Chapter Text
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I wrap my arms tightly around myself as I climb out of the car, standing awkwardly on the sidewalk in Manhattan. When Xaden circles around to join me, he stops a few feet away, folding his arms over his chest. The look on his face is judgemental. "Stop worrying, Violence. It's just drinks."
I frown, a little indignant. "It's not just drinks, it's meeting your family," I insist. "What if they don't like me?"
He lifts a brow in amusement. "Because your family are so fond of me."
I suck my lower lip between my teeth, feeling suitably chastised. That's fair.
"Whose opinion really matters here?" he asks and there's something in his tone that has my stomach clenching. I do my best to scatter the thoughts that pop into my head immediately because now is not the time for that.
"Yours?" I murmur, knowing it's the answer he's looking for.
"Mine," he agrees, stepping forward to cup my chin in his hands. "If they don't like you, it's not going to change my mind, Violence, so stop worrying." He leans down, running his teeth gently over the shell of my ear and I gasp, gravitating toward him. "If you're good, I might reward you when we get home."
He's so bold now that I've let him have me. It's like the gloves are off and every ounce of restraint he ever had is in the rear-view. He's insatiable.
"What does being good entail?" I breathe, brow furrowing. I don't quite understand the rules to this little game yet. It's tricky, trying to find my feet in a new dynamic and I don't want to get it wrong.
"You be yourself," he says, pressing a kiss to my neck. "Don't hide because you think people won't like you."
They probably won't like me if they know anything about my family and Xaden's history, but it's too late now to back out. "How many people are going to be there?" I ask. I like to have all the important information first, so I can make informed decisions.
"Just six." He steps back, giving me a knowing look. "And two of them are Sloane and Aaric." He lifts a hand, brushing my hair back out of my eyes, tucking it carefully behind my ear. "Stop overthinking it, love. It'll be fine."
I draw a deep breath, focusing on the stretch of my lungs; the way they inflate and deflate. I can do this—I speak to, and in front of, hundreds of strangers all year long. I just have to treat this like any other day at work.
Carefully I rise up onto my toes, balancing with my hands on his shoulders. Tipping my head back, I press my mouth softly to his, savouring the unexpected breath he lets out and the way his lips remain parted in surprise.
"Ok." I step back with a tentative smile, ending the kiss before he can respond. "I'm ready."
Butterflies of a different kind explode in my chest as he takes my hand, leading me gently down the sidewalk and around the corner. My eyes widen and I stare in surprise at the establishment he leads me to, threading his fingers through mine tightly.
"You said we were going to a bar" I lift a brow.
"It is," he insists, a soft smirk on his lips. "With a little extra."
My response is uttered beneath my breath. "This seems dangerous."
The establishment he's brought me to is an axe-throwing bar. Perhaps his friends really do want me gone and they're trying to scare me off.
It's dark and moody inside, very fitting for this type of venue in my opinion, and I cling to Xaden's hand as he leads me through a crowd of people to a smaller group milling together in a corner.
Some of them I can identify immediately and the rest quickly follows. Sloane is leaning against a table, Aaric's arm thrown casually over her shoulders as they chat to a taller, well-built man with the same light blond hair and blue eyes as her—that has to be her older brother, Liam.
Beside him, seemingly bickering with each other are another couple—a tall, giant of a man and a pink-haired woman I recognise from the magazine article Sloane had sent me a few days ago—Imogen Cardulo. They must be together, I assume from their body language and the familiarity they display with each other.
Finally, sitting on a chair watching the two of them with a fond kind of exasperation on his face is a man who looks incredibly familiar. With tawny skin and deep eyes, and riot of dark curls atop his head, the man could pass for Xaden's brother. Given I know he doesn't speak to either of his half-siblings, this must be the cousin—Bodhi.
Their collective attention is drawn to us as we approach and one-by-one they run their eyes over me in appraisal. To any normal person it would seem like curiosity. To me, it feels like they're searching for weaknesses—I feel like prey.
My steps falter for a fraction of a second before I get a hold of myself, lifting my chin in defiance.
"Well, look who finally decided to join us." The tallest man speaks up and I wonder briefly if he's a personal trainer or something. He's certainly built enough to be one. His eyes slide to me. "Here I thought Xaden was going to hide you away forever."
I lift a brow. "We haven't even known each other three weeks," I shoot back. "I wouldn't exactly call that forever." A twist of the truth—those three weeks have felt like an age. This relationship might only be in its infancy, but circumstances as they are, it feels like its been brewing for months.
"Three weeks and already married," the man prods. "It really must be something."
My brows crease and I glare at him, knocked off-kilter. "Maybe it is."
