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“Etta, baby, come downstairs,” Oz calls. I’m not sure if he heard me moving or if he just assumed I’d have enough time to not look so well-fucked.
Sucking in a deep breath, I tentatively inch forward to the top of the stairs, wishing I could strut confidently down them without falling to my death or looking like an idiot. Instead, I wrap my fingers around the rail and carefully descend, keeping my gaze on my feet to make sure I don’t fall.
“Little One, you remember Danny?” Oz says, beckoning me forward with a curl of his fingers.
“Oh, er, yes. Hi Danny.”
“Mrs. Malik,” Danny says with a mischievous smirk.
“Who told you?” Oz groans, pulling me into him the moment I’m close enough.
“The question is, why the fuck do Nero, Knight, and Anders know you got married before you even mentioned it to me?” He’s trying to sound nonchalant, but there’s annoyance and a hint of hurt that he can’t quite hide behind his upbeat voice.
“Does it make you feel any better to know that two of those knew about the wedding before I did?” I ask quietly.
Danny’s gaze drops to me, and a soft smile spreads across his thick, plump lips. “Actually, it does. So, you really got married, huh?”
“She’s all mine,” Oz growls, wrapping his hand possessively around the back of my neck.
“Then I guess congratulations are in order,” Danny says.
“Would you like to join us for dinner?” I ask meekly, glancing up at Oz and hoping I haven’t said the wrong thing.
“I’d love that,” Danny says, flashing a smug grin in Oz’s direction before he dips his chin and smiles warmly down at me. “So, Etta, tell me what Oz was like as an angry, brooding teenager,” Danny says, reaching for my hand and tugging me away from Oz’s hold. “Bro, grab us some beers.”
I’m surprised when Oz allows Danny to steer me over to the couch, pulling me to sit down beside him.
“Oh, well, he didn’t like me much,” I admit, heat warming my cheeks.
“So I heard. Did you hate him as much as he hated you?”
Sighing, I struggle to answer. “I’m not sure I’ve ever really hated anyone. But…” I trail off, because what do I say? Do I tell him the truth, that Oz tormented and bullied me, or do I lie and pretend that we were friends? “He wasn’t the nicest person in the world to me,” I finally say, settling on a toned-down version of the truth.
“She’s being nice. I fucking tortured her,” Oz snaps, picking me up from the couch and sitting back down with me in his lap. “She hasn’t told me everything that I did, but from what she has said, I’m the luckiest man in the fucking world that she’s even willing to sit in the same room as me.”
“Bro,” Danny hisses, taking the bottle of beer Oz holds out to him, before he flashes me a sympathetic look. “What did you do?”
“Destroyed her stuff, made her cry, turned all of her friends against her, oh, and caused her to be so scared of flying she’d rather take a twenty-six-hour bus ride than set foot on an airplane.”
“And you still married him?” Danny asks me, his expression half incredulity, half amusement.
“I’d had a couple of cocktails,” I admit with a shrug.
I feel Oz’s laughter before I hear it, and soon Danny joins in, the sound rumbling around the room and filling the half-empty space.
“I think imbibing too many piña coladas can be cited as a reasonable cause for an annulment,” Danny says, winking playfully at me.
“Too fucking late for that, she’s mine, wearing my ring, using my name, bred with my kid,” Oz growls, each word terse and angry.
“You’re pregnant? Already?” Danny blurts.
“No,” I say quickly. “I’m not pregnant.”
“I’m working on it,” Oz says, ignoring my denial.
“Well, I better be the first fucking person you tell about the baby, seeing as my invitation to the wedding got lost in the post.”
“Don’t worry, bro, we’ll be having a do-over in the summer, you’ll get a VIP invite to that one.”
