Scintillation (Stars Align Book 3)

by Kate Stacy

  His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat and he closes his eyes, taking a second to breathe. When he opens them again, they glisten with unshed tears, but I pretend I don’t notice. He’s not ready to open up about everything and I won’t force him. For now, we’ll focus on my shit and come back to his when the time is right.

  “Blood doesn’t make family, Adam. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten that fact. I understand why you want to find your father, but right now, he’s essentially a sperm donor. Finding him isn’t going to make you whole. I think deep down you know that.”

  “Gotta try. Because I don’t know what the fuck else to do.”

  “I get it. You’ll let me know if there’s anything I can do to help?”

  I nod, and let it drop.

  Being an orphan from a young age, I thought he’d understand. He was bounced from foster home to foster home. Ryan and I were the only family he had. Still are.

  Hell, maybe he’s right. I won’t know unless I find my father.

  For now, that’s where I’ll keep my focus.

  FIVE

  Presley

  It’s been awhile since I’ve been to the bar with my sisters.

  They’re both always busy with their men and kids.

  I don’t begrudge them their happiness, they both went through hell and fought for their happily ever after. But knowing that doesn’t stop the pang of envy from shooting through me whenever I see them and their happy families. It’s not pleasant to always feel like the one who got left behind.

  I was supposed to come with Derrick tonight, but he had a wardrobe malfunction to handle or something. I don’t know. Not sure I want to. I’ve learned not to ask questions about certain things. I had Madalyn swing by the apartment to pick me up and Derrick promised to meet me here as soon as he can.

  Spending time with my sisters until he gets here is no hardship. I hadn’t realized how much I missed them until now. We used to be inseparable. Oh, how times have changed.

  Camille has already fucked with Jaxson, as usual, by ordering the raunchiest named drinks she can think of. It’s hilarious that he gives as good as he gets now. Not sure the game between the two of them will ever end. It’s good fun for anyone who’s lucky enough to be around when it goes down.

  I order another Adios Motherfucker, my intention to get completely fucked up tonight. It’s been a favorite since Jaxson served one to Camille as a joke last year, but I don’t order one often.

  I look around while I wait for Noah to finish mixing my drink.

  Most people have something green in their glass.

  Green beer. I’ve never understood the hype. I tasted it one time and swore to never let something so vile touch my taste buds again.

  I’m surprised to see they actually decorated this year. It’s a bit much if you ask me, but no one did, so I’ll keep my opinion to myself. There are four-leaf clovers everywhere and a huge rainbow made from balloons. I was speechless when I first walked in and saw that particular monstrosity.

  Oh well. Whatever gets their rocks off. People seem to be having a good time and that’s what really matters.

  Noah slides my drink across the bar at the same time someone taps me on the shoulder. I cover the top of my glass with my hand and turn to see who’s trying to get my attention.

  Jaw meet floor.

  It’s official.

  Not allowing Derrick to choose my outfit for tonight is by far the best decision I’ve ever made. I may have dodged an actual bullet this time.

  Standing in front of me is my best friend in all his glittering glory.

  Blinking back my surprise, I raise my glass toward my mouth, wrap my lips around the straw and sip. Continuously.

  I keep my mouth busy and my expression neutral until Derrick spins in a full circle, ending it with an enthusiastic shimmy and a bold, brilliant smile.

  “Well? What do you think?”

  Unable to hold back any longer, I burst into laughter. I can’t even stop the snort that sneaks out mid-laugh. I don’t think I’ve ever snorted before in my life.

  I laugh so hard tears spring to my eyes.

  Without holding back, I say the first thing that pops into my head.

  “You look like a big, gay leprechaun!”

  I didn’t think it was possible, but his smile widens.

  “I know! Isn’t it fabulous?!”

  Only Derrick could pull off wearing a glittery green suit, complete with a matching bowtie and top hat. It’s like a car wreck. I find myself unable to look away.

