Page 120 of Chaos

I briefly glance over my shoulder, huffing when a familiar head abruptly faces forward. “He’s all yours.”

Cass sighs dramatically, tutting disappointedly. “Unfortunately, I think he’s partial to angry redheads in skimpy bridesmaids dresses.” As we reach the end of our journey, ducking out of the heated tent and into the cooling temperatures that make me wonder why the fuck Luna chose a winter wedding, he kisses the back of my hand while letting his gaze roam the length of me. “You look beautiful, by the way.”

“I know.”

Cass laughs loudly, his touch drifting to the middle of my bare back—a touch I’m sure he only dares because my brother has momentarily disappeared with his bride to celebrate their nuptials in ways I’d rather not think about. My escort, it seems, has celebratory plans of his own.

The moment Cass tilts me in the direction of the second tent only a stone’s throw away that already bustles with life and reeks of merriment, I slip out of his grip. He turns to me, brows raised, face slapped with false offense. “You don’t wanna get a drink with me, honey?”

Huh. Surprising. I kind of figured Jackson told his friends about my little problem the second he found out I was in rehab. “I’m good. I’m gonna go find my sisters.”

With a shrug, Cass walks away, quickly melting into the crowd of people also seeking a drink as the ceremony quickly rolls into the reception. Not as many people as I expected, though. No one from town, actually, except for the girl who works at the local florist—who, I find as I slip inside the tent and keep far, far away from the bar nestled in one corner, my twin seems to be doing an exceptionally terrible job at not staring at.

Grace jolts as I prop my chin on her shoulder. Oh-so-subtly, she angles the glass in her hand behind her back—like that would stop me from snatching her champagne if I really wanted it.

Which I do.

But I’m not thinking about that.

Instead, I’m going to ease a different, meaner addiction by mocking my sister. “You should ask her to dance.”

A nervous laugh escapes pink, glossy lips. “What’re you talking about?”

Oh, how the tables turn.“Nova, dummy. Dance with her.”

Grace shifts, rolling her shoulders back and effectively rolling me off of her. “Why would I do that?”

“Because the stench of your desperation is giving me a headache.”

Eliza splutters as she arrives just in time to catch the tail end of that sentence, choking on her own tall glass of not-water. “What are we talking about?”

I bluntly fill in the blanks. “Our sister’s a coward.”

“No one’s even dancing!”

“Excuses, excuses,” I tease, but I’m right.

Itisan excuse. As the night drags on, as the happy couple reappears and shares their first dance, as Eliza then gets swept up in our brother’s arms and Lux is poached by Cass and Luna embraces her mother and pretty much everyone pairs off, my twin doesn’t budge.

Neither do I. I don’t have anywhere else to be—I certainly don’t have anyone to freaking waltz with—and I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else other than at Grace’s side, huffing and puffing and hopefully pissing her off enough to spur her into action.

Eventually, it works.

Eventually, she downs her drink and grunts oh-so-romantically, “Fine. I’ll ask.”

I steal her empty glass and sweep an arm towards the dancefloor. “Great.”

“If.”

Oh, God.

With a smirk curling her mouth and her brows crooked smugly, I don’t think my twin has ever looked more like me. “You dance with Finn.”

I’m not going to lie; I panic a little. My heart pounds an erratic beat and my spine locks and my palms get kind of sweaty, but still, I narrow my eyes. Because I know exactly what Grace is doing. Her sneaky ass thinks that I’ll refuse, point-blank, zero room for argument. She’s thinking that there’s no way I’ll agree,that my pride and my stubbornness simply won’t allow it. She’s thinking she’s going to get off scot-free, that she can blamemefor her missed opportunity.

Which is exactly why I shrug nonchalantly despite feeling real fucking chalant. “Okay.”

Her face drops. “Seriously?”

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