, sorry. Not a boyfriend. Just a boy. Right, Lu?â
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. Itâs got to be those The reason I spent Thanksgiving here.
âEva. Bea.â Luna spits through gritted teeth, confirming what I already knew. âThis is Jackson. My boyfriend.â 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.
is not the word Iâd use to describe their reactions to me.
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 donât understand but Luna clearly does because she becomes even more rigid, her grip tightening, and I pull her closer. âHate to rush away so fast,â I lie, âbut weâve got to go. Lunch reservations.â
âOh, thatâs too bad.â Eva, I think, fakes a dejected expression. âWe were hoping weâd be able to get to know you. You know, while youâre still around.â
I smile, trying not to grit my teeth. âIâm sure Iâll be back soon.â
âHm.â The one I think is Bea hums, unconvinced. âWeâll see.â
Yeah, I hate them. Iâve only known them for a handful of minutes but I hate them. And thatâs not a word I use lightly, or often.
Five minutes ago, I didnât think Iâd 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. âHey, weâre going for dinner tonight. Why donât you join us?â
âI donât-â
âWe insist.â
âWe have-â
âLuna!â
âFine!â Luna practically screams as she relents, casting me apologetic eyes.
Those awful girls grin like the cats who got the cream. âGreat. Weâll see you tonight.â Slipping her phone out of her pocket, Maybe Bea holds it out towards me.âGive me your number so I can text you the details.â
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 Beaâs eyes out.
Instead of my number, I give her a dismissive look. âYou have my girlâs number. Text her.â
âWe do not have to go.â
I shoot Luna a look. Considering weâre already standing outside the restaurant, I think itâs a bit late for that.
âWe could just leave,â Luna tries again. âNo oneâs seen us yet.â
âIf you wanna leave, we can leave.â Itâs an empty offer; I know weâre not leaving. Not when thereâs 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. âWe go straight to the bar, okay?â she mutters, anxiously looking around the room in search of her so-called friends. âWe go straight to the bar, we take at least five shots, and then we find them.â
Itâs a good plan. Or at least, it would be if there wasnât a fatal flaw. If two of New Yorkâs most vapid inhabitants didnât have their eyes fixed on the entrance, spotting us as soon as we appear.
âYou came!â 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 ââbagged a hottie.â 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 theyâre looking at Luna, the way theyâre looking at me, the way theyâre looking at each other, I hate it. I canât imagine Luna ever being friends with them, ever being like them.
Lunaâs a lot of things, but mean? Cruel? Duplicitous? Never.
I keep a strong hold on Luna as the girls guide us to our table. Weâre 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. âI am so, so sorry.â
She doesnât get a chance to explain why, and I donât get time to ask. A second later, someone hollers her name. âLuna! Thereâs my girl!â
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 doesnât see it.
Heâs too busy grinning at me.
âNice to see you again, Oscar.â
It takes me a second to place him.
Owen.
The guy who called me Thanksgiving weekend. Who I only spared a âquickâ hello when he let me into his house before darting upstairs to find Luna.
I probably shouldâve guessed heâd be here. I can easily guess who orchestrated his presence. What I couldnât have guessed though is that heâd be looking at Luna the way heâs looking at her right now when Iâm standing right fucking here. Not quite as predatory, more appreciative, but still entirely unwanted.
âDamn.â He lets out a whistle. âLooking good, sugarplum.â
Oh, youâve got to be fucking kidding me.
Iâm 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. âThanks.â
Itâs quick, the flicker of annoyance, on Owenâs face, but I see it. Luna sees it, and she tilts her head back to grimace at me again. Shaking my headâ
âI dip to kiss her before nudging her toward the table.
I feel like Iâm 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.
âSorry,â Eva croons a fake apology when I crook a brow at her staring. âThis is justâ¦â
âWeird,â 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 Lunaâs shoulder, my free hand reaching for the menu just as the girl across from me picks hers up. âWow.â 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. âThis place is expensive.â
Eva follows her lead, just as lacking in thespian abilities as her friend. âOh God, I didnât realize.â She glances at Luna. âIâm so sorry, Lu. I can cover you, if you need it. You too, Jackson.â
âThat wonât be necessary.â We talked about this earlier. Luna wasnât 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.
