22. The Starry Night
WEST
Asalty breeze whips my face as the yacht sways beneath my Vans. The ocean stretches out, an endless blue carpet rolled out just for us. Holy shit, this is next level.
I’m playing the role, rocking the tuxedo and sipping the martini.
A server glides by with a tray of champagne flutes, straight out of Downton Abbey, and I snag one because why not? “Enjoy the cruise, sir.” His smile is practiced.
“Thanks, man,” I say before he floats off to offer his gold tray to someone probably named Muffy or Chad.
I take a sip, as I lean against the railing, trying to look casual. Even though last night Skye talked me into telling Eva how I felt, today changed everything.
That’s because it was a day of watching Eva from a distance with her family who’s like royalty, making plans and having events that included Foster.
If there was a right time to tell her, it sure wasn’t today, and it sure as hell isn’t now as she’s sitting at the wedding party dinner table, holding hands with Foster.
The golden sun dips low, painting the sky in shades of fire. As I scan the crowd, I remember I’m supposed to be on Groomsman to Groom duty—flirting with Brielle, Jess, and Olivia—but who am I kidding? A cosmic string pulls my gaze to her.
Eva.
She’s laughing at something Foster said, her head thrown back. My chest tightens because she should be laughing like that with me.
Focus, West.
My parents weren’t invited to tonight’s festivities, and although that irks me, at least I don’t have to worry about them. I leave the champagne on a collection tray and plaster on a rogue grin as I move across the deck and flip on the charm. “So, Brielle,” I say with calculated nonchalance, “ever wanted to be with a merman?”
A hand flutters to her mouth, eyes glinting with amusement. “Depends. Are we talking Aquaman or The Little Mermaid’s dad-type?”
Jess joins the circle. “Definitely Aquaman. Who wouldn’t want to be ravaged by Jason Momoa?”
“But wait.” Brielle puts up a finger. “The bottom half of them is a fish, which means no packages.”
I shrug. “Actually, mermen do have penises, but they’re buds.”
“Oh, then hell no!” Jess says.
“It’s impressive that you know that, West.” Brielle laughs.
Jess arches an eyebrow. “I don’t know about impressive—but it’s something.” Her laugh gives away her bluff. “I bet you have more than a bud.”
“Definitely more.” I clink my glass against both of theirs. “To random, useless knowledge that may or may not be impressive.” Their laughter fades into the buzz of conversations when my eyes betray me, sneaking another glance at Eva.
She and Foster are picture-perfect—her smile could light up the ocean below. Earlier, Foster was doing that thing where he touches her lower back, his fingers grazing just above the curve of her hips. It was casual. Intimate. Possessive.
The taste of envy is bitter on my tongue. I turn back to the bridesmaids, my smile as authentic as a three-dollar bill.
“West, you okay?” Concern twists Brielle’s face.
“Never better,” I lie, my hammering heart suggesting otherwise. “Just thought I saw a dolphin.”
“Really? Where?” Brielle peers past my shoulder, and I’m grateful for the distraction.
“Must’ve been my imagination.” All I can think about is being the one making Eva laugh, the one who knows where to put my hand on her back to make her shiver.
“Your loss,” Jess chimes in. “Dolphins are good luck, especially at weddings.”
“Guess I’ll just have to settle for the luck of two stunning bridesmaids.” I’m fighting to keep up with witty comebacks and playful smiles.
The clinking of a glass pulls my attention away. Eva’s dad stands, and all chatter dissipates as he commands the room. He’s got that proud papa bear look as he raises his champagne flute, grinning so wide I’m surprised his face doesn’t crack.
“Everyone, if I could have your attention,” he booms. The crowd falls silent, all pairs of eyes fixed on him.
“Tonight I want to toast my firecracker, Paige.” His voice softens, and there’s this twinkle in his eyes. “From the moment she could walk, that girl was charming the socks off everyone and surprising me at every turn.”
I smile because it’s true. Paige is a charmer—she could convince a nun to hit Vegas. But I can’t help but sneak a glance at Eva. She’s clapping along, but I see the glint of something deeper in her eyes. Pride? Wistfulness?
