Zach
I hated the way Amber tried to pull away from me. Then she raised her head and held it high.
“Hello, Alisha,” she said.
Alisha studied us both, her gaze flicking back and forth until it became obvious. Her jaw slackened, eyes widening as they met mine. I saw the vicious look settle in before she spoke.
“You’re fucking your sister,” she sneered, before her eyes cut to Amber. “And you. You sick little bitch. I saw how you used to look at him.”
I released Amber and stood, stepping out from the booth to tower over her.
“And I should’ve seen what a nasty little bitch you were. You haven’t changed at all,” I said, staring at the two-inch-thick layer of makeup caked over her face. “You know exactly why I was with you.”
We’d used each other, back when we ran in the same popular circles. Alisha had quite the reputation with the guys. I hadn’t been any better back then—seeking physical connection with anyone I could get my hands on.
Amber moved to stand beside me, resting her hand flat against my chest.
“You’re both sick freaks,” Alisha said, her lip curling.
The disgust was written plainly across her face. She glanced between us, then took a step back, putting distance between herself and whatever she thought we were.
“Wait until I tell the others,” she said, before turning away to wait for her order, heels clicking sharply against the tile.
“Well, that wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be,” Amber said, watching Alisha’s retreating back. “I think Mum and Luke might take our news better than I anticipated.”
“Everyone should have your level of delusion,” I muttered.
“What?” she asked, sitting down again. “She knows damn well we aren’t related by blood. She can tell whoever she wants.”
I studied her for a moment and decided I loved her delusion. It was better than her feeling bad about the past, or reacting badly to Alisha’s foolish commentary.
The waitress arrived with our drinks just as I sat down. I watched Amber’s lips tighten around her straw before she sucked, and I was already counting down the days until the next visit.
Alisha picked up her food, but her eyes stayed on us as she left. I could handle her vitriol. I didn’t want Amber anywhere near it.
I lifted my phone and switched my status from single to in a relationship, tagging Amber Rayne. Then I took a selfie, our milkshakes visible in frame.
My future wife. Mrs. Amber Rayne.
Tagged Amber.
Hit post.
I set my phone down and watched as Amber got her notification. Before she could check her phone, the waitress arrived with our food. Her phone was forgotten as she reached for the condiments.
She began discussing university options as she picked up a ketchup-coated sweet potato fry. Her healthy choice.
It wouldn’t be long before we could live together. No Luke, no hiding from Isabella, no weird bitch stalking her.
Amber had stopped talking and was expecting a response from me.
“Yeah,” I said, nodding with a smile, and she continued to chatter, only pausing when she had a mouthful of burger.
? ? ?
She leaned back and stuck her belly out before patting it. That sexy little paunch bulged until my dick began to harden.
Such a pity she was on the pill now.
Whoa. Where did that thought come from? We were not ready for parenthood.
She lifted her phone with her free hand, and her head snapped toward me.
“What did you do?” she gasped, sitting upright.
“Relax. Isabella is hardly on social media.”
“That’s beside the point,” she cried, scrolling rapidly now. “Oh god. Look at all these comments.”
“Would you rather have had Alisha narrate for us?”
Her head snapped up. Lips pursed as she briefly considered the options.
“Bah. I suppose not.”
It was good to know Amber didn’t overreact. Because now everyone knew she was mine. Especially that little dickwad Nolan.
Luke would find out, but he wouldn’t want to upset Isabella.
I put my arm around Amber.
? ? ?
I parked two streets over out of habit, even though half the neighbourhood had probably already seen the post. Old instincts died hard.
Amber practically vibrated beside me the whole walk back, hood up, hands shoved in her pockets, grinning like she’d gotten away with something. Maybe she had. Maybe we both had. We’d done this before, but today was different.
The house sat dark when we reached it. No porch light. No blue flicker of the telly through the front room curtains.
“Mum said she’d be back by six,” Amber said, frowning at her phone.
I checked the driveway. Empty.
No Luke either.
Something loosened in my chest that I didn’t examine too closely.
“Guess we’ve got the place to ourselves,” I said, already reaching for her hand.
She let me pull her up the path, key already in her other hand. The door clicked open onto silence—proper silence, the kind that told you a house was actually empty, not just quiet.
“Should we be worried?” she asked, flicking on the hallway light.
“About what? Isabella having a life?” I toed my shoes off. “Relax. Text her.”
Amber tapped out a message while I locked the door behind us. My phone buzzed in my pocket a second later. Not hers. Mine.
Twenty-three notifications and climbing.
Right. The post.
I silenced it and followed her upstairs, already thinking about exactly how I wanted her once we got behind a closed door with no risk of anyone walking in.
We didn’t bother with the pretence of separate rooms. Not tonight.
? ? ?
Two hours later, I was half-asleep with Amber sprawled across my chest, her breath warm against my collarbone, when I heard it.
The front door.
Voices.
Fuck.
“—don’t know why you’re worried, poppet’s a grown woman,” Luke’s voice drifted up, low and amused.
I went rigid. Amber’s head shot up off my chest.
“They’re back,” she hissed, already scrambling upright.
“You think?” I grabbed my jeans off the floor, hopping into them one-legged.
Amber sniffed herself, eyes going wide with horror.
“I smell like sex,” she whispered, already bolting for the door. “I smell like you.”
“Where are you—”
“Shower. Main bathroom. Stall them or hide.”
And then she was gone, bare feet slapping down the hallway before I could even process what had just happened.
Footsteps on the stairs.
Isabella’s voice, closer now. “I just want to check on her. She’s been quiet lately. Then there is this post. It has to be a joke.”
I stood there, shirtless, holding my socks like an idiot, weighing my odds of making it out the window versus just walking downstairs and owning it. I stared at the closet door for a moment.
We did post it on the internet for the whole world to see.
Might as well let Isabella hear it from us instead of Alisha’s rumour mill.
I opened the door before Isabella could open it herself.
“Hey,” I said, aiming for casual and landing somewhere closer to a man who’d clearly been caught.
Isabella’s eyes went wide. Then wider. Then they dropped, very deliberately, to my bare chest.
“Oh,” she said.
Behind her, Luke appeared on the landing, took one look at me, and grinned like Christmas had come early.
“Well,” he said. “This should be interesting.”
“Zach,” Isabella said, before looking behind me for Amber. “When did you get here?”
“Yesterday,” I said, staring at Luke as he stuffed his hands in his pockets.
“So, it’s true?” she asked, holding up her phone.
I may have miscalculated her online presence.
Luke came up behind her and rubbed her arms.
“Like I said. She’s an adult, sweetheart.”
“She’s still my baby,” Isabella murmured.
I stared at the woman who’d tried so hard to include me in everything they did. From cooking to family outings. The comfort she’d attempted to give me after my father died. The patience she’d held onto while I disrespected her.
“She was always supposed to be a Rayne,” I murmured. “One way or another.”
“Oh,” she repeated, glancing around the room for Amber.
“She’s in the bathroom.”
She nodded, still dazed from the confirmation of our illicit relationship.
“Right. Right,” she repeated, before turning into Luke’s waiting arms.
His smirk was gone, his focus entirely on comforting Isabella.
“Don’t make me come for you, Zach,” he said quietly, but his eyes were hard and cold.
It was nice to see him without his mask.
Fucker.