âStart a tab for the table, please,â 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. âOrder whatever you want. Itâs on us.â
I didnât think it possible but these people are worse than I thought.
Rude. Vapid. And God, annoying. So fucking annoying.
Theyâre taking advantage of their free meal. It feels like theyâre testing me, ordering expensive shit and waiting for me to panic. Little do they know, I donât 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, Iâm at my wits end, and not because of their overspending or the incessant giggling or the flirty glances. No, itâs 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 sheâs shrinking as they chip away at her. I try to help, to refute their comments, but theyâre 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 doesnât want to give them the satisfaction. Sheâd 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.
Theyâre 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. âRemember that night, Lu?â
Lu smiles tightly. âNot really.â
âOf course she doesnât,â Bea chimes in, slapping her friend on the arm. âShe went home early that night.â
âOh, yeah.â Eva cocks her head, tone thick with innuendo, her insinuation practically slapping me in the face. âOwen did too, if I remember correctly.â
Itâs not like theyâre implying something I donât 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, Evaâs face twists in frustration. âYou know they used to fuck, right?â
Despite everything, the blurted statement shocks me. Itâs the most blatantly rude thing anyoneâs said all night; every other insult was disguised as a joke or a seemingly innocent throwaway comment, moved on from quickly.
Lunaâs 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. âYeah, I know.â
âOh.â I daresay Eva looks slightly disappointed not to have caught me off guard with her little attempted bomb. âHow about when-â
âYou know what,â Luna interrupts, downing her drink and getting to her feet. âI think weâre done for the night.â
âOh, Luna. Weâre-â
Again, Luna doesnât let her finish. She strides away without a goodbye, and Iâm not far behind. I catch her just as sheâs pushing outside, my hand gripping her elbow and pulling her to a stop. âAre you okay?â
âNo.â Shaky hands tuck her hair behind her ears. âIâm fucking pissed.â
When I wrap my arms around her, she comes easily, burying her face in my chest. âIâm sorry.â
âYou didnât do anything wrong.â
âThis was a terrible idea.â
Yeah, Iâm not going to argue that.
âI wanted to give them a chance,â Luna continues sadly, propping her chin on my chest. âTo not be assholes for once. I swear, they werenât always that bad.â
âItâs okay, sweetheart.â Stooping to kiss her forehead, I run my hands along goosebumps arms. âYou forgot your coat.â
âI canât go back in there.â
Another kiss and I release her, slipping off my jacket and wrapping it around her. âIâll get it.â
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.
âJackson.â Eva appears out of nowhere, pouting when I shake her off and step away. âYou donât have to leave.â
âYes, we do.â
â
,â she attempts to coo, but her tone is bitter. âHow cute.â
My jaw clenches. âDo we have a problem?â
âYou probably do.â For the first time tonight, that falsely polite expression fades, becoming something borderline vicious as she leans in, voice low and conspiratory. âYou know sheâs 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.â
Fucking snob.
