MasukDate = 15 AugustA little later in the day.Place = San Francisco (Inferno)POV - EnriqueI touch my crotch with a groan.Abstinence from Aria is a crime against nature. Against art. Against manhood.She said we should not have sex before the wedding. She said it was symbolic. Romantic. Something ab
Alejandro shakes his head. “No.”“They’re probably squeezing in a quickie,” Jackson mutters, leaning back like this is all mildly entertaining.I shoot him a look sharp enough to draw blood. And it reminds me that I am absolutely having a conversation with him later.Alejandro lets out a strained la
“You still thinking about her?” I ask quietly.He doesn’t turn. “I don’t know what you mean,” he says.I let that sit between us. Brothers don’t need lies polished.“You went there to forget,” I say.He finishes, hands steady, movements practiced, and absentminded. He exhales slowly, tucking himself
“And look where that got us.” She points to her tummy, and he gets this stupid, proud smile on his stupid face.“Face it, angel, your man is a stud.”“As if it’s so difficult to make a bloody baby,” I grunt, trying to get past my slight nausea.“So you’re saying it’s as easy as riding a bike …” Dami
Date = 15 AugustPlace = San Francisco (Inferno)POV - EnriqueJust then, Mel wobbles up the last step, winded with a red face, with Damion holding her arm.“Sorry, we’re late,” Damion charms, “Your sister takes a while to walk up the stairs.”“She takes a while to walk, period,” Luke sneers. It ear
“You’re right,” River agrees, “but you don’t need to get married to do it. Damion and Mel are not married.”“The baby was an accident.” Luke walks forward with his usual smug, condescending smirk on his face.River rolls her eyes with theatrical flair, nudging at nothing with the toe of her pink boo
She sits opposite me, next to Jackson, legs crossed, hoodie pulled over her head like a cocoon, sticky from sweat and smoke and the horror of not having had carbs in over two hours. Her face is smudged with dirt, grime, the glitter of salt from dried tears, and whatever snack crumbs she’s snuck from
An airport security guy drifts past, slow, but with his eyes razor sharp. His gaze hooks onto us for a second too long, sharp and measuring, like he’s filing our faces into some internal blacklist before moving on.“They’re going to jail,” Enrique whisper-sighs flatly.“Only if they find a rope,” I
Enrique blinks. “When?”“When Amanda told me she was having your baby.”His jaw locks, the muscle twitching just once. The name alone is enough to chill the air between us.“She was not.”I snort out and roll my eyes.“I know that now,” I hiss, “But back then, I didn’t. I was hurt. I didn’t want to
“R-e-a-l-y?” My voice comes out like it’s been dipped in acid and sarcasm.“The girl fell hard for our broody firefighter.”“Can’t blame her — the man walks around like he invented foreplay.” It’s his turn for a jealous snort.“Yeah … they work together. Poor thing. One spark from Axel, and she comb







