Chapter 81
BELLA
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“Is she dead?” Knox’s voice rings out from the kitchen, way too loud for someone not being murdered.
“No,” Cade says, pouring himself a cup of coffee. “She groaned when I opened the blinds. Then threatened my bloodline.”
“She’s alive,” Lex mutters, padding down the hall shirtless, still towel-damp with a hand raking through his hair. “Just currently in a bourbon-and-glitter-induced coma. Caused by way too many shots, rainwater, and one too many lap dances.”
Knox snorts. “Y’all were five seconds from banging on the dance floor. Again.”
“She was… enthusiastic,” Cade laughs.
“Enthusiastic?” Lex scoffs. “She bit me, Cade.”
Knox tosses a gummy worm at him. “You looked like you were gonna break the floorboards of the damn rain stage. Spontaneous combustion is real.”
Lex shrugs, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m fine. Not sure about my jeans though.”
“Pretty sure Bella’s the one who shredded them,” Cade adds, casual.
Lex grins. “Worth it.”
My phone buzzes violently on the nightstand, followed by more, then more. I groan from under a mountain of pillows, one eye barely cracking open.
ELLIE: Um… where is Bella?
HALEY: Yeah, group chat is sooo DEAD without her.
ELLIE: Also?
ELLIE: Why did I wake up in DeShawn’s shirt??
HALEY: Girl, you STRIPPED YOURSELF on the Pit mat.
ELLIE: Lies.
HALEY: Rez had to cover your ass with a Trifecta fight night banner.
KNOX: Confirmed. I have the video.
ELLIE: You’re all fake as hell for letting me live like this.
LEX: She’s still passed out.
ELLIE: UGH. I miss her chaos.
ELLIE: Also… do we think I’m dating DeShawn now?
HALEY: You literally proposed and kissed his biceps.
ELLIE: SHUT UP
HALEY: It was lowkey romantic.
CADE: Correction Hales, it was lowkey creepy.
Footsteps thud outside the room. The door creaks open and Lex pokes his head in, smirk locked and loaded. Cade follows, armed with a water bottle and a bag of sour gummy worms.
I groan from the blankets. “No.”
“Dramatic much?” Lex says, strolling in. “You danced for six hours, took who knows how many shots, and rode me like a damn rodeo queen in front of half of New York.”
“You make it sound like a felony,” I croak.
“Oh, it was,” he says, flopping down beside me. “Still recovering. I’m pretty sure I pulled a hip.”
Cade gently pulls the covers down and hands me the water.
“Hydrate or die, bitch,” Lex says in his best Rico impression.
I glare and whisper, “Everything’s too loud. Even your jawline is loud.”
Lex barks a laugh. “You’ll live.”
I sigh, cracking the bottle open. “This is what victory feels like? Bourbon and bruises.”
They settle in beside me, heat radiating on both sides like living heating pads. Lex draws lazy circles on my thigh.
Cade kisses my hairline. “We canceled everything today,” he says softly.
“We leave for Nationals in a couple days,” Lex adds. “Thought we’d hang, pack, maybe watch Ellie spiral about her new fake fiancé.”
“Oh my God,” I groan into Cade’s shoulder. “That’s gonna be a whole-ass telenovela.”
Cade grins. “With fight rings instead of wedding rings.”
Lex deadpans, “Til bruises do us part.”
I laugh, then wince. “Ow. Even my laugh is hungover.”
The door creaks open again, because Knox doesn’t believe in knocking.
He just strolls right in, sunglasses already on, backpack slung over one shoulder.
“Alright, I’m out,” he announces. “See you degenerates at the airport.” He eyes me sprawled like a corpse.
“Bella, sweetie… try not to barf on anything important. Like Cade’s shirts. Or Lex’s ego.”
With a groan, I blindly grab the nearest weapon—my water bottle—and hurl it at his head. It thuds against the door frame.
“Whoa! Friendly fire!” Knox ducks, laughing. “Look likes your arm is still working. Impressive.”
I flip him off. “Get out,” I croak, burrowing deeper into the blanket.
“Love you too,” he calls as he backs down the hallway. “Remember, hydration and vibes only, bitch.” The door clicks shut behind him.
Lex snorts. “He’s lucky you didn’t hit him.”
“Please. If I wanted to hit him, he’d still be on the floor. I was aiming for his ego,” I mutter, curling into Cade’s side like a hungover goblin.
Cade stretches beside me, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “You want me to make you something to eat?”
“Oh my God. Yes. Anything greasy and terrible for me. Bonus points if it’s covered in syrup and regret.”
He bends down to kiss my temple. “Back in a few, sweetheart.”
I watch him walk out shirtless, yawning, muscles flexing with every lazy stretch. I’m already picturing pancakes, bacon, hash browns, the works.
The second the door shuts, Lex props himself up on one elbow, eyes glinting, mouth already curved with that unmistakable look. The look that says there is trouble brewing and he’s fully aware of it.
“Damn, baby…” he drawls.
I blink at him. “What now?”