“Let me tell you about the time I caught Paige, six years old, sweet-talking a customer service rep into helping her open her own bank account.” Neil chuckles, and the crowd laps it up like it’s the last round of beers. “I knew then she was a chip off the old block—Daddy’s girl through and through.”
Yikes. My eyes dart to Eva, along with several others, watching her expression because we all can’t help but wonder how that phrase must’ve made her feel.
Eva’s smiling wide, only the slightest shift in her chair giving away her discomfort.
So Paige opened a bank account. Eva has told me that she spent the same age plotting how to save the world. And just two years later, she’d be the one to save her struggling family.
Neil doesn’t miss a beat, jumping straight into another tale. “Fast forward to college, and there Paige was, backpacking across Europe. No reservations, no fear, just pure adventure. I couldn’t be prouder of my little globetrotter. She’s always been special.”
The room swells with applause and whistles, but I can’t peel my eyes away from Eva. She’s the picture of grace as she claps for her sister, yet I catch that telltale shadow flickering behind her smile. Doesn’t her asshole father see she’s got Paige’s same fire? It’s in a kitchen instead of a mountain, but fuck, it’s all there.
It’s taking everything in me to keep from jumping on a table and shouting out how Eva’s every bit the badass her sister is—and then some.
Neil finishes with, “To my daughter, the killer-instinct prosecuting attorney who seizes the bad guys and life by the throat and wrestles them into submission.” A chorus of laughs ripples through the guests. “In every family, there’s that one person who makes you smile like no other, who you look at with awe. In ours, that’s Paige—she’s fearless, brilliant, and destined for greatness.” His gaze sweeps over the crowd, not lingering a second on Eva, whose smile is tight. “Here’s to Paige!”
“To Paige,” the room echoes, and I clink glasses with Jess, who’s smiling at me.
But in my head, I’m rewriting the toast. Here’s to Eva: the unsung hero, the quiet strength, the woman who damn well deserves her own standing ovation.
Eva’s clapping, sure, but her lips are caught between her teeth like she’s trying to trap the words about to spill out. And her expression—it screams ‘I’m fine’ in a language that means anything but.
Shit.I know that look—it’s the same one I see in the mirror sometimes, when I think too hard about what I’m doing or trying to prove.
“It’s time for dancing!” Neil announces, and the crowd shuffles to the floor as the music starts.
“Look at those birds flying just above the surface of the water.” Brielle leans close enough for me to catch the scent of her jasmine perfume.
“Where?” Jess snaps a selfie with the ocean backdrop.
“Wow,” I say, but I’m not looking. My eyes glue to Eva, who’s smiling as she’s waving Foster to join the group of guests moving onto the dance floor. But instead of joining them, she politely excuses herself, her grace concealing the stiff set of her shoulders to everyone but me.
She slips away toward the restroom, and my heart thumps against my ribs. Screw it. Bridesmaids can wait.
“Excuse me, ladies,” I say, putting down my glass. “Nature calls.” I leave, knowing exactly where to look. Sure enough, I head past the bathrooms and up the stairs, finding Eva on the top deck, the ocean breeze playing with her dark curls. She’s staring out at the vast water, her arms wrapped around herself like she’s holding in the world’s weight.
“Hey,” I say softly, coming to stand beside her.
“Hey.” She doesn’t look at me. “You didn’t have to come.”
“I know.” My mind flips through the Rolodex of Eva’s favorite topics, and when I land on one, my eyes move skyward. “You might know this, but it takes millions of years for a star’s light to reach our eyes. Gazing at the night sky is like looking really far back in time.”
“I didn’t know that, actually.” Her gaze drifts up. “So what we’re admiring is the ghosts of stars?”
“Exactly.”
“The universe’s time capsule,” we say in unison. Then we both call out, “Jinx,” and then, “Double jinx,” at the same time. When that happens, which it does often, Eva gets to punch my shoulder, not too hard, which she does.
I pretend it hurts more than it does, grabbing my shoulder and stepping back, and she busts up. I don’t know why, but this always makes her laugh.
Then her face turns serious as she looks back up at the sky. “Makes you wonder, doesn’t it?” She sighs. “Okay, I’ve got one. The sun is the closest star to Earth, but do you know how long it’d take for us to travel there by plane?”