"Enough, Garrick. Don't be an ass." Xaden wraps his arm around my waist possessively, tugging me into his side. "Violence, this is Garrick Tavis, my—"
"Long-suffering best friend," the man interjects, holding out a hand. Cautiously, I reach forward to take it. "Emphasis on the suffering. It's nice to meet you, Miss Sorrengail." He shakes my hand firmly.
"It's Doctor, actually." Xaden replies and I bite my tongue for a moment.
"Just Violet is fine."
I don't want his family thinking I'm arrogant. I worked hard for that title, but I don't need my friends to call me by it and that's what I'm hoping these people might become…friends. Unfortunately, I'm beginning to get the impression that they don't feel the same way.
"What are you a doctor of?" Imogen asks, her steely expression matching the tension clear in her shoulders.
"History." I attempt to smile, but it falls a little flat. "I teach at Columbia." There's no point delving further into the day-to-day of academia. I doubt they'd be interested. Most people aren't.
"She teaches some of my classes!" Sloane interjects, smiling fondly and I'm grateful for the intervention, her friendly face easing some of the tension in my chest.
"Can I call you professor?" Garrick asks provocatively and my head whips back around.
"Not in that tone of voice!" I snap, eyeing Imogen warily. I'm used to fielding innuendos and smart ass remarks like that from students, but this guy? I'm dating his best…oh. My stomach twists with realisation—am I being hazed?
"Right, you save that for Xaden."
"I save that for people with an IQ over a hundred." I smile sweetly. "So far it's not looking like you qualify."
The other man grins. "Is this why he calls you Violence? That sharp tongue of yours?"
I falter. I…don't know why he calls me that—I've never questioned it. I always figured it came about in Vegas, during the night I don't remember.
"That's none of your business." I smile sweetly.
I hold his gaze for a moment then tilt my head up, observing Xaden's guarded expression. He's not paying me an ounce of attention, too busy glaring at his friend. Garrick stares back, an equally tense smile on his lips and I realise they're having a conversation without making a sound. I silently re-categorise them as childhood friends. Jes and I can do that too, much to the consternation of the rest of our group.
I loose a breath, turning away from them. "You must be Imogen." I speak up, deciding to try and steer this conversation toward calmer waters. I look to Sloane for confirmation, who nods. "Which means you're Liam"—I glance at the blond—"and Bodhi."
The shorter man seems surprised and I shrug. "Process of elimination. You have similar features to Xaden."
"I could be a brother," he challenges.
"He doesn't talk to his brothers." And they're younger.
The air becomes charged again and I realise that isn't something they thought I would know. I shift uncomfortably on my feet, wishing I'd interrogated Xaden more. I should have asked how much he'd told them, how much they know about me and our relationship, before walking in. It turns out 'everything' isn't quite as comprehensive as I thought.
As it stands, apart from Sloane and Aaric, they're just as standoffish as my own family, which might actually be worse given the fact that they know our marriage was an accident.
Slowly, I tilt my head up, running my hand over Xaden's side. "Would you mind getting me a drink?" I ask, forcing a smile. He knows instinctually what I'm trying to do, of course, and his eyes sharpen. "Anything is fine."
His fingers encircle my wrist and he holds my gaze as he feels for my pulse, trying to gauge how unsettled I am. "Alcoholic or not?" he asks quietly.
It seems wildly unsafe to serve alcohol in a place where people are throwing around hatchets, but no one else around us is abstaining. I might need it to get through this. "Choose me a cocktail," I smile.
His hand trails over my spine as he pulls away and I mourn the loss of his warmth, but I know he won't be gone for long. I pause, watching Garrick follow two steps behind him, and only when they're definitely out of earshot do I turn back to the others.
Folding my arms over my chest, I lift my chin. "I'm not out for Xaden's money," I tell them firmly, trying not to take their clear mistrust personally. "You should know that," I nod at Bodhi, "you're the one finalising the annulment."
His brows rise. "Right…I don't think any of us are worried about that."
I loose a breath. "I'm also more than happy to stay out of his work and not make requests where the United States military is concerned, I don't care that my mother doesn't particularly like him, and I've put all my social media on private already."
The pink-haired girl visibly clenches her jaw, but Bodhi only folds his arms over his chest, watching me carefully. I can't possibly be expected to guess their grievances, can I? Beyond the obvious, that is. "If there's something else you want to interrogate me about, speak now or forever hold your peace." To my right Aaric ducks his head, hiding a smile.
Imogen snorts derisively at the pun and my heart gallops painfully in my chest, but I refuse to flinch. I grew up with Lilith Sorrengail—I'm an academic—these people are a breeze in comparison. I can handle them.
"We're not concerned about the money or Riorson Industries, Violet," Liam says, his tone almost gentle as he steps in. "We're concerned about him."
