Page 129 of Heroes & Hitmen
I choke, sitting up so fast it makes me dizzy. “You’re kidding.”
He shakes his head, the corners of his mouth twitching. “Nope. Ten o’clock. He’ll probably ask you to cover a bake sale or some shit, but… it’s a start, right?”
All my sarcasm evaporates. I launch myself at him, knocking him backwards onto the bed. My arms wrap around his neck so tight he has no choice to take me with him, and I bury my face in his shoulder, trying to steady the rush of emotion flooding my chest.
“Thank you,” I whisper, my voice wobbling.
It’s not just the meeting. It’s the fact that he thought of it, that he believes in me, that he built this house and this life forus. Things I don’t have the right words for.
He hugs me back, warm and solid. “You don’t have to thank me for wanting you to be happy,” he says, like it’s the simplest truth in the world.
I want to say something romantic, but words don’t feel like enough in this moment, so I just kiss him like the air between us doesn’t exist. His hands skim up my sides, taking my shirt with them, but before we can get to the good stuff, a sharp knock echoes from downstairs.
I freeze, still straddling him. “Company?” I ask, pulse kicking up.
He props himself up on his elbows, giving me a crooked grin. “My family wanted to say hi,” he says sheepishly. “I told them to wait a day, but uh… they don’t listen.”
“Of course,” I laugh, already sliding off him.
We scramble to straighten our clothes and smooth our hair, exchange one last conspiratorial glance that says we’ll be back inthis bed soon, and jog down the stairs. Ares swings the front door open, and the quiet of our brand-new house is instantly swallowed whole.
The Raines’ arrive like a storm of warmth and noise with boots thumping on hardwood, voices overlapping, and arms outstretched. His parents, his siblings, and their mates all tumble inside in a tangle of hugs, shouts, and laughter.
They engulf Ares first, and then me, one after another. And even though I’ve met them all before, this feels different. I’m not the city-girl mate dropping in for a long weekend; I’m here to stay. This ismyfront door they’re crowding,myhome they’re filling with their energy. It’s… surreal.
Ares’ sister Andie barrels into me with a hug so fierce my ribs creak. “Welcome home, sis!” she squeals in my ear, rocking us both side to side.
Over her shoulder, Nash grins like he’s in on some private joke. “I see he didn’t scare you off yet,” he remarks.
“Not yet,” I shoot back, grinning.
Ares’ mom Serena pulls me in for a warm, lingering hug, and his dad Reid follows, big hands patting my back in a gesture that’s more reassuring than words. Archer claps me on the shoulder in a brotherly way, while his mate Meredith squeezes my hand like we’re sealing some unspoken pact.
Eventually, we all migrate toward the living room. It takes a few minutes– the Raines’ are incapable of moving from one space to another with stopping to talk– but we end up scattered across the plush chairs and couches, the air humming with overlapping conversations and laughter bouncing off the tall ceilings. Someone asks about the move, someone else asks about the drive, and for once, I’m not self-conscious about taking up space in the middle of their chaos.
I’m still processing all the noise and warmth of my new family when there’s another knock at the door. I turn to Ares, arching a brow.
“Expecting someone else?” I ask.
He hesitates, then tilts his head toward the door with a strange, unreadable look. “I think this one’s for you,” he says cryptically, the words hanging between us like a dare.
The room falls into a low hush as I slip off the couch. Every step toward the door feels like moving through deep water, and throughthe frosted glass, I make out a tall, lean silhouette– familiar enough to make my stomach drop, startling enough to prick my nerves.
My fingers tremble as I reach for the door handle, the cold metal grounding me for a moment before I pull it open.
Jordan’s standing on the other side. Her hair’s shorter now, framing an achingly familiar face lined with quiet strength. Her eyes, rimmed red, meet mine instantly, shining with something fierce beneath the rawness.
For a long heartbeat, neither of us moves.
Then, as if gravity pulls me forward, I leap outside and fling myself into her arms.
Her hug is fierce and almost too tight, like the thought of letting go would shatter us both. I feel her trembling against me, and my own breath catches, tears springing to my eyes.
“How–” I begin as I pull back, but she cuts me off before I can ask.
“Ares. He told Archer that if I showed up, to take me in, no questions asked.”
I glance back inside toward my mate, who’s watching us with a small, private smile. I want to smack him for not telling me, but mostly, I want to cry. Because she’shere. Mysister.