  Just when I think I’m finished laughing, my gaze drifts to his feet.

  The shoes!

  Oh my fucking God!

  Glittery. Green. Shoes.

  “All you need now is a pot of gold,” I tease between breaths of laughter.

  “Gold is gaudy. I’m more interested in finding me a lucky charm or two.”

  He winks at Noah and orders something called a Fuzzy Leprechaun.

  Add Fuzzy Leprechaun to the list of things I will not ask Derrick about.

  Noah blushes at Derrick’s blatant flirting, which I find adorable. I think he’s relieved that Derrick didn’t pull a Camille and ask for something dirty.

  My body jerks instinctively when someone pinches my ass. Derrick’s face holds a mock look of innocence. I glare at him and he shrugs.

  “You aren’t wearing green, my pretty. No green gets a booty pinch.” He accepts his drink from Noah with a sly smile before turning back to me. “You should have let me dress you for the event and you’d be safe from pinchy fingers.”

  “Ha! No. I have zero regrets from that decision. I can only imagine what you’d have me wear. I’ll take my chances with my green eyes being a natural pinching deterrent.”

  “Fine. Have it your way.” He sips his drink, looking around the crowded room. “Hmm. Perhaps I’ll find some treasure at the end of the rainbow.”

  Our eyes follow the trail of rainbow balloons floating above our heads. We have two vastly different reactions when we reach the end.

  I roll my eyes and turn back toward the bar.

  “Mmm. A treasure indeed, but one not meant for me. I do believe the treasure is yours, Presley.” He points at me and winks. “Bet he’s magically delicious.”

  I scoff, biting back my retort.

  I glance back toward the end of the rainbow and sure enough, he’s still there. He’s staring in my direction with a scowl on his gorgeous face. Ugh. Even with furrowed brows and downturned lips he looks magnificent. I hate it.

  “What’s the deal between you two, anyway?” Camille asks. “I’ve tried asking him, but he won’t say a word. Even Ryan has no clue what’s going on and Adam usually tells him everything.”

  As if she’s going to get an answer out of me.

  Even if I wanted to tell her, I couldn’t.

  There’s nothing between us.

  He’s sexy as fuck, and I won’t deny my attraction to him. But when he’s not scowling at me, he’s indifferent. Half the time it’s like he doesn’t even know I exist. In all the time he’s been in Blackwood, all the times we’ve been at the same events, in the same room—we’ve never spoken.

  I’d swear he hates me or has something against me.

  But I’ll be damned if I know what it is.

  “There’s no deal,” I finally answer before turning back to the bar.

  I don’t know what the fuck his problem is, but it’s a him problem and has nothing to do with me.

  His good looks mean nothing when he looks at me like something he scraped off the bottom of his shoe. I won’t waste my time or give him any of my attention. I may not always think highly of myself, but I’m smart enough to know I deserve better than that.

  “Not sure I believe that, but I’ll let it go. For now. I’ll figure out what the two of you are hiding. Mark my words.”

  She has no idea how wrong she is in her assumption.

  We’re hiding
nothing.

  Well, I’m not hiding anything.

  He could be.

  The reason he looks at me like I’m a waste of space, for instance.

  It’s an unknown, something he hasn’t bothered to share with me.

  “C’mon!” Camille grabs my hand, giving it a tug. “Derrick ditched you for some D, so you can come sit with us.”

  I failed to notice him slip away, but sure enough, he’s at the other end of the bar in total flirt mode, fluttering his eyelashes at the guy in front of him.

  I catch his gaze and widen my eyes, begging him to come save me. He gives me a little shrug and continues his conversation. I can’t stop my sister from dragging me across the room. We join everyone at the table, and everyone takes their seats, leaving the only available space for me.

  Next to Adam.

  Sighing, I slide into the booth.

  He says nothing as I sit down.

  He dismisses me with a glance and continues his conversation with Ryan. Try as I might, I can’t pretend it doesn’t bother me. I may say I don’t care, but I can’t help wondering what I did to make him hate me.