It's strange because I can see how genuine he is, how genuine they all are in their concern…but Xaden is sturdy. He's not scared like I am, or tentative, or breakable. He's strong and steadfast. I can't see what reason they have to be worried about him. He's in control.
"He convinced me to see him," I point out, unsure how much he's shared. "I said it was a bad idea, but he wanted a chance. It seems unfair of you to fault me for giving it." Xaden can look after himself.
"You can see how that might not reassure us," Bodhi says dryly, "that you had to be convinced."
My jaw tightens. "Given the circumstances, a little objectivity was required. I'd have thought a lawyer could appreciate the need for a convincing argument when things are…messy."
He pauses, his brows creeping toward his hairline. "I would rather there be no argument required when it comes to my cousin's happiness. This isn't personal, Violet," he says calmly, "we're just trying to protect him and he's making some…questionable choices."
I glance over my shoulder and catch the bartender sliding a glass of bourbon into my husband's hand.
"I understand that. It's why I bought you time to deliver your shovel talk." I smile casually. I can appreciate their loyalty to family, even if I don't particularly appreciate their reticence to my presence. "You probably have another twenty seconds if there's anything else you'd like to say?" Xaden told me to be myself. It probably says something about me that I feel the most at home when defending my position.
Imogen takes the chance, her lips twisting up in a sneer. "I don't know what he's thinking chasing after a Sorrengail of all people, but I'll be watching and if you put one foot wrong I swear I'm going to—"
"Going to what, Imogen?" Xaden asks icily and I almost slump against him, all the tension in my body easing as he presses his chest to my spine. My senses wind down one by one, my breathing slowing, and I realise belatedly I'd been taut like a bowstring.
The pink-haired girl smiles beatifically. "Give her a stern talking to," she finishes sweetly. Xaden doesn't seem to believe a word of course—I'd be surprised if he did. Even I know better and I met her five minutes ago.
"I was just letting them know their reticence is noted, but I only care for the opinion of one person in your family." I turn my head, resting my cheek on his shoulder.
He presses a glass into my hand, the liquid inside a vibrant blue, a slice of lemon wedged atop the rim. "Good girl," he murmurs by my ear, pressing a kiss to my nape and my eyes blow wide.
"Xaden!" I hiss beneath my breath, jabbing my elbow back toward his stomach as I press my denim-clad legs together. "Not the time."
I lift the brightly coloured cocktail to my lips, taking a sip to hide my reaction to his words while he chuckles. It's…fruity, but not in a Blue Hawaiian kind of way, which is great because I haven't told him but my stomach hates pineapple. "What is this?"
"Sex in the Driveway," he responds. "They had a violet-themed one, but I figured it was a little too on-the-nose."
I snort, taking a larger mouthful. "And this isn't?" I tilt my head up. He didn't get me a cocktail with a name like that by chance.
"We don't have a driveway, love."
Aaric snorts, shaking his head. "Well, if the unnecessary shovel talk is over with, shall we throw some sharp things around?"
God, yes.
As it turns out, Xaden and Garrick had ordered more than just drinks. Chicken skewers with basil-feta cream show up, followed by root vegetables in lettuce boats and multiple pizzas—some of which have cauliflower crust. I kiss Xaden thankfully when I hear that, ignoring the way my pulse jumps at doing so in such a public setting.
Sloane sticks close to my side at first, chatting about the piece she's working on for another class outside my field, and introducing me to her brother who's every bit as polite as she is when he's not interrogating me about my intentions.
I rib Sloane slightly for her silence during what I'm privately calling The Deposition, but the blonde girl only shrugs. "I knew you could handle it." It's nice, that she has confidence in me. My own is questionable.
Xaden mostly talks with Garrick and Imogen, though he returns to my side throughout like a magnet. His touch is soothing and it's nice to relax into him and regather myself every so often before I continue socialising.
Bodhi…watches. It's unsettling, the way his eyes linger on us—not because he seems particularly creepy, but because I don't really know what he's looking for. I feel as if I'm being judged to a standard I'm not informed on.
"Was it like this for you?" I murmur beneath my breath, leaning close to Aaric. His father is the Secretary of the Air Force, after all.
"Not really," he admits, placing his chin in his hand. "I guess they're more protective of him?"
I throw him a sceptical look, sliding my eyes from Xaden to Sloane, the baby of the family. Somehow I don't think that's the case. For some reason, they're all just wary of…me.
"I didn't marry Sloane in a drunken, Las Vegas wedding," Aaric points out. "It is a bit different. The way we did things was very straight-forward, aside from…" His name.
I bite my lip, a little put-out.
"They'll get used to you eventually"—he knocks his fist into my shoulder—"if you plan to stay."
