Page 69 of Miss Understood

“We can figure that out later,” I tell her.

Her face pinches. She knows as well as I do that I’m avoiding this conversation.

But I’m not ready to face the fact that she technically still has her own apartment. That our lives are separate all but physically. We’re sitting on the periphery of being something more, and even if I need to hear them too, I can’t find the words to comfort her.

Instead, I kiss her again. A long, slow kiss that borders on inappropriate for this particular crowd, so we cut if off before I’d like to.

Luce lays her head against my chest, and a surge of panic wells up inside me.Is this the kind of feeling that makes people think it’s forever?Because I know better than that, and it’s only a matter of time before she figures it out.

I’m about to grip her tighter and try to hold together the last pieces of me that are falling apart when the music shifts and she pulls away with a smile. She might still be holding my hand, but our bodies feel miles apart. With a final tug, her fingers slip away, and she’s swallowed up by a group of her friends, leaving me holding nothing.

For the first time in my life, I’m truly scared.

25

Luce

“Youreadyforthis?”Jesse asks.

My eyes dart down the hall, to where Valentina is surrounded by her flock. Someone is doing her hair in the hallway like she’s about to star in a movie, when in reality she’s about to go to court against her ex-husband. The woman is extra in every way.

Serena has joined her, and they cling to each other’s hands for support. Jesse might not like that his sister is here to testify, but watching Valentina and Serena, their fingers laced and their faces beaming in confidence, I know it was the right call.

“I’m always ready,” I tell Jesse.

I close my eyes and embrace the feeling in my chest. Riding that moment before I walk into the courtroom, because there’s no high quite like it. Butterflies flap away with my nerves, but it doesn’t stop me from knowing I’ll win.

I might suck at relationships. I might be a little too work-obsessed and opinionated. But this—the courtroom—this is my playground, and I’m ready to let loose.

Jesse places his fingers on the small of my back, and it catches me off guard, so I pull away.

“Sorry,” I say, noticing the shift in his expression. “Just, not here, okay?”

He nods, but something in me feels like it went slightly off balance. Even if things with Jesse behind closed doors are going better than I ever would have anticipated, I can’t help but carry around some uncertainty in work settings. The rest of the world might think we’re married, but it hasn’t stopped their judgment. I notice the sideways glances after we’ve had a closed-door meeting or spent any time one-on-one.

Even if I toe that careful line between what I allow inside and outside of work, there’s whispering.

The courthouse doors peel open, and Troy walks in with his team close behind. Tony Marchetto is not long after, wearing a sharp suit and sunglasses. He pulls them down and skims his gaze over Valentina’s body before following his attorneys into the courtroom with a dirty smirk.

Game on.

His overzealous attitude is exactly the kind of fire I need right now. A case to win and make up for defending the Shepard Hartfords of the world.

One sleazy look from Tony, and I’m reminded that this is my payback.

Jesse walks over to Valentina and Serena to go over the last-minute details, while I run through the case a final time in my head. This is it, my moment to prove my shit.

“Ms. Stevens,” Troy says, sliding up beside me. “Or should I say Mrs. Davis now.”

“Stevens,” I tell him, trying not to think of all the little details Jesse and I still haven’t figured out. Last names, logistics—not that we’ve talked about whether we’re staying married or not now that we’re dating. That’s another subject in the long list of things Jesse shuts down the moment I bring them up.

“Right,” Troy says. “Well, good luck today.”

“You’re the one who is going to need it.” I look up at him, and he lets out a laugh.

“I have no doubt,” he says. “Speaking of, have you given any more thought to my offer?”

His offer.

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