Page 97 of Salvaged Hearts

“It has been insanely warm.”

“How your brother plays in this, I’ll never understand,” she said as she hooked her arm through mine, and we headed toward the spa. Only Jax’s sigh alerted me to the fact that he was out of the car, and I grinned over my shoulder. Much to my surprise, having a constant tail was probably my least favorite part of this whole arrangement. His cute, grumpy presence was like a storm cloud in the corner of every building I inhabited, no matter how briefly. Nail days were Jax’s least favorite and the moment I most looked forward to.

So. Take that, Reynolds. Maybe he’d tell Greyson things were calm enough for him to leave, finally.

The picture-perfect front desk man with pearly teeth and a freakishly wrinkle-free tan greeted us. Seriously, how does one avoid aging while also worshipping the sun?

Cucumber waters in hand, we followed him back to our usual spots with our nail techs, Nikki and Katie. Like we’d synchronized it, all four of us whipped novels out of our bags, tabbed within an inch of their lives, and passed them around to whoever hadn’t had a turn with them yet.

Greetings were exchanged, and swatches were selected. We all fell into the easy chatter of familiar company.

“You’re both attending that auction tonight, aren’t you?”

“Yep,” Miranda chirped. The woman was easy to love, even without the adorable basketball baby in her belly. Her dirty-blonde hair was pulled back into an elegant twisty bun, and the sundress she’d picked gave her this whimsical, fairy-core vibe without stepping out of approved fashion trends.

She was the breath of fresh air I hadn’t realized I desperately needed until we’d met up for brunch back in June and been attached at the hip ever since.

Community, aside from my family, has always been grueling for me. A love of soul-crushing conversation and hatred for small talk made finding people who wanted to connect a bit of a challenge in the age of surface-level Facebook ‘friends.’ Miranda was the first person who made it feel easy.

“Some art thing?” Nikki asked as she carefully filed down my old set of dip nails.

“I thought the art museum gala was in the spring,” Katie interjected.

“It was. It was so insufferably stuffy,” Miranda explained with an eye roll that had me smirking. Maybe that’s what I loved about her. She had no more love for the soirees and formalities than I did.

“Glad we missed it.”

“Heck, that was right before you and Grey finally launched your relationship to the media,” Miranda pointed out.

“It was,” I said with a laugh, hoping it was natural. Grey and I had come a long way in the last few months. If you’d told me I would end up catching feelings for my asshole boss, I would’ve asked what you were on and why you weren’t sharing. But a friendship had bloomed around a stream of strange circumstances and an endless supply of vagina-destroying orgasms. Crazy to think just a few months ago, I was sprinting towards a Hart-free life.

And now? Now, I wasn’t sure what we were or weren’t, but I couldn’t fathom a life where Greyson didn’t wake me up in the morning with Italian espresso, and that was enough to make a girl nauseous.

Per my strategy, the allegations were finally dying out, successfully overwhelmed by our strategically placed interviews, articles, and donations. Swallowing my nerves, I added, “Long overdue.”

“I still don’t know how you managed that.”

“Witchcraft,” I responded, dead serious. Her slow smile had me breaking character likeDeadpoolbreaks the fourthwall.

“If you love me, you’ll teach me how to do that. Those assholes keep speculating I’m having twins, which makes me feel like Shamu.”

“No orca in sight, just a beautiful, very healthy, adequately baby-fied mama-to-be,” I assured.

“Regardless,” she grumbled, blue eyes mesmerized by the file working over her nails. “I could use some of that. Hell, Royce didn’t even know until he got the invite to the engagement party.”

“Greyson is an unwaveringly private person.”

“Oh, I know. Speaking of, I heard he’s been working super late. Big project?”

“Oh,” I sighed. Of course. He always had a big project. This month’s had been a rather sizable merger, and then he playedBatmanat night, helping Jax strategize an op. While I understood the low-level semantics, I was nowhere near grasping the big picture. Of course, I couldn’t say any of that and just led with, “Always.”

“I know how that feels. Royce is always at the office. Even when he’s home, he’s glued to his phone unless we’re on a date night or at one of the kids’ activities. He does his best, but sometimes even those get interrupted.”

“Grey…he likes to clock off at some point, you know? Turns his phone off so he can decompress at the end of the night. Or when we’re with Mattie and Beau.”

“The secret to having staff for everything.”

“And two dogs with very limited bladder capacity,” I teased, earning a laugh.

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