I don't really know what to tell him. "We've technically only been seeing each other for six days." How can I possibly know if things will work out?
"Yeah…" Aaric nods. "And you're here, meeting his family."
"Extraordinary circumstances!" I hiss. "I married him!" Of course they want to meet me. It's just a circumstance that isn't relevant to our real relationship. I want to forget I married him most of the time and pretend we're starting from scratch.
I drop my head into my hands. The tangled web of us is mind-melting even for me.
Aaric is quiet for a moment. "It seems like he's taking care of you."
Pink tints my cheeks and I look down at the table, my heart swelling. "I don't need to be taken care of," I argue, just to be contrary. I'm an adult. I'm very capable.
"It's nice though, isn't it?" His smile is a little too knowing. I swallow hard.
"I never…had that before," I whisper. "I've always had to be everything, all at once." Focused and successful, caring and adoring. The pressure of those expectations was a weight on my shoulders I don't miss one bit, and a large part of my reluctance to enter any relationship again.
I wasn't lying when I'd told Xaden it had been a relief, the lack of obligation that came with being single—to get home at night and not have to worry about anyone else—but with Xaden…he's attentive. He takes care of me in a way I've never experienced before.
"Do you want them to like you?" Aaric asks, nodding his head in the general direction of the group.
"…Yes," I admit begrudgingly. If I'm going to give this relationship a serious chance, then I at least want to be on civil terms with his family.
"Then go and talk to them. Sitting here with me won't get you anywhere."
I huff, rolling my eyes despite the fact that he's right. "Fine." I climb to my feet begrudgingly. Xaden is standing beside Garrick, talking casually while Imogen hurls an axe with enough force to make me reconsider ever snapping back at her again, and I quickly do an about-face, deciding that is not the direction I want to go in.
Making a decision, I move a few feet over, plopping myself down beside Bodhi, who's nursing a glass of bourbon like it's a requirement forced upon him and not something he actually enjoys.
"So…do you want to share what it is that's bothering you, or do I have to continue guessing?" I pull my knees up to my chest, glad I wore my most comfortable jeans.
He studies me appraisingly. "You're very straightforward, aren't you?"
"Not at all," I admit immediately. "I mean, sometimes—professionally, I am—but I think that leaves little energy for my brain to function that way the rest of the time." I'd figured that out in a different chair, earlier today.
"I know what you mean."
I shift a little, suddenly feeling vulnerable. "Really?"
Bodhi runs a hand through his curls. "I'm not much for social events. I like to just get home from work and—"
"Decompress," I finish, smiling slightly.
"Yeah," he nods.
"I get that." I sit quietly for a moment. "I'm trying to be straightforward now because it seems the easiest solution," I admit finally. "If we're all honest with each other then we're all on the same page."
Bodhi looks away and I watch his shoulders rise and fall. "I think what Xaden's doing with you is incredibly stupid."
I draw in a sharp breath, straightening my spine, and remind myself this isn't personal. "The circumstances suck, I agree with you."
He twitches, his expression sharpening for a second before it smooths back out into the calm, controlled mask he's been wearing all night. He's very clearly holding back something he wants to say.
"You seem like a nice person, Violet."
I don't know how to reply to that. I shrug. "I like to think that I am?" I sigh, letting my back hit the soft cushion behind me. "I made a mistake, asking him to pretend we were really together," I admit. "At the time I was so upset—I wasn't thinking—and when he agreed to keep up the charade I just thought…"
"That it could be a business arrangement?"
I shrug again, looking down. "He made it very clear he wanted more. I just thought I could resist. It didn't matter to me." My cheeks flush. I thought I could get what I wanted out of the arrangement and move on. It hasn't worked out that way at all.
"From what he's told me, it sounds like you are resisting."
Reluctantly, I lift my eyes to his. There's something about him that I find oddly settling. He carries himself with the same steadiness Xaden has, but there's also an aura of calm he seems to emit, and it makes him feel strangely trustworthy.
Bodhi has the kind of presence that makes you want to tell him everything and that seems particularly dangerous given his profession.
"I agreed to give him a chance," I reveal, turning my head to find Xaden watching us, his gaze searching, and I know if I were to show an ounce of discomfort he'd be over here in seconds. I tilt my lips reassuringly and return my attention to his cousin. "He can be very convincing."
"Yeah…" Bodhi nods. "It's one of his more annoying qualities."
A startled laugh escapes me and I tighten my grip on my leg, holding my knee to my chest.
"It feels…kind of unreasonable for everyone to question my intentions when we've only just started dating," I venture. "I know the wedding was a mistake, but if we put the marriage thing aside, given we're getting an annulment anyway, we're just two people who've been on a couple of dates." They treat me like I have to be all-in, or nothing at all.