“Long enough to need some serious in-flight entertainment.”
She smiles, a twinkle appearing in her eyes. “Definitely.”
We stare above, and everything quiets except the lap of ocean waves and the hum of the yacht’s motor. I know the answer, but that’s no fun. So I finally say, “Five years?”
“Close. Try nineteen years.”
I make my eyes go wide. “Nineteen? Seriously?”
She playfully smacks my shoulder. “You knew the answer.”
“Caught me.” I smile adoringly at her. I should know I can’t pull stuff like that with her.
I catch a glimpse of a dark spot in the ocean that looks like a portal to another world. “Makes you appreciate those same-day Amazon deliveries, huh?”
“Totally.” She bumps into my side playfully. “But imagine the frequent flier miles.”
We stand, catching our breath, and her eyes move over the water. I hesitate, giving her another moment before I say, “Wanna talk about it?”
She looks down. “About how my own father likes my sister more than me? How he goes out of his way to point out how much better she is than I am?” The hurt in her voice stings.
“I’m sorry, Eva,” I say because what the hell else is there to say? She’s right—her dad’s speech was rough.
“I feel like such an asshole for being jealous.”
“No way. You’re being human. And none of what your father said is true. You’re loyal to your family, and you sacrifice your wants for theirs. If that’s not brave, I don’t know what is.”
She nods hesitantly. “You think?”
“Of course.” I want to tear into Neil, tell him that every time he looks past her, it makes me want to shake him. But that’s not what I should share with her, so I finally settle on, “I’m sure he loves you as much. He’s probably just caught up in the wedding crap, so he’s focused on Paige. Because there’s no doubt that you’re a one-of-a-kind, kick-ass, incredible woman who has it all, hands-down.”
She looks at me, an expression of hope and maybe some sort of adoration. “West,” she whispers, a mist forming in her eyes.
The way she says my name makes me feel, for a fleeting moment, that maybe there’s a place for a guy like me in her complicated, beautiful world.
She steps in and cups her hand over my cheek, her eyes so damn bright and beautiful.
I whisper, “You create the most beautiful and amazing desserts I’ve ever tasted. You know how to make everyone feel welcome and at home, no matter who they are. You can play the old-school Nintendo with your toes. I mean, you can do it all, Manhattan.”
She manages a smile. “That is pretty impressive, isn’t it?”
“Stunningly impressive.”
“Thanks for this, West.” She smiles for real. “I didn’t know how much I needed this moment with you until we just had it.” She leans in, locking her eyes with mine. Then she licks her lips, mumbling, “We already crossed the line once. I mean, what’s one more?”
“Right.” I shrug. “And, I mean, we’re at a wedding.”
“Exactly. It’s like one level below Vegas. You know. What happens at weddings…”
“Stays at weddings,” I finish.
She pulls me into the glassed-in private bedroom next to us and slides the door closed. The gap between us closes, our lips touching. As our mouths move slowly, it’s like we’re dancing on the edge of a blade—too scared to fall, too entranced to pull away.
Her fingers trace the line of my jaw—a touch that sends shivers down my spine as she pulls me deeper into unknown territory. The kind where a guy like me could easily lose his way, forget the map, and toss the compass because getting lost feels more like being found.
“Jesus,” I mutter as her tongue slides against mine, bold and unapologetic. Her kiss is a mix of sophistication and wild abandon.
I’ve kissed women before—hell, I’ve kissed Eva before. But now? It’s like we’re speaking our own language. My hands roam to her waist, anchoring her to me, as if she might slip away if I don’t hold tight enough. And there’s that fear beneath it all—that this moment is fleeting.
“Crossing the line feels so good,” she rasps, out of breath.
“So, so good.”
“I don’t want to go back right now,” she whispers. “Will you stay with me?”
Hell, yeah. “Of course.”
She runs a finger across my cheek. “If we go our separate ways, I’ll regret never knowing what it’s like with you.”
“Me too.” Right now nothing seems to matter more than the magnetic pull drawing me to her, as undeniable as gravity, as infinite as the cosmos.