Page 94 of Wicked Serve

“No. It’s not.”

We breathe in tandem for a few shiver-filled minutes. She slips into my lap and gives me a proper kiss. Comfort. Reassurance. A signal to come back to the present, with her. I should take her to the house, get her warmed up, but I don’t know if I could face seeing any of her family right now. I kiss her hard enough our teeth clash, feeling something wild take flight in my chest.

I haven’t shared my future with her—not yet, even though I know I need to sooner rather than later—but now she knows my past.

“No,” I agree, my breath against her ear making her shiver anew. “It’s not.”

Chapter 46

Izzy

“Do you really want to go?” I finish my mascara, wiping the corners of my eyes delicately. Nikolai sits at the foot of my bed, lacing his boots. “If you want to stay home, I can, too.”

He shakes his head as he stands, adjusting the sleeves of his black pullover. “No, it’s okay. It’ll be nice.”

“I’m sure everyone else is hungover.” I snort, tossing my makeup back in its bag. “We’ll be talking to the wall.”

The New Year’s Eve karaoke was still going strong by the time Nik and I got back from the beach. We snuck upstairs with glasses of champagne and spent the rest of the night ensconced in my room. I fiddle with my new bracelet as I look at him, trying not to full-on stare. I’m grateful that he chose to share his past with me last night, but it was heavier than I could have imagined.

He didn’t deserve a childhood like that. Not at all. The mere thought of it is enough to set me on edge, but I know he needs normalcy right now, not more anger. And if normalcy looks like brunch with my siblings, then all the better.

“I’m dying for some coffee,” he says, kissing my cheek. His hand lingers on my waist as he takes in my outfit. “You look beautiful.”

I tuck my hair behind my ears. I’m just wearing jeans and a chunky sweater, but it’s nice to hear the compliment anyway. “You’ll love this diner. It was my favorite, growing up. I can’t even tell you how many times I’ve been.”

“Let me guess, they make a good pancake.”

“Thin, crispy edges, and they take up the whole plate. So good.” I snag my purse. Hopefully everyone is actually awake. When I stopped by the kitchen earlier, I only saw Sebastian, slumped over the kitchen table with a half-drunk mug of coffee. I asked him how much they drank last night, and his answer was totally incoherent. “Let me guess, you’re looking forward to plain scrambled eggs and rye toast.”

“What’s wrong with rye toast?”

“Everything,” I mutter, peering into the foyer.

Behind me, Nik barks a laugh. Sebastian waves from his spot next to the front door.

“Where’s everyone?” I ask.

He checks his watch. “Bex doesn’t want to come, but the others should be down in a second. Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Nik says smoothly, wrapping an arm around my middle and tugging me to his chest. He kisses my hair. “I wanted Isabelle all to myself last night. Sorry.”

Before Sebastian can reply, Mia stomps down the stairs, in the middle of putting her hair into a topknot. “I knocked on Cooper’s door six times. Either they’re asleep or they’re fucking, and I don’t care which, but they’re not going to get between me and my mimosa.”

Two hours later, I nestle against Nik’s side, half-drunk mimosa in hand. The six of us—Cooper and Penny eventually emerged from his room, mostly conscious—are squished in Shed House’s corner booth with nothing but crumbs left on our plates. I happy-danced through every bite of my chocolate chip pancakes, and Nik even ordered eggs Benedict instead of his usual boring breakfast. I don’t miss my hometown when I’m at McKee—Moorbridge is pretty enough to make up for it—but whenever I come here, I’m reminded of good memories. We ate here as a family the morning Dad announced his retirement from football. Victoria got the server to add a scoop of ice cream to my pancakes after my breakup with Chance. My school volleyball team stormed in monthly for milkshakes and fries.

Nik traces a finger along the seam of my jeans as he steals a sip of my mimosa.

“What happened next?” he asks. “With the game?”

Cooper, energized by coffee and booze, has taken it upon himself to share some of my greatest hits from childhood, and since he hasn’t told Nik about how I got my first period in the pool or the time he and Sebastian caught me kissing my Shawn Mendes poster, I’ve let it slide. I raise an eyebrow, waiting for him to finish. This one is pretty epic.

“So then,” he says dramatically, “she spots James with the ball and leaps for him. Barefoot, tutu and all. Sacks him right to the ground.”

“No way,” Nik says, eyes widening. He turns to me. “How old were you again?”

I finish off the mimosa with a grin. “Six.”

“Which made him...”

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