"Xaden is a very…complex person," Bodhi heaves a sigh. "He's incredibly intelligent, but he's also meticulous and uncompromising. When he decides he wants something, he'll do anything to get it. He's ruthless." Bodhi stares, eyes searching for a kind of reassurance I'm not sure I can give. "Are you able to handle that? Because I don't know many women who could."
My stomach twists. I know this about him. Xaden's told me exactly what kind of man he is…but he's shown me so much more.
"He's also attentive, patient, and devoted." I reply defensively, my voice growing stony.
"He is," Bodhi accepts, "but when it comes to his nature, those things are secondary."
My reply is sharp. "When it comes to me, they're not."
He folds his arms over his chest and looks at me with something a little like pity. I know the side of Xaden I've seen so far—purposeful and considerate—is real. He might not get to show it as much once everyday life catches up with us, but it is a part of him and I'm tired of everyone, including him, pretending it's not.
"And yet, you're not exactly all-in," Bodhi counters. "Some part of you knows what I'm saying is true."
My breath catches and I narrow my eyes in a fierce glare. "That has nothing to do with Xaden!"
"Then what is it? I'm trying to get a read on your intentions and I can't quite figure you out." He tilts his head, studying me once more as if I'm some kind of puzzle, something to be deconstructed and put back together. I'm tempted to snap at him, to tell him he isn't entitled to 'figuring me out' but that won't help me win any friends here.
"I can't tell if you want me to be all-in or if you just want me gone," I reply honestly, exasperated.
"I want Xaden to be happy." It's delivered so bluntly that I fall still, my stomach twisting at the earnestness in his eyes.
Catching my lower lip between my teeth, I frown, dropping my gaze to my knees. "And you don't think that's with me?"
"That's not what I said," Bodhi sighs. "Xaden's never wanted anyone else, that's what worries us. This weird, crazy situation he's gotten himself tangled up in is the first time he's seriously considered dating anyone. You can see why we'd feel…cautious about it, given the circumstances. It doesn't seem smart. " He reaches out a hand, placing it gently on my arm. "Xaden's done a lot for all of us. We're overprotective in return."
Despite the reticence he clearly has to my presence in his cousin's life, I find myself relaxing just a little; the calm, open presence he projects cracking my defensive exterior.
"I married him by accident," I start softly, my voice cracking, "and now it's like…my body just orients me toward him. It's weird and indomitable, and it's become easier just to accept that and see where it leads." Easier, not easy. Nothing about this has been easy.
I don't know how to explain it to him. There's something incomprehensible about us, about the invisible string tying Xaden and I together, drawing me toward him.
"I fought him on it at first because I wasn't looking for a relationship. I'm still not, and that's about me, not about him."
"He said…" Bodhi hesitates, clearly debating whether sharing Xaden's thoughts would be a transgression on his part. "He said your last relationship, the one you started this whole act for, didn't go so well."
"He cheated on me." I shrug. "So did the guy before that. My friends say it's not my fault but…" I swallow. "I'm just not good at relationships. I don't think I'm cut out for them." At his inquisitive look, I continue, "Some people just aren't good at that sort of thing, right? I'm one of them."
"Do you think they're not for you, or have other people told you that?" he asks archly. God, he's just like Xaden. I hug my knee tighter to my chest.
"Experience tells me I'm bad at it," I say simply. "Xaden asked me to give it a chance and I am, because I like him, but I don't know that it will work long-term because I'm—"
"Not good at it," he finishes, blinking in surprise. "I don't know what to say that. You seem…self-aware and yet naive, all at the same time."
I make a face, feeling a little offended. I don't know what that even means, let alone how to respond. Thankfully I'm saved from having to reply by the appearance of my husband at my side.
"Everything ok?" Xaden asks, his eyes flicking between us cautiously.
Bodhi's smile is hesitant, but there. "Yeah. Everything's good."
I nod in agreement, some of the wariness in my gut settling with the peace we've seemingly formed.
Xaden reaches out, pulling me to my feet and wraps his arm over my shoulders. I press my face into his side, breathing deep. The scent of his cologne washes over me and I lean in, feeling the tension drain out of me. Two down, two to go.
"What's this?" I ask as he presses a shot glass into my hand, filled with purple liquid. Even the sugar around the rim is a glittering violet.
"A wet fantasy shot," Xaden murmurs, his lips curving up in a smirk. "I thought you might like something different." His fingers trail over my spine, setting my nerve endings alight.
Tentatively I let my tongue dart out, swiping over the crystallised sugar. Xaden stiffens, his eyes glued to my mouth and my stomach swoops with a hot kind of anticipation. If I let a little coyness into my voice as I thank him, well that's just an accident.
