The THORN LUNA
She repeated in an annoying song.
I grunted, resting my hands on the counter by the bar, “Just enjoy the party, Lyla. He should be here soon.”
“Or maybe he's here already,” said a man, his voice so deep it rattled me—I gasped.
I turned immediately to see Jacob, donned in a neat blue tux, his hands sunk into his trousers. His red eyes lit up as he flashed a smile at me.
Nervous, I stood frozen to a spot and waved, “Hi.”
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