Page 78 of Moms of Mayhem
He was never going to show up for me the way I deserved. And that wasn’t my failure—it was his.
I pulled the covers tighter around my shoulders and stared at the ceiling, the faint morning light filtering through the curtains. It felt strange not to hear the soft thump of Jace’s feet on the stairs or the blender whirring up a morning shake. The silence was bittersweet. Peaceful, but empty.
And yet… not entirely.
Because for the first time in a long time, I didn’t feel hollow. I didn’t feel like I was just going through the motions. Beckett had a lot to do with that.
And that kiss… God. It wasn’t just good. It was a shift, like the ground had tilted a few degrees, and suddenly, I could see a whole new horizon.
I pressed my phone to my chest and let out a long sigh.
Maybe it was reckless to let myself hope for something. But wasn’t that what New Year’s Eve was for?
A clean slate.
A fresh start.
A little bit of magic if you were brave enough to believe in it.
Tonight, I was going to wear something that made me feel good. I was going to put on lipstick and laugh too loud and drink something bubbly. And if Beckett looked at me like he did last night?
I wasn’t going to talk myself out of it this time. I’d spent enough years playing small. Playing safe.
This year, I wanted more.
23
The Lantern hit me with a wall of sound the second we stepped inside—guitars, stomping boots, and a chorus of voices singing along to Alan Jackson like it was the national anthem. Neon signs buzzed overhead, casting everything in a haze of electric blue and red. The floor stuck just enough to remind me this place had history—years of dancing, drinking, and bad decisions sealed into the wood.
Ty clapped me on the back, his mustache twitching with a withheld grin. He’d traded his normal T-shirt for pearl snap button down that fit his whole rugged Mountain Man thing he had going on. “Cute little cowboy getup you’ve got there.”
I tugged the brim of my hat lower, half to hide my grin, half to feel like less of a fraud. The cowboy hat in question hadn’t seen daylight since a wedding a few years ago, but after Emmy’s badgering, I had to go all-in.
The place was packed, bodies swaying and stomping in perfect rhythm, boots sliding and spinning across the room. The dance floor stretched wide, couples two-stepping likethey’d been born with boots on. Light caught on the rhinestones of some woman’s jeans as she spun, and for a second, I just took it all in. The whole room vibrated with life.
My gaze skirted over familiar faces from a lifetime ago, scanning the crowd for Emmy.
I’d been riding a high since that kiss in her kitchen last night, couldn’t stop replaying it. The way she’d looked up at me with that mix of surprise and heat. The way her fingers curled in my shirt like she didn’t want to let go.
She was coming with Stevie and Shannon tonight, both of whom had surprised the hell out of me last night.
“She’s not here yet.” Ty grabbed my shoulder and steered me toward a high-top along the edge of the room. “And I’ve been instructed to make you sit.”
I chuckled, but took the stool he offered, glad to take some of the pressure off my hip. I was feeling better, but the night was young, and this was New Years Eve. I needed to last. “Who?”
Ty shook his head, then walked toward the bar. Several people stopped to say hi, asking after my mom or my healing, but tonight it felt less invasive and more genuine interest and concern.
The song ended and a line dance formed to Brooks & Dunn, everyone gathering in neat rows. I leaned against the high-top, letting my eyes sweep across the dance floor. There was something hypnotic about it—boots stomping, hips swinging, arms slicing through the air in perfect sync. It wasn’t fancy, but it was tight, controlled chaos, not all that different from the way we moved in practiced patterns on the ice.
I didn’t dance. Not well, anyway. But watching it nowmade me itch to try. I chalked it up to anticipation, the buzz of knowing she’d be here any second.
Movement near the door caught my attention, and the crowd shifted like a spotlight shining right on Emmy.
Jesus, that green dress clung to her like a secret, short enough to show off toned legs that should’ve been illegal, and long-sleeved with a deep V that made my mouth go dry. Her brown hair curled in soft waves that brushed her shoulders, bouncing a little as she laughed at something Shannon said. Worn leather boots hugged her calves just right, making me want to do something reckless, like cross the dance floor and kiss her in front of half the damn town.
Stevie didn’t give her the chance to get her bearings. She grabbed Emmy’s hand and dragged her straight onto the dance floor. Emmy stumbled into the line of dancers, wide-eyed and already laughing, like she knew she was in over her head but wasn’t about to back down.
Ty set a glass of water in front of me, taking a long swig of his beer, but I couldn’t look away from where Emmy stood under the disco ball in the middle of the dance floor.