The shot tastes of vodka and grape schnapps, and I grimace a little as it goes down.
"Sorrengail!" Imogen calls from a few feet away, her tone challenging. "Are you going to throw one of these, or what?" There's an axe in her hand and I have to force down my instinctual reaction which is duck for cover.
I grimace. "Sure." Letting out a long breath, I push back my shoulders, leaving Xaden's comforting embrace behind to grasp a hatchet in my hands. I've been watching, kind of, as the others have been taking turns throwing them, Xaden and Garrick getting closest to the centre of the target.
The tool is unfortunately weighty in my hands and I can't see myself being able to throw it very far.
"Do you need a hand?" Xaden asks, stepping up behind me.
I lift a brow, giving him a dour look. "As cute as the idea of you 'helping me' by pressing your body up against mine is"—Garrick stifles a laugh—"I've grown rather fond of you, so I think you should just stand back, lest I put this axe in you by mistake."
Xaden snorts, but raises his hands, stepping back in surrender.
Grasping the handle in both palms, I hold it tightly, lifting it back over my head as I've seen the others do. I must check over my shoulder at least three times, making sure there's no one in the firing line in case I let it go early by accident. "This is so stupid," I mutter to myself, trying to calculate exactly where I should let the thing go. "Who needs all their toes, anyway?"
"Any day now, Sorrengail." Imogen sounds entirely too amused and I grit my teeth, telling myself I would not survive in gaol and I cannot throw a hatchet at one of Xaden's friends.
In the end I let the axe go and it soars through the air, far away from anybody's appendages. Unfortunately, I'm not known for my upper body strength and it falls rapidly toward the ground, plonking onto the floor below the target.
Garrick laughs uproariously and I try to take it in good faith, shaking my head. "I'm not strong enough for this," I protest, throwing my hands up. "The axe is too heavy."
"Excuses, excuses," the man jibes, but Imogen shakes her head.
"She's right. Look at her arms, they're like limp noodles."
I frown, looking down. They're not that bad. I'm perfectly capable of doing many things—throwing heavy objects around just isn't one of them. And why would I ever need to? I'm not a lumberjack.
I'm more than happy to tell them this, which only results in further ribbing. "I'm not kidding! It's the weight of the hatchet!" I grumble, feeling petulant. I'm three drinks in and the vodka is definitely beginning to affect my faculties. "If we were throwing knives around, I could definitely beat you."
Imogen's brows rise and slowly, her lips curve up in a smirk. "Is that a challenge, Sorrengail?"
I snort. "It's a fact. You wouldn't stand a chance." I don't know that for sure, of course, but I doubt a group of normal people have any experience throwing knives. Unlike them, my childhood was…Mira-fied.
"Come on then."
I startle, looking up at Xaden who pinches his nose in exasperation. "Imogen…" he begins, but the pink-haired girl is already off, headed toward the bar and Garrick grins in anticipation. Pulling myself from Xaden's arms, I quickly follow after her. If I win over Imogen, I'll probably have Garrick too and then it can be four out of four—or at least that's what my half-intoxicated brain is telling me. I want these people on my side.
She's leaning over the bar when I catch up with her, bargaining with the bartender for a couple of steak knives from the kitchen. When she turns around, smiling victoriously, I ask for another shot of vodka.
"Here," the man slides it across the counter. "One Wet Pussy." He winks. Imogen chokes.
I stare. "My husband would not be happy with you if he heard that."
The other girl can't stop laughing as I throw back the mix of cranberry and vodka, slamming the glass down on the counter top and when she finally catches a breath she whispers to herself, "God, this is the most entertaining thing that's ever happened to me."
It seems as if it were a comment meant for herself and not me, so I happily ignore it, passing her the steak knives. "Let's go."
We march back over to the group where Imogen gleefully declares that the bartender gave me a 'wet pussy', cementing my belief that they are all more like siblings than friends. Only siblings could be this antagonistic toward each other. Then again, I kind of want to kill her too.
I lean up on my toes, pressing my hands to Xaden's chest. "I told him my husband would not be happy if he heard that," I say seriously. I intend for it to come out as a whisper, but it's obviously loud enough for Garrick to hear, because he coughs loudly, covering laughter.
"Good," Xaden says sternly, leaning down to run his teeth over my ear, his arm snaking around my waist. "The only one who should be giving you a wet pussy, is me," he whispers and a soft sound escapes my lips, all the air punched out of my lungs. I tighten my fingers in his t-shirt, still balanced on my toes.
"So vulgar," I whisper for the second time today, my cheeks flushing with heat. Sinking back down on my heels, I press my thighs together, trying to quell the arousal swirling low in my abdomen. Now is not the time.
