Page 97 of Kings of Sherwood

“Perfect. Better than good. Just...come with me.” He smiles. I look at Zayn and Nick, who shrug, and submit to being led out of the ballroom and down the hall on Tuck’s arm. As we depart, I throw a glance over my shoulder.

“You don’t think...” I catch one last glimpse of the two of them, Zayn leaning in to say something in Nick’s ear. “Never mind.”

“I don’t think what?” Tuck says, craning his neck slightly as we sweep out into the small patio before the parking lot.

“Zayn,” I say. “And Nick. Is that...am I nuts?” I tip my head. “Is there something there?”

“Ohhh.” Tuck blinks. “You know...no, I don’t think you are.”

“Really?” I say. “Because I don’t even know if Nick—”

“I do,” Tuck cuts in. “Let’s just say I had to give him a quick lesson about, um,clearing his browser historyafter he gave me that laptop back. Not that I judge,” he hastens to add. “But, um. Yeah. He swings that way.”

“No kidding,” I say. “Who’d have thought. You think he’s up for the life of a political spouse?”

But Tuck doesn’t have a chance to answer, because the air rips alive with the sound of a motor revving, and a sleek, fast,somethingzips to a stop half a foot in front of us.

I open my mouth, shut it. Look at Tuck. “Is that...”

He beams. “Surpri—”

“Surprise!” Rob hollers, flinging open the driver’s door and spreading his arms wide, looking as playful and mischievous as his tux is sharp and all-business.

“Maren.” He bows, indicating the car. “For you.”

I am...stunned. It’s not just a car. It’s a sports car, the same deep green color of the forest at twilight and with a familiar emblem on the grill—

“A Mustang?” I press a hand to my mouth. “You didn’t—”

“We did.” Will pops up from the passenger side, straightening the white lapels of his own jacket. “We very much did.”

LJ, dark-eyed and tight-faced, hands in his pockets like he loathes whoever invented men’s formalwear, joins us from around the corner. “Happy birthday, Maren.”

My birthday.

I let out a laugh. Somehow, in the complete and utter fucking chaos of the last weeks, months of my life,somehowI managed to lose sight of the day that for most of my life was all I could think about. All I had to look forward to.

And that day has...passed.

“My birthday was a while ago,” I say. “I mean, thank you. Damn. Thank you.” I press a hand to my forehead. “I just—what am I saying?”

“She ain’t wrong, boys,” Rob says, striding over to join us. “We screwed up.”

“We were otherwise preoccupied,” LJ mutters. “Staying alive and shit.”

“It’s fine,” I say. “Really, it’s fine. I didn’t mean to—”

“Nah, Maren.” Tuck grins. “It’s your birthday. You deserve it.”

“And not just any birthday,” Will adds, swinging around to Tuck’s other side. “Your twenty-first, eh? So in addition to buying you your first-everalcoholic beverage, we thought we’d buy you a 2019 Ford Mustang Bullitt inbeautifulHighland Green. An homage to the classic ‘68, the 2019 model maintains the iconic Mustang silhouette while offering a more modern—”

Something pings in the back of my mind, and I throw out a hand to cut off Will’s spiel. “Buy?” I spin to face them. “As in, legally?”

“You’ll be happy to hear that she is clean as a whistle,” Rob says. “Picked her up at the dealer myself. Nice little father-daughter outfit outside of Chevy Chase.”

I bite my lip to keep from grinning too hard, and Rob ducks his head. “Thought you’d appreciate that.”

“You like it?” LJ says, studying me.

---