Chapter Twenty-Three
MILA
Avery and I made it to my house without speaking.
I got her upstairs, into my room, and shut the door on the rest of it.
Avery didn’t cry right away. She sat on the edge of my bed with her hands in her lap, staring at the floor, shoulders tight.
When the first tear slid, the rest followed—quiet and wrecking.
I folded her into my arms, resting my cheek against her hair. She shook against me until she finally quieted. When she pulled back, the red around her eyes made her look younger and smaller—as though she was the version of her from when I’d first met her.
“My brother hit Jax,” she said, voice scraped raw. “And then he talked about me like I wasn’t in the room.” Her mouth tightened. “As if I’m fragile, incapable of holding my own or making decisions. As if I’ll break.”
I passed her a tissue. She took it but balled it in her fist instead of using it.
“You don’t have to do anything tonight,” I said. “We can stay here. Watch TV. Hang out.”
“Stay.” She mulled over the word before blowing out a breath then finally wiped her eyes.
“I’m tired of staying. Of getting moved around like furniture.
I mean, Chase tells me I’m breakable, and suddenly, everyone’s talking at each other about me instead of to me.
What the hell?” Her gaze flicked to the window, to the thin slice of evening beyond the glass.
Then her phone pinged. She glanced at it, lips pursing. “I want to do something.”
I caught the name on her screen. Jasmine. One of Avery’s friends.
“There’s a party tonight. Jasmine and Margie are there now. It’s at Tori’s. Want to go?”
I gnawed on my lip for a second. “It’s a bad idea, Aves. The guys want us to lay low.”
Her mouth pressed into a tight line, eyes narrowed.
Some color returned to her cheeks. “I don’t care.
It’ll be a girl’s night. Besides, I need to be somewhere loud enough to drown out my brother’s voice in my head.
” Her chin lifted. “It’s a good idea. To be seen.
Not to let the rumor mill win.” She notched her chin higher. “Tonight, I’m not hiding.”
I looked her over. Too pale. Hands unsteady when she reached for her shoes. I was going to regret this, but I couldn’t say no to her when she wanted to take back the power. “Okay, but we’re staying together. I’m not leaving your side.”
The corner of her mouth lifted. “I wouldn’t let you.” She pushed to her feet and glanced around my room. “I just need to wash my face. Then let’s head out.”
“Bathroom is yours. I’m going to text Luke that I’m going to Tori’s party with you.”
“Not for permission.” Her eyes narrowed in challenge, a spark under the wreckage.
I smiled without humor. “Please. As if we need permission from them? It’s a girl’s night. I’m making that clear.” I fired off the text that stated we were going out, but not where, and then dug my keys out of my bag. It probably wasn’t smart, but I was already committed to her plan.
Avery rinsed her face and ran a brush through her long blond hair before pausing at the door, fingers on the frame, like she had one more thing to leave behind before we stepped through. She straightened her shoulders.
“Let’s go,” she said. “Before I change my mind.”
We headed for the car. The night air hit cool on my face. Somewhere down the hill, the ocean breathed steady, indifferent. I tightened my jacket. Avery blew on her hands and shoved them into her sleeves.
“Tori’s, for sure?” I asked again, already opening the passenger door. I just needed confirmation as we were invading enemy territory, even if it was an open-door party.
“Yep,” she confirmed and climbed in. “It’s Friday night. We’re not staying in.”
When we arrived at Tori’s, music bled from the house, rattling into the street in heavy, chest-punching thuds.
I’d heard her parents were out of town for the week, and she had a way of turning an empty house into a zoo.
Cars lined both sides of the block, light streaming from every window, and bodies pressed against each other in the entryway like the walls couldn’t contain them.
Avery didn’t hesitate. She was already halfway up the driveway, chin set, shoulders back, every step a dare. “I’m done,” she muttered, tossing her hair. “Done with guys calling the shots. Tonight, I’m no one’s to control.”
I caught up, tugging my jacket tighter against the ocean-cooled air. “And this fixes everything? Trading one kind of mess for another?”
Her grin was razor-thin. “It works for tonight, and that’s all I’m focusing on right now.”
Inside, heat slammed into me—beer, sweat, perfume and cologne layered too thick.
The house pulsed with music, the living room transformed into a makeshift dance floor.
Strangers’ elbows brushed mine. Someone laughed too loud in the kitchen, bottles clinking.
It was chaos but the kind Avery wanted—loud enough to drown her thoughts out.
