Hexed (Never After #6)

15. Enzo

FIFTEEN

ENZO

Groaning, I lean back in my chair, trying to curb the annoyance that is my fucking life.

I’ve been here at some florist called A Rose by Any Other Name for the past hour, staring at thirteen different flowers that all look the same, smell the same, and make me want to kill myself the same.

“Do you think white for this, E? Or, ooooh, maybe blue since Daddy wants to do a Lost City of Atlantis theme?” Aria’s eyes light up, and she bounces in her seat at the small table set up in the middle of the area. Suddenly, I feel like a complete asshole. She’s so excited, wanting me to be a part of things, and here I am, wishing I could be literally anywhere else.

“Whatever you want, princess.” I reach over and grab her hand, then lift it to my mouth and press a chaste kiss to the back before setting it down.

There’s an audible sigh next to me, and I roll my neck to the side, trying to ignore who I know it’s coming from: Jenny, Aria’s very annoying party planner.

“Can I help you?” Aria bites at her, her eyes narrowing.

Jenny snaps out of whatever daze she was in, staring at me like a vapid doll, and clears her throat, her vision dropping to the gigantic pastel-pink binder she has sitting in front of her. “Nope, I, uh…just ignore me. I just love seeing two people in love, you know?” She mumbles the last bit while clicking her pen repeatedly.

“Yeah, well—” Aria’s hand strokes down the front of my chest, and she presses against my shoulder. “ That I can’t blame you for. But a word of advice, Jenny?” She crosses her legs and leans in slightly. “Stop eye fucking my man.”

I lift a brow and finally look over at the party planner, who has turned such a tomato red that she could blend with the walls of roses lined up behind her.

“So-sorry, Miss Kingston,” she stutters. “Mr. Marino.”

This time, Jenny doesn’t look at me, and I feel sorry for the girl. I’ve seen minor hints of a different Aria in the past few days, one who’s a little mean and a little insecure. She’s always been jealous, but I’ve never paid it much mind, assuming it was just a general chick thing. Being in Atlantic Cove is highlighting it even more than usual, and it’s putting me on edge.

Or maybe I’m just looking for a reason, and if that’s the case, I’m an even bigger piece of shit than I thought.

“Go check about the color scheme.” Aria waves her away.

Jenny sucks on her teeth and nods, walking to the front of the shop where the counter is, then flagging down the florist and bending their heads close together so they can talk in a low whisper.

I smirk at Aria. “Give the girl a break, yeah?”

She rolls her eyes. “Jenny’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t make it any easier on her.”

Aria’s foot starts methodically tap, tap, tapping against the black metal leg of the table. “Since when did you become Mr. Nice Guy?”

“I’m not nice.” I sniff. “Besides, can you blame the girl? She can’t help that her taste is clearly superior.” I gesture to myself with a wide grin.

Aria’s scowl melts from her features, and she throws her arms around my neck, pressing a soft kiss to my cheek before dragging her lips up to my ear. “Humble too. What a man you are.”

“Now you’re mad because I know what a catch I am?” I joke, pushing against her forearm to get some separation.

She laughs but leans in again, pressing her lips to mine.

They’re sticky from gloss and probably leave a pinkish hue on my mouth, but I let her do what she needs to do because what kind of asshole would I be if I didn’t?

A flash of Venesa’s lips hits my mind, and I wonder how different kissing her would feel to this.

My cock jerks with the thought.

“I miss you,” Aria breathes. “I feel like since we’ve been here, I’ve barely seen you at all.”

Guilt, sharp and hot, worms its way through my chest.

It isn’t Aria’s fault I feel like I’m being slowly suffocated by how fucking sweet she always is to me.

Or that, for some reason, it’s harder to pretend with her now that I’ve met her cousin.

“Me too,” I reply, like I’m on autopilot.

Aria’s hand presses against my cheek, and she kisses me again.