He reaches out, brushing hair off my face, knuckles grazing my cheek like he’s trying to kill me with slow affection.
“You were so sexy last night. That damn top? Lex’s Bitch?
” He groans like he’s physically in pain.
“I nearly lost it. I was five seconds from pulling you off that table and fucking you over the DJ booth.”
I laugh, voice still scratchy. “We’d get banned from The Row.”
“We’d get crowned, more like it.” He leans in, mouth brushing my jaw. “And get this, my dad saw it.”
“Wait. What?”
He grins. “Yeah. He was there. Lurking in the shadows like a Bond villain. Said, and I quote, ‘My son’s girl might need to be carried out, but at least she’s the hottest one in the building,’ or some shit like that.”
I smack his chest. “Lex! You didn’t tell me your father was watching!”
He shrugs like it’s nothing. “He was impressed.”
I groan, burying my face in my hands. “That makes two of them. Roman was there too.”
Lex rears back. “Excuse me?! Why was that fucker there?”
“Chill, baby. He was doing his whole mafia-Batman thing. Perched near the exit, glaring at anyone who breathed near me.”
Lex blinks, then snorts. “What the fuck kind of weird parent trap spin-off shit did we end up creating?”
We both start laughing. Which is a mistake. Laughing hurts. Everything hurts. But I’m still giggling when he slides closer, pressing a kiss to my neck.
His hand slips under the hoodie I stole last night—his hoodie, oversized and warm and totally mine now. “Seeing you in this does things to me, baby.”
“I’m literally dying,” I mutter. “My soul is ninety percent bourbon and bad decisions.”
“And yet you’re still the hottest fucking thing in this city.”
He pulls the hoodie up, exposing my bare skin, and lets out a low groan. His mouth finds my collarbone, kissing lower, dragging his tongue over the edge of my breast until his lips close over my nipple. My gasp echoes, sharp and needy, as my fingers thread into his hair.
He groans into my skin. “You’re gonna kill me, baby. I swear to God, you’re gonna end me.”
“You sound so sad about it.”
“I’ll die with a smile,” he growls, sliding a hand down to grip my thigh.
Just as I arch into him—
“Well, that’s just rude.”
We both freeze.
Cade stands in the doorway holding a full plate like a disappointed husband who just walked in on his cheating wife. “Didn’t even wait for me? Sent me off to make you food while you guys jump each other’s bones without me.”
Lex lifts his head. “You made pancakes?”
Cade rolls his eyes. “Yes. For her. Not for your sex-demon-ass.”
I yank the hoodie back down, cheeks on fire. “It wasn’t… I mean technically we didn’t finish, or start really.”
“Uh-huh.” Cade hands me the plate and flops down beside us.
I immediately inhale a strip of bacon like I’ve been starved for months. “God, I love you,” I mumble around the grease.
He kisses my cheek. “Love you too, sweetheart.”
Lex wipes his mouth and drapes an arm around my waist, smug. “Ditto.”
We eat in sleepy silence, sun streaking across the bed, our legs tangled like it’s just another lazy morning.
Cade licks syrup off his fork. “So, what exactly should we expect at Nationals?”
I pause mid-bite, raise an eyebrow. “Pain. Glitter. Probably Hales getting into a fight with someone’s mom.”
“And my sister?” he asks.
“Oh, she’ll cry backstage, threaten to quit, then pull off a perfect triple flip into a death drop like the drama queen she is.”
Lex grins. “Can’t wait.”
“Yeah, Nationals is no joke.” I take another bite of pancake, swallow hard. “It’s two full days. Big groups and solos only dance once. They win, they go to Worlds.”
I exhale, leaning back against the headboard. “But trios and duos? You have to kill it on day one and land in the top three just to earn a shot to dance again on day two. Then on day two, you have to win first place before you can make it to Worlds.”
Lex raises an eyebrow, swirling syrup on his plate. “So no pressure at all. Just survive the bloodbath, then do it again, only flawlessly on a bigger stage with judges breathing down your neck.” He leans in, voice lower, softer. “Good thing pressure looks good on you, baby.”
“And the guest judge?” I groan, stabbing my pancake like it owes me money. “Fucking Alejandro Miguel Santibanez. The Latin dance god. The man could choreograph a salsa with his eyes closed and still make it sexier than half the shit we’ve done all season.”
They both look at me like I’m speaking in a foreign language.
“Ugh! He’s only one of the biggest Latin choreographers in the world. He’s a living legend. I’m so nervous! Especially since the Trifecta’s doing two Latin numbers. If we screw up even a little, he’ll see it.”
Cade sets down his fork and looks at me with those damn hazel eyes. “Hey, sweetheart. You’re ready for this. You girls have trained harder than anyone I’ve ever seen. He’s not gonna see a flaw, Bella. He’s going to see fire.”
???
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Later that Night
Cade’s dinner was insanely delicious. Some creamy garlic pasta that melted in my mouth, a crisp lemony salad, and homemade bread that made me moan indecently at the table.