12. MJ
MJ
“ I swear on this Vera Bradley wristlet, if you two let me leave here without making me promise to ignore that Lion tonight, I’m setting your maternity pillow on fire and I’m banning your husband from my Nutella stash!”
“Sweetie,” Carina says, waddling beside me in a goddess-level wrap dress that shows off her third-trimester belly bump and glows with built-in glamor.
“You think I waddled all the way up this marble staircase to leave you without any real advice? Please ,” Carina says, walking me out of the car and up the stairs so she can get a better peek at this mansion and almost tumbling over in the process.
“Oh my God, Carina, please don’t trip! Horace is already glaring daggers at me,” I mumble as I watch her big ass husband hand the keys to the valet and jog up after her.
“Careful,” he grumbles and takes her hand.
“I’m fine, Honey Bear, and MJ, Uncle Uzzi invited us all to stay and shmooze, so you know we’re here for you.”
“Yeah right. You’re here for the gossip, the view, and the snacks,” I mutter.
“And to cockblock anyone who’s ever broken your heart,” she agrees.
“Same,” Dina chirps, blowing a kiss at her Wolf Shifter mate who had to meet us here since he was out on a gig. Doug is a private eye with a penchant for trouble, so I don’t doubt she is using this opportunity to have a nice evening out with her guy.
Lucky beyotch.
“Except I’m also here to have a hot date with my man. Preferably one that lasts in a sweaty tangle of limbs!”
“Oh, that is enough from you two,” I moan and fake gag—only it’s not really pretend.
I roll my eyes, adjusting my dress—burgundy satin, off-the-shoulder, totally not meant to be worn by someone trying to avoid attention.
Curse Uncle Uzzi and his meddling magical wardrobe delivery .
The historic mansion is lit up like a Hallmark movie threw up on it—twinkling lights, and cascades of florals arranged in stunning displays.
Inside there are floating candles, tables with enchanted place cards that rearrange themselves for optimal matchmaking, and waitstaff serving drinks and munchies.
The Hudson sparkles behind massive glass windows.
The air is charmed to smell like cinnamon, apples, and the first kiss of autumn— whatever the hell that means.
I should feel magical.
I should feel excited.
But mostly, I feel tense.
Because he might be here.
And I promised myself— promised —I wouldn’t even look at Carter Leone tonight.
I’m here for me. For my happily ever after.
“Okay, MJ,” Carina says, linking her arm through mine. “Deep breath. Just remember your goals.”
“Right,” I murmur. “No Liony louses. No regrets. No letting my hormones win.”
We cross the ballroom just as Uncle Uzzi floats by in a purple velvet tux with gold constellation embroidery.
“Liebchen! My stunner of a Pizza Queen! Look at you—brighter than the Harvest Moon and ten times as luscious!”
I snort. “Thank you, Uncle Uzzi. Look, if this is some kind of setup, I swear?—”
“Would I ever interfere with fate?” he gasps, hand to chest. “Just enjoy the evening! Mingle! Munch! Maybe even mate?—”
“UNCLE UZZI!”
“Just mingling! I said mingling!” he singsongs, disappearing into the crowd.
I head for the refreshment table to calm my nerves with a mini spanakopita and— bam.
I feel it.
Him.
Heat licks up my spine.
My stomach flips.
My skin prickles like my body is a divining rod and he's the water source.
I turn slowly.
And there he is.
Carter.
In a tux .
Looking like some forbidden snack from a luxury Shifter-only chocolate ad.
Tall, broad-shouldered, dark curls slicked back, a gold watch peeking out of his sleeve, and that grumpy alpha scowl turned up to eleven.
“Holy shit,” Dina breathes beside me.
“Don’t say it,” I mutter.
“Girl, if you don’t lick that man’s jawline, someone will.”
“Stop it. We’re ignoring him, remember?”
“Right, right.” Pause. “But just real quick— do you think he waxes or trims ?”
I turn around before I can answer.
Or combust.
But it’s too late.
He’s spotted me.
Carter strides across the floor like he owns it— shoulders rolling, nostrils flaring, gold eyes locked on me like I’m the only damn thing worth seeing.
But if that were the truth, I wouldn’t be in this predicament, would I?
Dressed to the nines at a magical party with dozens of too beautiful men and women—I mean holy cow, supernaturals are just in a class of their own.
I feel dowdy. Chubby. Decidedly unattractive by comparison.
And if it wasn’t for the occasional guy giving me a once over and the odd sniff here and there, I’d have run right out the door.
I’m angry now because Date to Mate was supposed to help me avoid this kind of thing. This kind of public spectacle that could so easily turn into rejection.
Carter was supposed to be my it, but he rejected me before he even said hello. So why is he here now? Why hasn’t he unmatched us on the app?
Damn it.
Damn him .
And maybe me too.
“MJ,” he says, voice low and rough and intimate in a way that makes my thighs clench.
“Carter.” I keep my tone cool. “Surprised you’re here. I didn’t think this was your bag.”
“I’m not here for the mixer.”
“No?”
“I’m here for you.”
Cue my ovaries detonating like confetti bombs.
“That’s rich,” I say, tilting my head. “You finally log in after days of silence, send one half-assed message, and now what? I’m supposed to swoon? ”
He smiles, slow and wolfish. Or is that cattish?
“You don’t swoon, do you, Kitten? You glare. You lecture. You tell me off with pink cheeks and flashing eyes and then walk away like you didn’t just set my whole body on fire.”
I blink.
Dina wheezes behind me.
Carina fans herself.
“Well, the thing is, I’m not interested in half measures, Carter,” I say, clutching my clutch a little tighter. “You already said you don’t want a mate.”
“I don’t,” he says, stepping closer, eyes dragging down my dress like it’s edible. “But I want you. And I’m not walking away again.”
My heart stutters.
My body hums.
He’s too much.
Too big.
Too honest.
Too everything I don’t trust right now.
“I’m sorry. I can’t do this. I need someone who’s all in,” I whisper.
“Then let me earn it.”
God, that voice.
But no. Not tonight.
I straighten my spine, pop another mini pastry in my mouth, and raise my brows.
“I’m here to explore my options, Carter. So maybe don’t wait up.”
He opens his mouth, but I turn before I can hear whatever reckless, sexy promise is about to come out.
I walk into the crowd, my heels clicking, my curls bouncing, and my chest tight.
Because, yeah, I want him.
But I want forever.
Not a few hours. Not one night. I want the fairytale.
And if he can’t give me that?
Then, I need to keep walking.
Even if every instinct screams to turn back.