A bell dings as the front door opens, and a warm gust of wind whips through, hitting the side of my face. I turn toward the noise, and my heart stutters because there’s Venesa, like I summoned her to life, and right beside her is that douchebag Fisher.

A bitterness grabs hold of me, squeezing green envy out of me from every pore. He’s got an arm around her, and the way he’s able to touch her so freely, with such purpose, makes me wonder where else he’s touched and how often he may get to.

It also reminds me that I never will; it’s like teasing me with the end of a rainbow but never letting me hold the pot of gold.

Damn. I had hoped the feeling Venesa has been inspiring in me was a fluke. I even halfway convinced myself it was all in my head. Something spawned by the cold feet of me being forced to agree to this sham marriage with a girl I owe my life to, instead of meeting someone who actually makes me feel .

But now, after less than a second in Venesa’s presence, I know the only person I’ve been lying to is myself.

Everything else falls away when I look at her.

Everything .

She’s glancing around the store and grinning at something Fisher’s saying, that silvery hair piled high in a mess of a bun on top of her head. A few strands are loose around her face, and my hand twitches, wanting to push them out of the way, just so I don’t miss seeing a single inch of her.

If you had asked me a couple of weeks ago, I’d say connections like this with people you’ve just met don’t really exist. They’re fairy tales. Delusory.

But I guess it’s easy to pretend things are unrealistic if you’ve never experienced them yourself.

“What are you doing here?” Aria rubs at her temples like even seeing Venesa is a drain on her psyche.

Venesa’s smile widens, and she looks over at Fisher with a smirk before both of them walk to where we’re sitting.

“We’re here to help.” She pulls out a chair right next to me and slides into it, tucking a strand of that hair behind her ear and studiously avoiding my gaze.

Doesn’t matter. The side of my body buzzes anyway, and I have to stop myself from peeking at her just to see if there’s any sign she feels it too.

A flush of her cheek. A stuttered breath. A twitch of her fingers.

“Don’t act so happy to see us here, Aria, baby.” Fisher plops down next to Venesa, throwing his legs out wide and an arm behind her chair.

I grit my teeth, that new and unfamiliar burning swirling through my center as I watch them.

Aria’s shoulders stiffen, a flush blooming under her cheekbones. “I’m not your baby, Fisher. You can’t just go around calling people that.”

Venesa’s eyes narrow. “Have you ever met Fisher, Aria? He calls everyone ‘baby.’”

Aria scoffs and crosses her arms.

“Then again, you should know that better than anyone.” Venesa tilts her head.

“You’re pathetic,” Aria snips.

“I’m a lot of things.” Venesa shrugs, amusement flickering like a candle in her gaze. She reaches out and picks up one of the white roses and then says, “You should do white daisies.”

Aria frowns at her. “ Why would I do that?”

Venesa twirls the stem in her fingers before bringing the rose up to her nose and inhaling. “They’re good for wedding stuff. Happiness, love…” She glances at me. “Fertility.”

My neck grows hot, and I shift in my seat.

Fisher opens his mouth, useless words flowing out yet again.

This whole thing is tiresome as fuck. It’s like I’m watching them all be in high school, throwing low-grade barbs at each other just because they don’t know how to deal with their hurt feelings and their petty jealousies.

“Enough,” I demand. “All of you are giving me a fucking headache.” I look at Aria. “They’re here, whether or not you like it, so you might as well use them. I gotta go anyway.”

Aria frowns, her eyes growing sad. “What? You’re leaving?”

I nod. “Scotty and I gotta go do some things.”

There’s a question in her gaze, but like the dutiful wife she’s about to become, she knows better than to ask.

Jenny waltzes back over with that clicky pen, and her footsteps stutter when she takes in the new duo sitting at the table.

“Hi,” she says. “I’m Jenny.”

She holds out a hand, and Venesa grins at her with that slow seductive smile I’m convinced she uses on people simply to disarm them.

“Jessica, you said?”

