Mars just glares at me.
Rachel is dressed in a flirty Tinker Bell costume, her hair up in her usual bun. Sanny stands with his arm around her dressed as Peter Pan. Jake is living it up in a ridiculous Captain Hook costume, complete with shiny hook. Even the dog is here. Poseidon darts past in a crocodile costume, chasing after Sully’s dog.
“You must really love them,” I tease Mars, feasting my eyes on this vision of him in that stupid hat.
“Something like that.”
We stand there, watching the other party guests laugh and chat. He was so cool this morning, taking the card and quietly reading it while I held the kitten. He didn’t ask any questions, just handed me the card and walked off.
“So…are you gonna ask me about it?” I say, taking a sip of my beer.
“Ask you about what?”
I huff, turning to face him. “You know what, man. You can ask if you want,” I offer. “I trust you to know. You won’t say anything.”
Weirdly, I almost want him to ask. More than that, I want to tell him. I want to trust him. I know I’ll feel better letting someone in on this secret with me. It’s such a heavy fucking burden to bear. I do my best in the day to day, but sometimes I’m tired, sometimes I slip up, sometimes I get dragged into filming pet adoption promo spots.
On all my past teams, I had someone who knew, someone who could help me out. Everything has been so crazy since joining the Rays that I haven’t really settled into a groove yet. Aside from management like Vicki, I haven’t felt ready to trust any of the guys and open up.
Mars glances my way, brows narrowed. “Does anyone on the team know?”
I shake my head, taking another swig of this crappy IPA.
“Why not?”
“I figured you of all people would get it,” I reply. “We don’t all want our private lives out in the open.”
“But you want me to know,” he intuits. “You want someone to confide in.”
Slowly, I nod. “Yeah, I think I do.”
“And Tess? Does she know?”
My heart drops out at the very idea. “Hell no. No way.”
He sighs. “Don’t be childish, Langley.”
I bristle. “Childish?”
“I’m not blind. I see how badly you want her. If you mean to keep her, you must tell her all your truths, even the difficult ones—especially the difficult ones.”
We’re saved the awkwardness of a deeper conversation when Tess herself comes sweeping around the corner. She’s walking arm-in-arm with Shelby. Since when did these two become friends? She throws her head back, laughing at something Shelby says.
My heart fucking stops. I can’t breathe. Can’t move. My Tess is dressed like a sexy devil, with a red leather skirt, fishnet stockings, and a lacy red corset that makes her breasts look immaculate. A pair of little black horns peek out the top of her auburn curls.
Forget Mars and secrets. Forget everything. Forget my own damn name. This woman is the only thing that matters.
42
“But if you really want quality karaoke chaos, you gotta get Lukas Novikov up on that stage,” Shelby says as we both crack up.
“Wait, Novikov’s the broody one with the scar on his face, right? He likes to sing?” I can’t reconcile the two images in my mind.
“At this point, I think I’ve heard him sing the entire George Michael catalog,” she replies with a solemn nod.
“No,” I cry with another laugh. “Not George Michael.”
“You haven’t lived until you hear him sing ‘Careless Whisper,’” she teases.
Before I can reply, a new voice stops me in my tracks. “Hey, sexy devil.”
All my breath leaves my body as I turn, seeking out that voice. Ryan is here. Fuck, I didn’t realize how much I missed him until now. He’s standing next to Mars, nursing a beer…and he’s dressed as Jax Teller.
Oh, holy fucking fuck.
I take him in from his mussed blond curls to those broad shoulders filling out his white T-shirt, to the ripped jeans and chunky boots. My attention settles on his black leather cut, complete with SOA patches.
“Oh my god.” I lift my gaze back to his face, taking in the apple green of his eyes and the curve of his smirk as he pins me in place with a look of open wanting.
Ryan.
Seeing him again, feeling his energy calling out to mine, a truth settles deep inside me: Ryan likes it when I laugh. From the moment we met, he’s spent all his energy trying to draw the sound from my lips. Lying in his bed late at night, pretending I’m helping him fall asleep, I’ll laugh at something he says, and he’ll brush a finger up the column of my throat, tracing the path of the sound. To him, my laugh is music. To him, my laugh is magic.