Progress.
“Hey, Jade!” Leah’s voice cuts through my thoughts, and I turn to find her waving me over to the table where she and Mason are sitting now. “Come sit with us. You look like you’re about to bolt.”
“Me? Bolt? Never,” I say, rolling my eyes as I make my way toward them. But honestly, she’s not far off. This whole “socializing” thing still feels weird, especially after being an outcast for so long.
Leah’s smiling when I get there, and Mason asks, “You surviving the party?”
“Barely,” I admit with a grin. “I feel like I’m navigating a minefield.”
“Well, no one’s tried to rip your head off yet, so that’s a win,” Mason deadpans, and I can’t help but laugh.
Leah smirks. “Ignore him. He’s just grumpy because I beat him in arm wrestling earlier.”
“You didn’t beat me,” Mason shot back. “You cheated.”
Leah rolls her eyes and flicks a piece of bread at him. “If you’d stop making excuses, maybe you’d win once in a while.”
The playful banter eases some of the tension in my shoulders. It’s weird, but being here with them like this… it feels normal. Like I’m part of the group, not the odd one out. I take a deep breath and glance around the room, letting the atmosphere settle over me.
Just as I’m starting to relax, I spot them.
Damien. And a woman I don’t recognize.
She’s tall, with blond hair that’s practically shimmering under the soft lights. And she’s standing way too close to him. Her hand brushes his arm casually, and her lips curl into this soft, coy smile. Suddenly, I’m hyper-aware of how she’s leaning in, talking to him like they’re sharing some kind of inside joke.
A weird, possessive knot twists in my stomach.
“Oh, for the love of—” I grumble, unable to tear my eyes away from them.
Leah catches my tone and follows my gaze. “What’s up?” she asks, leaning back in her chair. When she spots Damien and the blonde, her eyebrows shoot up, and her grin turns wicked. “Ohhh, I see. You’re jealous.”
I snap my head around to face her. “I’m not jealous.”
Mason chuckles, clearly enjoying my discomfort.
“Uh-huh,” Leah drawls, her smirk widening. “So the death glare you’re throwing right now is what, exactly? Casual interest?”
“I’m not throwing a death glare,” I say defensively, even though I totally am. “I’m just… watching. Observing.”
“Right,” Leah says, dragging the word out with a grin. “Watching him like you’re two seconds away from clawing her eyes out.”
I groan and slump in my chair. “Okay, fine. Maybe I’m a little annoyed. But it’s not like I have a claim on him. Okay, we’re technically mated, but, I mean, we’re still figuring things out, and this whole thing is… complicated.”
Leah tilts her head thoughtfully. “Complicated? Or are you just scared of admitting you actually want him?”
I stare at her, caught off-guard by the bluntness of her words. “It’s not that simple, Leah.”
“Sure it is,” she insists. “You like him. He likes you. You’re both too stubborn to admit it. The end.”
I roll my eyes but can’t help the small smile tugging at my lips. “I don’t know. It’s just… a lot.”
Leah shrugs before tossing another piece of bread at Mason. “Well, whatever you do, don’t let that blond Barbie doll swoop in and steal him.”
“Please,” I scoff. “She’s not going to steal him.”
“Then why do you look like you’re about to march over there and rip her head off?” Mason asks, raising an eyebrow.
“I don’t look like that,” I argue weakly.