The planner shakes her head. “No, ‘Jenny.’ I said ‘Jenny.’”

Venesa scrunches her nose and leans across the table. “Oh, good. Can I tell you a secret? I’ve never met a Jessica I’ve liked. I’m glad you aren’t one.”

She winks, and Jenny blushes, a pretty crimson color dusting across the bridge of her nose.

And fuck, now I’m turned on.

Is there anyone Venesa doesn’t affect?

I glance at Fisher, wondering once again how many times she’s fucked him and, even more so, why the hell I care.

“Remind me to never introduce you to my assistant,” I pipe in.

Venesa ignores me.

“Jenny,” Aria snaps, standing up and gripping her arm, pulling her to the side. “Do you have to flirt with everyone ?”

Aria continues to berate the poor girl, and I take the opportunity to move my foot over and nudge Venesa’s. “Hi.”

“Hi yourself,” she returns.

Fisher shifts in his chair, his beady eyes narrowing as they flick between the two of us.

“Jenny, baby.” Fisher calls the planner back over. “Do you do birthday parties?”

Venesa’s gaze swings to him. “No.”

His brows rise. “You don’t even know what I’m gonna ask.”

“I do know what you’re gonna ask, Gup. And the answer’s no. I didn’t even want you to come here with me, and I’m sure as hell not letting you take over a birthday I don’t want to celebrate.”

“You know, I don’t really need your permission.” He crosses his arms over his chest, a smirk lifting the right corner of his pierced lip.

“True.” Venesa taps her pointer finger to her chin. “You won’t need anything if you’re dead.”

Fisher snorts and tips his chair back until it’s balancing on two legs. “Please, you could never kill me.”

“Your birthday’s coming up?” I ask, mainly because I want her attention back on me.

She sighs, chewing on her lip before she nods. “Yeah.”

“Not just any birthday—her twenty-fifth birthday. It’s a milestone. We gotta celebrate. Short Stack, come on, you’re such a fucking downer.”

“No. I don’t wanna talk about it anymore.”

Of course she wouldn’t want to celebrate something like that, and I’m irritated that a guy who seems to be her boyfriend wouldn’t be sensitive to her history.

Doesn’t anyone actually see her? Do they even care ?

I’ve only known her for a week, and I feel like I could school them.

My gaze swings back to Venesa and gets stuck again like glue, because I can’t not look at her. She curls a strand of her hair behind her ear. Then picks at a cuticle. Teeth into her lip again. Nervous tics that seem so fluid, I can almost convince myself I imagined them, but they’re there all the same. Little leaks of vulnerability, seeping out from boxes locked up too tight.

I can relate to that.

“When is it?” I ask, a little annoyed I don’t already know.

“When’s what?” Venesa retorts, looking anywhere but at me.

“Your birthday. When is it?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“It’s August eighteenth,” Fisher cuts in.

“That’s in three days,” I note.

Jenny laughs uncomfortably, shifting on her feet as she looks over at them. “Well, I do birthdays but not ones on such short notice.”

My phone chimes with a text from Scotty saying he’s out front, and Aria sighs, turning her attention on me instead of whatever Jenny’s saying. “Let me guess, you have to leave?”

Fuck yeah, I do.

Nodding, I try to adopt a sympathetic look as I stand, buttoning my suit jacket and brushing a hand down Aria’s hair. “Ladies, it’s been a pleasure, but my future father-in-law wants some attention.”

Venesa tilts her head and gives me a curious expression, which immediately puts me on edge.

Is she here because of him?

Aria pouts. “You didn’t tell me your stuff was with Daddy.”

“You should be happy your dad and I are getting along.” I lean down and press a kiss to the side of her head. “I’ll see you later.”

My chest burns when I meet Venesa’s stare, and it takes everything in me to tear my gaze away.

Aria stands and wraps her arms around my neck, pressing her lips to mine, her tongue prying my mouth apart.

And again, I let her because she’s the one I’m supposed to want.