"Sorrengail, come on!" Imogen's voice breaks me out of my stupor and I whirl around, reaching for the knives. "I want to see you hit something." Her tone is derisive and I grin, feeling the weight of the blades in my hands, turning them from side to side. I've never thrown steak knives before, but it's close enough—a lot better than an axe anyway.
"Have you…done this before?" Xaden asks cautiously, holding a hand out. "You're a little buzzed." I'm not sure what makes him think knives are any more dangerous than an axe when one is intoxicated, but I tilt my chin up superiorly anyway.
"I'm good."
There's a grin on Aaric's face as he approaches, Sloane at his side, and he shakes his head, shooting me a knowing look. "She's fine," he reassures Xaden. "I mean, I've never seen her do it drunk before, but she can definitely handle herself with a blade."
Xaden's brows climb almost imperceptibly.
Feeling the weight in my hands once more, I wink at him, raising my arms before I've even fully turned around. An audible huff of air escapes him as I whirl, tossing the two knives with pinpoint accuracy, one flying from each hand. Simultaneously, they slam into the target side-by-side, a perfect bullseye.
I've still got it.
Turning around, I offer them a smug smile. "Told you it was the weight." Imogen gapes and Garrick looks more than a little stunned, but it's Xaden's expression that sets my my soul alight. It's one I've seen before, one I'm slowly growing used to—he looks like he wants to devour me.
My heart skips a beat.
"Did you know she could do that?" Garrick asks slowly, turning to his friend. "Is that why you call her Violence?"
Xaden silently shakes his head, his eyes never leaving mine. I step back into his arms, pressing my face to his chest. "Stop looking at me like that," I murmur. "It makes me want to be vulgar too."
His fingers tighten on my body. "You're drunk," he whispers, though it seems more like a reminder for himself than any commentary for me.
A soft sound catches in my throat and I close my eyes. "Just enough to be weightless." Maybe I should do this more often. I run my hands down over his torso, feeling the hard line of his abdominals beneath his shirt.
"Where did you learn how to do that?" he asks and I shrug, sucking my lower lip between my teeth.
"Mira taught me. I know it's not the most…demure skill, but she said I should know how to defend myself if I was going off to college in a big city. Mostly it just makes a great party trick."
He stares down at me, lifting his hand to my cheek. His eyes bore into mine, dark and intense. "You don't care for what's demure," he observes, his thumb grazing my temple. "In fact, I think you quite enjoyed that.
I hesitate. "Maybe."
"So why mention it?"
I know this tone, it means he's trying to lead me to something and while I normally don't mind, this time it has my chest tightening. I want to instinctually trust in whatever it is we have between us, but I'm not quite there yet.
"I mention it because men usually care." I reply stiffly. I'd felt compelled to cover my bases, just in case. While he didn't seem bothered by it, once the shine wears off it might be a different story.
"No," he denies immediately, his voice soft. "Men wouldn't care. Boys, maybe. Men find competency incredibly attractive, love." He steps forward aligning his body with mine and I still at the feel of him, half-hard against my hip. "You, my wife, are the hottest thing I've ever seen with or without a blade in your hand…and if you were ladylike and virtuous, I would take great pleasure in ruining you."
A soft sound escapes my throat, what might have become a whine before I manage to viciously snuff it out. He can't say things like that! And in public, too?
"I think I'm fairly virtuous," I breathe and his lips curve.
"I think you hide who you are well, Violet Sorrengail." My throat tightens. "Remind me whose opinion of you matters," he prompts, his hand still cupping my jaw.
I swallow. "Yours?" I rasp.
His eyes gentle. "And yours, love," he finishes softly, ducking his head to brush a gentle kiss over my cheek. "No one else's."
My heart thrashes in my chest. "I want to do very unladylike things to you," I admit, my throat dry as I stare up at him, wrestling back the instinctual discomfort that admission causes. Pressing myself further into his embrace, I squeeze my arms around him tightly.
"I thought this evening was for us to get to know her, not for you to play keep away with her all night," Garrick calls, startling me and I stumble back a step, putting a socially appropriate distance between us in seconds.
My cheeks flame and I clear my throat, focusing my attention back on the others. "Well…you know I'm an associate professor and that I can hit a target with a blade from thirty feet away without looking. What else do you want to know?"
Imogen stares. "Is that an exaggeration?"
My lips curve. "If it makes you feel better you can imagine so."
I'm confident I've won her over now. Not completely—I'm not sure anyone completely wins her over—but enough that she no longer wants to murder me for existing in Xaden's orbit. "Teach me the technique," she demands and I grin, looking at Xaden over my shoulder.
"Will you get me another drink?" I ask him, trailing my fingers over his arm.
"What kind of drink?"
"You choose." It's not for taste anyway. I'm enjoying feeling weightless. "No pineapple though," I clarify.