We pushed toward the drinks table, red cups stacked high beside a jungle of half-empty bottles. Avery shoved a hastily filled cup into my hand before I could argue. She raised hers in mock toast, blue eyes catching mine over the rim. “To cutting out overbearing and out-of-control brothers.”
I tapped my cup against hers but didn’t drink. While she downed hers, I pulled my phone and shot off a quick text to Luke: Party @ Tori’s. We’re fine. Not because I needed permission. But after the rink, after the way everything felt ready to combust, it was safer to keep him looped in.
By the time we elbowed through the crowd again, Avery’s cheeks were flushed, but her laugh was lighter. She grabbed my wrist, dragging me toward the living room where bodies jumped to the beat.
“Dance with me,” she ordered, already moving.
I let her drag me into the crush. The floor vibrated under our feet, bass buzzing in my ribs. Avery swayed too close to strangers, every move a rebellion. I laughed, the sound snatched up by music, until she leaned in close, her breath hot against my ear. “See? No brothers, no rules. Just us.”
It was weird being at Tori’s, and when I glanced around, I couldn’t find her anywhere, but people spilled out into the backyard too where I caught a glimpse of a pool.
I felt the shift first—the way a crowded room tilts when someone you know walks in. Then Jax’s broad frame cut through the doorway, Theo shadowing him. Luke was a step behind. My pulse stuttered.
Jax’s gaze locked onto Avery as if pulled by a magnet. Protective, intense. His eyes flicked to me, a silent question threading between us: You watching her too?
I nodded once. He didn’t move closer. Not yet. But he hovered at the edge of the crowd, every muscle wound tight.
Avery caught sight of Jax over the crowd and froze mid-spin. Her mouth parted, and the spark she’d been burning with flamed higher. She lifted her index finger, signaling to give her a second.
I knew how that would go. It was the same with me and Luke. We were drawn to one another. This was a girl’s night, though, so I got why she wanted a moment before it was just the two of them.
A moment later, her eyes slid back to him—inevitable.
He hadn’t moved, every line of him controlled, watching only her.
Something in her expression eased, the tension of the night draining.
She brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, a small, familiar gesture that felt as though it were a signal: I see you. Just give me space.
She didn’t reach for him. Not yet. But she didn’t look away either. The choice hung there between them—unspoken, fragile—before the music swallowed her again.
I tugged her wrist. “Refill?” My excuse as much as hers. We shoved through the crush until the throb of music dimmed near the drinks table.
Elise slid into the space beside us, Nina at her elbow. She trailed her fingers along the lineup of cups, claiming the space as though she owned it, before drifting closer, lips curved in a smile that wasn’t one.
“Nice party,” Elise murmured, eyes sweeping the room before pinning Avery. Then her gaze flicked toward Jax, and the smile cut sharper. “Funny. Thought you’d be home crying over your mess.” Her gaze flicked to where Jax waited. “Guess you weren’t enough for your brother’s friend either.”
The words landed like glass shattering. Avery’s body went rigid. Her grip on her cup tightened until the plastic crinkled.
“Go to hell, Elise.”
Elise’s smile sharpened, lazy and cruel. “Already there. Want me to save you a seat?”
I stepped forward, but Elise leaned in first, lips brushing Avery’s ear. Whatever she whispered made Avery flinch, her hand jerked, and her drink sloshed down her shirt in a dark streak.
“Shit,” Avery muttered, fumbling for napkins.
Elise plucked a cup off the table and pressed it into Avery’s hand with an exaggerated eye roll. “Try not to embarrass yourself any more than you already have.”
Avery took it—cheeks flushed with more than embarrassment—and tipped it back. A defiant swallow, eyes locked on Elise.
I caught the curl of victory in Elise’s smile before I saw anything in Avery. She drank deep, eyes locked on Elise as if downing the rest of it was a challenge.
Avery laughed suddenly, too loud for the moment, tugging me close as if we were just two girls at a party. For a second, it almost worked—her cheeks flushed, her grin wide. She even stole a glance toward Jax at the edge of the crowd, chin tilted like she could prove she wasn’t afraid.
Minutes blurred—music pounding, Avery pulling Jax into her orbit with a lift of her chin.
He’d moved in close, telling Elise to back the hell off.
Avery didn’t flinch. Instead, she angled her face toward him, daring.
“Why are you here, Jax?” She narrowed her eyes at me, but there was no anger. “Did Mila tell where we were going?”
His answer was low, firm. “Where you go, I go.”
Her laugh shot past her lips. “Then I’m going to dance.”