Iâm saved from answering by the return of the waiter, fluffy pink coat in hand, but itâs a brief reprieve. When I make for the door, Eva follows. âSheâs using you.â
âThatâs enough.â
âCome on, you really like that little gold-digging tramp?â
I stop in my tracks, head whipping toward her. âWatch your mouth.â
âYou know sheâs cheating on you, right?â God, the glee on her face, the joy sheâs getting out of trying to ruin someone else, is fucking despicable. âShe fucked Owen on Thanksgiving weekend.â
I almost laugh right in her face, I really do. Utter amusement curls my mouth upward but Evaâs must be too far gone to notice because she continues, âWe went clubbing and they disappeared together. No one could get in contact with either of them for, like, two days.â
âSo?â
Frustrated that Iâm not falling for her ploy, a hint of desperation taints Evaâs tone as she blurts out, âI saw them together the day after. At a cafe. They looked pretty close. But, hey, what do I know?â
I pause briefly; call it dramatic effect. âYou saw them?â
A triumphant smile breaks out across Evaâs face. âMmhmm.â
âYou saw Luna and Owen together Thanksgiving weekend?â
â
.â She feigns being annoyed at having to repeat herself. âThey were kissing, actually.â
âThatâs weird,â I canât help but laugh, âbecause I was with Luna that weekend. All weekend. In my hotel room. And Iâm pretty sure Iâd remember if Owen was there.â
Her face falls so fast itâs downright comical. âI-â
âYouâre a bitch,â I finished for her. âA lying, manipulative, nasty bitch.â
â
â
âYou heard me,â I reply tiredly because I am so fucking done with these people. âYou and your friends are pathetic.â
I canât tell if itâs embarrassment or anger flushing previously pale cheeks a bright red color, but either way, Evaâs face reddens something fierce. âWho do you think you are?â
âSomeone you do not want to fuck with.â Cocking my head, I pretend to think for a moment. âYou go to NYU, right?â
Eva nods slowly, and I let out a thoughtful hum. âMy father used to guest lecture there. Regina MacIntyre is the Chairperson, isnât she?â
Bright red fades to slightly green as Eva nods again.
âHm. I remember her stances on anti-harassment being pretty severe.â
âWe-â
âBecause thatâs what youâre doing. Youâre harassing her.â I lean in, hoping Eva sees every bit of anger coursing through me, and the utmost sincerity in my promise. âAnd if it happens again, , Iâm not gonna be quite as nice as Iâve been tonight. Got it?â
Eva hesitates and I sigh, feigning boredom as I mess with the cuffs of my shirt. âYou know, I donât leave until tomorrow afternoon. Iâm sure Reggie would be thrilled to have an early lunch with her old colleagueâs son.â
Itâs audible, the sound of Evaâs swallow, more so than the quiet, begrudging, âgot it.â
Kissing my teeth, I frown, angle an ear toward her. âWhat was that?â
âI got it,â she repeats through gritted teeth and I smile.
âGood.â Heading toward the door again, I wait until I have one foot outside before calling over my shoulder. âI wish I could say it was nice meeting you but Iâm a really bad liar.â
Lunaâs laughter echoes around the hotel room. âYou did not say that to her!â
âI did.â
âYou called her a bitch?â
âMore than once.â And she wholly deserved it.
âDo you really know the chairperson of NYU?â
âI met her a couple of times when I was a kid.â 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 sheâs using to dry her hair, Luna flops on the bed beside me, propping her face in her hands and gazing up at me. âI think youâre my new hero.â
I haul her onto my chest, the soft material of the hotel robe sheâs 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. âThank you for doing that.â
âYou donât need to thank me.â 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. âJackson?â
âYeah?â
âI think I love you.â
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, âYou think?â Lunaâs hum is shaky, as shaky as my hands as they smooth slow, calming circles over her back. âWhy do you think that?â
âNeed me to stroke your ego, baby?â
One serious utterance of her name is all it takes for Lunaâs 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? âYouâre nice to me.â
âYou think you love me because Iâm nice to you?â I try and fail to hide my amusement, and get thumped as a consequence. âIâm sorry. Iâm not laughing at you, I swear. I just think you need a little more reasoning than that.â
Luna pauses, and I can practically see the gears whirring in that pretty little head of hers. âYou make me feel nice. Safe. I donât 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 youâre sweet to my friends and you make my mom really happy. And you make me really happy.
youâre nice to me.â
A warm feeling erupts in my chest as the words sink in. âThose are pretty good reasons.â
Cheeks pink, she shrugs.
âLuna?â
âYeah?â
I bend so my lips hover over hers. âI know I love you.â
For the split second it takes her to hide it, I see that terrified look in her eyes. âReally?â
âReally.â
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.
Iâve never seen her cry.
Iâm not sure anyone has.
Wiping the tear away with my thumb, I cup her cheek, keeping my touch and tone gentle. âWhy are you crying?â
âBecause you love me and I canât say it back.â
âYouâll say it when youâre ready.â
She lets out a watery laugh. âSounding awfully cocky again.â
Leaning forward, I brush my lips against hers. âJust confident.â