He drags a hand down my spine and I shiver, missing his presence the second he steps back. "Alright, but this should really be the last one."
I frown, mildly offended. "Because I can't handle my liquor?" I'm only teaching Imogen how to throw; we'll be fine.
"Exactly." The response is immediate. "You never drink. The last time you did, you married me." He smirks, dipping his head to whisper in my ear, "and because I don't have time for you to work your way through the menu. I'd prefer to get home at a decent hour and relive that night, one position at a time."
Oh my god. He never stops, does he? He's insatiable. I stare at him, utterly indignant. "We'll see." I fold my arms over my chest, setting my jaw in a hard, stubborn line and he smiles amusedly, turning on his heel.
"Ass." I mutter, turning back to his friends.
Garrick's lips tilt. "Are you sure you want to be stuck with him?" It's said with levity, but my pulse jumps anyway. "He's a lot of work."
"Xaden's a lot of work?" I clarify sceptically.
Garrick snorts."Trust me, he is."
I frown. Of all the men I've dated, Xaden is the lowest maintenance. He's slow and calm—protective to a fault when he decides he likes someone—and he only ever asks for what I'm willing to give. Being with him, once I force my way past my own lingering anxieties, is like breathing—simple and steady.
"Case in point." He gestures at me.
I try not to be offended. We did accidentally get married in Vegas. That's a lot for any family to have to deal with. I'm sure it's caused them a considerable amount of stress. "I'm…sorry?" I venture.
Imogen throws her head back and laughs.
"Don't be," Garrick deadpans. "This entire situation is hilarious and one-hundred percent on him."
I think it's at least fifty percent on me, actually, but I decide not to push the issue.
"It's at least amusing for us, seeing him chase after a woman like you," Imogen elaborates.
I open my mouth, then close it again. "A woman like me?" I finally ask.
She flips the knife in her hand. "Headstrong," she replies. "Difficult—in the best way. Women throw themselves at him all the time—your reticence makes you interesting." I try my best not to be charmed by that.
"Well I'm glad to be of amusement to you all, though my reticence is not as prolific as you all seem to think." My resistance of him was not only fleeting, but flimsy. I folded like a house of cards after a very short campaign on his part.
"What they're trying to say," Bodhi intervenes, sending them a dubious look, "is that Xaden really likes you and despite the circumstances, we're hoping you stick around."
I shift nervously on my feet, white sneakers scuffing against the carpet. I can't make any promises, I can only tell them where I'm at. "I really care about him too," I admit softly. "He can be a handful at times," I smile wryly, "but so am I."
Liam's lips curve. "I can tell from just this one night that you're going to run rings around him and personally, I find that delightful," he grins.
His sister nudges him in the side with her elbow. "Told you you'd like her."
My heart warms and my lips tilt up in a smile, mirroring hers. My brain is slightly fuzzy, soft at the edges from all the alcohol I've consumed, but I'm certain when I glance at Garrick that I've won him over too. That's four—every single one of Xaden's friends likes me. I glance at Imogen. Well…they don't hate me at least and that's good enough.
"Shall we throw?" I venture, lifting a steak knife.
The pink-haired woman grins. "You're on, Sorrengail."
When Xaden returns a minute later, a glass of orange liquid in his hand, I have her hitting the target with the blade, albeit far below the bullseye. "Don't flick!" I call, swaying slightly on my feet. "Natural rotation!" Mira would be so proud.
I turn my head up, smiling as I lean into Xaden's shoulder, taking the glass from his hand. "What's this?" I ask, smiling as he wraps his arm around my waist.
"A Slow Comfortable Screw," he replies and I shake my head, a quiet burst of laughter escaping me.
"Is that what you're hoping for tonight?" I ask, my cheeks heating as I take a sip, scrunching my nose up at the overpowering tang of vodka. Arousal coils in my abdomen as I imagine it, images of this morning flickering behind my eyes.
He leans down, brushing his mouth over my ear. "Well, we were a little restricted. The Sex On My Face had pineapple juice in it."
My stomach swoops. "Xaden!" I breathe, lips parted as I think about it, my knees on the mattress, thighs clamped around his head as he—
His fingers tighten on my waist. "Is she an expert yet?" he asks, lifting a brow in Imogen's direction. Can we go? He's asking.
It's probably rude to leave so soon but...I swallow hard, looking from his friend to the drink in my hand. In seconds I'm tipping it up, skolling what remains of the orange cocktail and placing the glass down on the table. "She'll manage." I've spent more than enough time with his friends tonight and I think I've earned my reward. I sway slightly, wrapping my fingers in the soft cotton of his t-shirt. As enlightening as this evening has been, there's a bed with our names all over it.