Under My Skin (Stark International Trilogy 3)

As soon as the details are worked out, I end the call and look back at Jackson. “Do you want to meet us later?”

His mouth curves up. “I thought this was the no-significant-others gathering. Cass without Siobhan. You without me.”

“Maybe I don’t like you without me.”

The corners of his eyes crinkle with his smile. “Maybe that’s good to know.”

“Jackson,” I blurt. “Are we okay?”

He steps forward so that he can press his hands to my shoulders, then kisses me tenderly. I close my eyes, relishing the connection, the heat that inevitably comes merely from his proximity. I have come to depend on this sizzle. This spark of awareness. But today, when it all feels slightly off, I cannot help but fear what will happen if that flame is ever extinguished.

“Of course we are,” he says, and I wait for relief to flood me.

It doesn’t, though. Because the truth is, I’m not quite sure that I believe him.

twelve

I hesitate on the sidewalk outside Gemini Rising, one of the trendy bars that are forever opening and then usually folding in and around Santa Monica. This one is owned by twins, one of whom Cass dated almost a decade ago, and she assures me that the atmosphere is great—as in you can actually have a conversation—and that both the food and the drinks border on orgasmic.

Which, of course, is why she chose this place.

The thing is, even though I’ve been looking forward to drinks with my best friend and my brother, now I’m not so sure I’m in the mood for conversation. I’m too busy pretending like my entire world isn’t teetering on the brink of complete and total disaster.

In other words, I’m a mess. And while an evening out is probably a great idea, I really don’t want to dump all my problems on Ethan and Cass. But I have a feeling that once I’ve gotten some wine into me, that’s exactly what’s going to happen.

With a sigh, I grab hold of the door handle and give it a tug, the motion fueled by a mental shrug. After all, that’s what friends are for, right?

The lighting inside is dim, and it takes a moment for my eyes to adjust. I finally find them at a table all the way in the back, and as I head over there, I have to agree with Cass’s assessment—the place is funky and fun, but not so loud you can’t come to catch up with friends.

A circular bar is the centerpiece of the room, and as I walk past it, I hear the familiar sounds of flirting, pickups, and the hum of new relationships. The sound is bittersweet, because a week ago, I would have walked smugly past the bar, secure in the knowledge that I was with the only man I ever truly wanted—and certain that he wanted me right back.

Tonight, though, I’m weighed down by the fear that I am going to lose him.

I force the thought away, then school my features into a happy smile of greeting when I see them at a back booth.

Cass is dressed simply in jeans and a fitted white T-shirt with some graphic on it that I can’t see from this angle. Even casual, she looks awesome. The shirt covers her shoulder, but there’s no ignoring the vibrant colors of the tattooed tail feathers that trail down her arm. Her hair is raven black with streaks of blue, and she wears no jewelry that I can see—with the exception of the occasional glitter from the diamond stud in her nose.

My brother looks equally amazing. And if he wasn’t my brother, I’d go so far as to say he looks hot. He’s also in jeans and he’s wearing a light cotton button-down that he’s left untucked. He has a casual I-don’t-give-a-fuck air that goes with his slightly mussed hair. He almost looks like a beach bum, but his bearing suggests otherwise. Yeah, sister or no, I’ll say that he looks hot. And if the women in the bar shooting him interested glances are any indication, I’m not the only one who thinks so.

He and Cass sit opposite each other at a booth, and they’re deep in conversation as I arrive.

“Hey,” I call as I get closer. “Sorry I’m a little late.”

Cass looks at me, then frowns. “Are you okay? Other than the obvious, I mean. I’ve seen all the social media bullshit.” She must decide it’s too intense a question to start out with, though, because before I have time to even think how to answer that, she looks at my brother. “The bloom must be fading. I don’t think she got laid this morning.”

Ethan actually chokes on his drink, and I laugh. A genuine laugh, which reminds me why I love Cass.

“Actually,” I say, as I scoot into the booth beside Cass. “You’re right.” I grin wickedly. “But last night was exceptional.”

“No, no, no, no, no,” my brother says, his interruption so on cue that Cass and I look at each other and grin. “Do not even go there, or I will have to start running down the list of women I’ve met in Orange County. Laguna Beach is a happy hunting ground, I kid you not.”