I barely parked when I saw a familiar figure lounging by my front steps, hands in his pockets, wearing that signature smirk that always meant trouble.
“Jay?” I stepped out of the car, eyebrows raised.
He straightened, smug as ever. “Good. You’re home. For a minute, I thought I’d have to break in through the window.”
I gave him a t look. “At the rate things are going, maybe I should just give you and Sophia spare keys. Save everyone the hassle.”
Jay grinned. “Not a bad idea. We’re basically unofficial tenants at this point.”
I crossed my arms. “What are you doing here? What are you up to now?”
“Sophia sent me to fetch you,” he said dramatically. “Tonight’s the pre–birthday–slumber- bash–extravaganza. Her words, not mine.” <fn554f> ???? ????s? ???????s ?? f?ndnovel</fn554f>
I blinked. “Wait. I’m sleeping at Liam’s again?”
Jay burst intoughter. “You wish. No, the pre–bash is at my ce this time. Liam banned Sophia from throwing any more parties at his house after the Great Pool Party Disaster.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Disaster?”
He tilted his head. “There was fire. And cops. And an intable swan that mysteriously exploded. Trust me. It’s a long story.”
I stared. “Why does that somehow sound believable?”
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“Because it is. Now, pack your things. Sophia said if I return without you, I’m officially the worst brother in the whole world.”
“Wow. Tragic,” I teased. “Give me five minutes.”
Jay’s house was tucked in a gated LA neighborhood that looked straight out of a billionaire real estate magazine. Tall hedges, pristine stone paths, a view of the hills, and a home made almost entirely of ss and modern steel. Sleek. Artistic. Totally him.
Inside, the prep for Sophia’s pre–birthday bash was already in motion. Lights being tested. Velvet ropes arranged. Elegant tters of hors d’oeuvres on disy. A ylist thumping softly from invisible speakers in the walls. Staff moved with quiet precision like this was a red–carpet g and not just a “casual” party.
“This is not the main party?” I asked Jay as I stepped inside.
He smirked. “Wait till tomorrow.
Sophia came running like a five–year–old on sugar andunched herself into a hug. “Finally! I’ve been waiting for hours!”
“I had to pack, you maniac.”
“Let me guess… while you were at it, you looked for the perfect excuse not to show up.”
I stayed quiet. Which said enough.
Sophia dragged me upstairs to one of Jay’s extravagant guest rooms. Within minutes, she had makeup spread out like a Sephora showroom and two garment bags lined up.
“Tonight’s dress is a surprise,” she said, unzipping one with ir.
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It was deep crimson. Satin. A thigh–high slit. Straps so thin they looked like whispers. “Don’t argue. You’re wearing this.”
I blinked. “I’m not even sure how to sit in that.”
“You don’t sit. You float. You glide.”
“With what? Confidence?”
“Exactly.”
With the help of her makeup artist and enough hair spray to hold up a chandelier, I was transformed. The mirror showed a version of me that looked expensive, sleek, and a little dangerous.
“You’re scary hot,” Sophia said, beaming.
“I don’t recognize myself.”
“Great. Time to join the party.”
Downstairs, the party was already in full swing.
The bass pulsed through the floor. People danced beneath strobing lights. Someone bnced champagne flutes on a tray while swaying to the music. There was glitter,ughter, mini photo ops, and people I swore I’d seen on magazine covers.
I scanned the room, taking in every face.
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No Liam.
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Jay caught me looking. “You can rx. He neveres to this part. He’ll show up tomorrow for the main event.”
I exhaled, finally easing into the energy of the room. I hadn’t even taken a full sip of champagne before Mason walked in.
Tall,posed, effortlessly polished, and undeniably present.
I turned immediately to Sophia, who stood beside me like an angel with horns.
“You invited him,” I used.
She batted hershes. “Guilty.”
Mason made his way over, smiling softly. “Hey.”
“Hi,” I said, trying to sound casual. “About the photo…”
“I had no idea someone snapped us. If I had, I’d have done something.”
“It’s okay,” I said. “My face wasn’t clear. Nobody knows it’s me.”
“I’m aware of that,” he said gently. “Still. It shouldn’t have happened.”
I nodded. “Thanks. But really, it’s fine.”
The awkwardness melted into something easier. Mason had that way of making conversation feel effortless.
Then the lights dimmed, the music swelled, and the wild part of the night began.
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Someone started a dance circle. There were shots passed around. People kicked off their heels and climbed onto low tables. It was the kind of freedom you could only find at a party where everyone was too rich to care and too tipsy to judge.
“Come dance with me,” Mason said.
I hesitated for a second. Then gave in and let him pull me towards him.
The beat dropped. The room faded. It was just music and rhythm and limbs andughter. We danced like old friends who didn’t care what came next. His hands stayed respectful but close. Mine wandered freely. It felt like being young and wild and consequence–free.
Then Cardi B came on, and the whole vibe shifted.
Something in me snapped. Maybe it was the music. Maybe it was the champagne. Or the way Mason was smiling at me like I was the only person left in the room.
I turned around, started dancing harder, bolder and feeling the rush of being unrecognizable for once. Twerking against Mason, whoughed and yed along, hands on my waist but never crossing a line.
I threw my head back andughed, totally alive in that moment.
Until I saw him.
Standing at the doorway.
Liam
Expression unreadable.
Hands clenched at his sides.
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Eyes locked on mine.
The room didn’t dim, but it might as well have.
Because suddenly, I couldn’t hear the music anymore.
And the only thing louder than the bass was the storm in his stare.