Page 56 of Fallacies

He pours two generous servings, and I take the one that’s the fullest, knocking it back with everyone else. It’s a soothing kind of burn compared to what’s churning through my blood—nerves, anxiety, and two different beasts with opposite desires. Fighting them off would be senseless, but the alcohol at least takes the edge off.

“Nervous, Cin?” Pax taunts, his gaze falling to my white-knuckled grip on the counter.

“No,” I lie, pushing off the counter when Hunter and Gemma head towards the door. Pax walks with me, and Devon peels off the couch as we pass, his deep hazelnut skin making the white of his undershirt pop.

“Nerves are a good thing,” Pax tells me, holding the screen door open for me. “Means your blood is pumping.”

“Blood?” Nix whips his head up from where he’s leaned casually against the porch railing. His auburn hair is spiked up, his lashes thick around his green and white eyes, and the scar cutting through his brow is somehow more menacing when paired with his black suit. When his heterochromatic eyes fall on me, I instantly want to crawl out of my skin. “Your hair looks nice.”

The compliment catches me off guard, but I manage a polite smile. “Thanks.”

Phoenix nods, then begins digging through his pockets in search of something. When he finds what he’s looking for, his face lights up.

“Here,” he enthuses, darting his hand out to give me a…rose? The petals are crumpled from being in his suit pocket, but the ruby red of the flower is undeniable.

It’s…kind of sweet.

I reach out a hesitant hand to take it, but Pax slaps my fingers away.

“Chiaros, Nix,” Pax curses, squinting at the stem of the rose. “Where’d you get a rose with thorns that sharp? Are the Floras growing these?”

Nix laughs as if it were a stupid question. “No.” He holds the rose up to the light, and oh gods, the thorns. They jut out like thumb tacks.

I’m a little embarrassed that I didn’t notice.

“I sharpened them,” he confesses with a shrug.

My eyes bulge, and Pax exhales a defeated sigh.

Trying to interpret our reactions, Nix looks genuinely confused. “You’re not supposed to sharpen them?” he asks.

We both shake our heads.

“Oh.” I kind of hate the way the light on his face dims as he puts the rose back into his jacket. Then, as if an idea has struck him, Nix quickly turns to whoever is standing at the bottom of the stairs. “Easton, did you know⁠—”

“Yes, Nix, you’re the only one in this world that would sharpen the thorns on a rose,” Easton grumbles back, both hands tucked into the pockets of his slacks. His long, shoulder-length hair is pulled back into a neat bun, and he even trimmed up his beard.

Glancing over at the setting sun, Easton turns from the cabin. “Boss.”

I trail his gaze, finding Callan farther in the yard with his back to us. His hands are propped on his hips, and he’s in a stare-off with…Selene and Kimber?

“You. Can’t. Come,” I hear him grit out.

Selene glares back at him, mimicking his tone, “Why. Not?”

Kimber’s tugging on her arm, urging her to stand down—like that’s ever worked where Selene’s involved.

They’ve both dressed up too. Kimber is in a pale yellow dress with a white ribbon tying half her hair up in a bow, and Selene is in a deep navy pantsuit, her braided hair loose around her shoulders.

Gemma moves in beside them, the shimmer in her mint green dress bringing out the blue of her wide eyes.

“Because I said so,” Callan argues back.

“Boss,” Easton calls again, and when the Captain whirls around, it takes conscious effort to keep my mouth from hanging open.

His suit is all black and perfectly snug, tight across the shoulders and tight across the thighs. The top button of his black undershirt is undone, revealing the silver chain of his medallion beneath, and my fingers itch to feel how warm it is. His dark brown hair is styled and smooth, just the right kind of messy, and even the annoyed expression he pelts Easton with suits him.

“What?” he snaps, the tension in his shoulders sliding away when his eyes meet mine.