  Why am I always attracted to assholes?

  SIX

  Adam

  Of course, she’d end up next to me.

  I do what I can to put some space between the two of us.

  Ryan’s girl, Camille, she’s good people. In fact, everyone she surrounds herself with seem like good people. They all welcomed me, Ryan and Hannah with open arms, without a second thought. I get along with all of them, with a single exception.

  Presley.

  Honestly, I don’t know what the fuck to think about her.

  Something about the girl rubs me the wrong way.

  At the same time, I’m drawn to her. She pulls me in like gravity. I swear I can fuckin’ feel it whenever she walks into a room. It’s maddening. I hate it.

  Presley isn’t like her sisters.

  Madalyn and Camille—despite going through hell—are outspoken and outgoing. They love being the center of attention and the life of the party.

  Not Presley.

  She’s always quiet. Always watching, judging. Like she puts herself above everyone else, looking down on them from her imaginary throne. Everyone treats her like she’s precious, spoiled.

  Like a pretty little princess.

  It’s been my nickname for her since the first time I laid eyes on her.

  Princess Presley.

  We see each other at every social function in this town and she always goes out of her way to avoid me, avoid talking to me. I’m not sure what I’ve done to make her ignore me, but at this point I’m not sure I care.

  I finish listening to Ryan’s story about some drunk he arrested the other night. I missed most of it when my thoughts strayed to the girl next to me, but it doesn’t matter. Once he’s finished, I greet the newcomers with a smile.

  I’m normally a quiet guy. I come off as an asshole because I’m standoffish with people I don’t know. It took a while, but I’m finally at ease enough around this group to open up and have a good time.

  Except when it comes to Presley.

  But I’m not a complete asshole, so I greet her with a tip of my head and a smirk.

  “Princess.”

  Okay, so I lied. Maybe I am a complete asshole.

  I couldn’t resist taunting Miss High and Mighty.

  If looks could kill, the glare she shoots in my direction would stop my heart. But a look is all she gives me. She doesn’t speak, doesn’t respond. She turns and looks out across the crowded bar, presumably looking for her friend.

  “Will we see Cannon tonight?” Camille asks, hopefully.

  Sipping my whiskey, I shake my head and she frowns.

  “He’s not up for large crowds. It’s gonna take some time.”

  She nods, and thankfully I don’t need to say more.

  Camille has such a good heart.

  She met Cannon briefly, but she happened to be holding one of the twins at the time and it was too much for Cannon. He reacted badly and unintentionally upset her. Because of that, and the fact that she’s practically married to Ryan at this point, we sat her down and explained Cannon’s situation. We needed her to understand that Cannon isn’t himself right now. He’s not the best company and he has no desire to be around people who aren’t Ryan or myself.

  I’m aware of Presley’s close proximity and the fact that she’s hanging on every word. The curious expression on her face makes it obvious she’s interested, but she remains silent. As usual.

  I don’t feel compelled to explain anything to her. She hasn’t met Cannon yet, and quite frankly, his business is none of hers.

  Ryan snares Cami’s attention, and Madalyn has disappeared somewhere with Jaxson. Presley and I sit in a tense, uncomfortable silence. I try to think of an excuse to leave the table, but from the corner of my eye I see Presley wrap her plump pink lips around the straw in her drink and my mind blanks out. She doesn’t notice me watching her and that’s exactly how I’d like to keep it.

  I don’t understand my attraction to her.

  I don’t want to be attracted to her.

  Sure, she’s gorgeous, but beauty is only skin deep.

  I’m saved when her friend makes his way to the table and pulls her from the booth.

  “Dance with me, my pretty!”

  He’s sloshed, but Presley doesn’t seem to care. She giggles as he pulls her away and the sound goes straight to my dick.

