Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 97767 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97767 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Austin lifts her head, glancing between the two of us. “What’s happening? Did I miss something?”
“No,” I say quickly, shooting Nova a warning look. “You missed nothing.”
“Gio, relax,” my sister says slyly. “I’m not going to tell her the things we talk about. I’m not that drunk.”
“You’re drunk enough,” I mutter, sinking back against the couch and shooting her one last warning look. She just smirks, clearly enjoying herself way too much.
Austin looks between us, suspicious but amused. “You’re both weird.”
“However!” Nova says, holding up a finger like she’s about to make a grand proclamation. Her gaze lands on Austin, pointed and deliberate. “Do you believe in love at first sight?”
Oh.
My.
God.
The air leaves my lungs in an instant, and my brain short-circuits. Why the hell did I open my mouth and say anything earlier? If I’d just kept my stupid questions to myself, we wouldn’t be in this situation. Nova wouldn’t have the ammo, and Austin wouldn’t be staring at her like she’s just sprouted a second head and that head is Wayne Gretzky.
“Nova,” I say sharply, sitting up straighter. “Don’t.”
I chug all the wine in my glass and grab the bottle.
“What?” Nova asks innocently, batting her eyelashes. “I’m just saying—it’s interesting, isn’t it? Some people believe in it. Some people wonder about it.”
I am stupid, stupid, stupid!
This is why we can’t have nice things.
Austin swallows a lump in her throat, setting her wine glass on the coffee table. “For the record, no—I don’t believe in love at first sight. Since you brought it up.”
Oh.
The word sinks in, heavy and hollow. I shift awkwardly on the floor, reaching for the bottle of wine to pour myself another glass, the act giving me something to do other than meet her eyes. The sting of disappointment is sharp, but I shove it down, covering it with a practiced nonchalance.
“That’s fair,” I say finally, forcing my tone to stay light. “It’s not exactly the most logical concept.”
Out of the corner of my eye, Nova freezes. Her grin falters, and she looks at me, her expression tight with something close to regret.
Guilt.
“Exactly,” Austin says, relaxing a bit as she settles back into her spot beside me. “Love takes time. It’s not something that happens the second you meet someone.”
Nova fidgets with her glass, not meeting my eyes.
“Right,” my sister says softly, her earlier confidence gone. She looks like she wants to say something more, but she bites her lip instead, her shame practically radiating off her.
I nudge her with my toe.
She glances at me, startled, and I give her a look—a silent it’s fine, stop beating yourself up.
Chaos is practically her default setting.
I don’t want her to feel like shit because she’s drunk and messing around—this is supposed to be fun.
But just when I think we’re about to successfully steer the conversation into safer territory, Nova blurts out, “What about my brother though? Did you fall head over heels for him?”
Again, the room goes silent, except for the music in the background.
Austin freezes mid-reach for a pretzel, her eyes going wide. Nova immediately clamps a hand over her mouth, as if she can take back the words by sheer force of will.
Her gaze flicks to me, panic written all over her face.
I am going to kill her!
“I mean—” Austin stammers after a beat, her voice slightly higher-pitched than usual. “I’ve been his biggest fan since he was drafted.”
She lets out a nervous little laugh, trying to cover her discomfort.
“That’s not what I mean,” Nova says, lowering her hand. Her tone is softer now, but the damage is already done.
My face burns as I glare at my freaking sister, silently screaming what the hell are you doing?! She winces, mouthing a quick “sorry” in my direction, but it’s too late to undo her slip.
I clear my throat, desperately trying to salvage the situation.
“Okay, let’s just pretend Nova didn’t say that,” I say quickly, forcing a light laugh. “She’s had too much wine and clearly has no filter right now.”
“Agreed,” Nova says, holding up her glass in a weak toast. “Too much wine. Blame the wine.”
Austin chuckles nervously, her cheeks still faintly pink. “Yeah, let’s blame the wine.”
But as much as I try to focus on the banter, I can’t help but feel the weight of Nova’s words hanging between us. Because as much as I’d like to believe Austin’s answer didn’t matter, the truth is, I was holding my breath for it.
We sit here for another several hours, wine bottles empty, charcuterie board dwindling, the laughter coming and going in waves. By the time the conversation finally slows, it’s eleven o’clock, and my eyes are starting to feel heavy.
I yawn.
Stretch.
“I should get going,” I say, reluctantly pushing myself off the floor. “I have to be up at five.”
Both women wrinkle their noses in unison, the distaste on their faces almost comical. “Ew,” they say at the same time.