  Groaning quietly, I adjust myself under the table and force my eyes away from the sway of Presley’s ass as she makes her way across the floor. I hope no one notices my discomfort. Thankfully, Cami and Ryan are still lost in each other. I stand, excusing myself to get another drink, but I doubt they’ll even notice I’m gone.

  I park my ass on an empty stool near the back of the bar and grab Noah’s attention. He nods, gesturing to give him a minute. He's a king in his own right behind that bar, so less than a minute later I have a fresh drink in my hand. I thank him and turn toward the crowd.

  My eyes immediately lock on Princess Presley. I watch without care. I’m mesmerized, unable to take my eyes off her as she dances. With her back to his front, her arms are lifted, wrapped around Derrick’s neck. He holds her hips as she pushes back, grinding her ass up against him. It’s hypnotic, sexy as fuck, and completely wasted on her friend.

  “She’s something else, isn’t she?”

  Noah’s voice breaks my trance and I look back at him. “Who said I was watching her?”

  He chuckles and shakes his head. “You’ve been straight up eye-fucking her for the last ten minutes.” He takes my empty glass and places another in front of me. “I can’t blame you—she’s gorgeous. They all are.”

  His comment touches some type of nerve and sets me on edge. My body tenses at the way his eyes linger a little too long on the way she moves.

  Apparently, my reaction isn’t subtle.

  “Don’t hulk out on me, man.” He laughs, drying glasses with a white bar towel. “I’m a nonissue. Presley is beautiful, but I’d never go there. I’ve known the Sterlings most of my life. Those girls feel too much like family.”

  “It’s not like that. I’m not into her,” I insist, but it falls on deaf ears.

  Noah smirks. “Keep lying to yourself, brother.” Someone calls his name and he looks toward the source. He nods, turning back to me. “Just remember...you fuck with her, you answer to Holden.”

  He taps his fingers to the bar top and he’s gone.

  If Noah can see right through me, I wonder what everyone else sees.

  I quickly decide it doesn’t matter.

  My attraction to her is purely on a physical level and I have no plans to act on it.

  Like Noah, it’s a nonissue.

  SEVEN

  Presley

  Stepping into The Sweet Spot, I instantly spot Tara seated at a table in the corner,
picking at a muffin while she taps at the screen of her tablet.

  With a quick wave to Madalyn, I make my way to Tara, not bothering to stop at the counter because Mads already knows what I like and I know she’ll bring it over to me when she gets a chance.

  “Hey, Tara.”

  She stands, greeting me with a hug.

  I’m normally not a touchy-feely person with people who aren’t family, but Tara has basically seen me naked. I’m more than comfortable with her now.

  “Presley, your photos turned out ah-mazing! I can’t wait to show them to you.”

  It’s been a few weeks since the shoot and I’ve both anticipated and dreaded this day.

  Tara’s excitement lights up her entire face and I must admit...it’s kinda contagious.

  The more I listen to her ramble about setting and lighting and a billion other photography-related things I don’t understand, the more excited I feel about finally seeing pictures of me in practically nothing.

  “Gah! I’m sorry. I know I’m rambling. You can tell me to shut up at any time. I’m just so pleased with your shoot. It’s one of my favorite sessions to date. You were great to work with and the pictures...well...see for yourself!”

  She slides the tablet across the table, but I don’t immediately pick it up—something I’m thankful for when Madalyn pops up beside me.

  “Your usual,” she says, setting my iced white chocolate mocha in front of me. A small plate with a large apple fritter appears next to it. “Oh! Are those the pictures from your boudoir session?” she asks, reaching for the tablet.

  I smack her hand away and move it out of reach.

  “Christ, Mads. Could you say that shit any louder? I don’t think the people across the street heard you.”

  “Sorry. I didn’t realize it was some big secret.”

  I stare at her blankly. “Did you forget which sister you’re talking to?”

  “Fine. You’ve made your point. Can I at least see them later?”

  I roll my eyes playfully. “I haven’t decided if anyone is going to see them. I haven’t even seen them yet.”