bChapter /b66

Lacey raises her hands in surrender. ‘Didn’t cross my mind once. I swear. Besides, I was kinda starstruck btoo/bb, /bby /bknow? Then I met him and he’s just an over–hyped loser.”

“Ha fucking ha. Hrious, Lacey.”

She grins. “I know.”

Lacey’s words don’tfort Céline at all, because she’s still so obviously starstruck. I can’t help but smileb, /bshe must be a really huge fan. “I’m sorry, but I just can’t get over this. So, you’re the Liam Calloway? Like the real bone/bb?/bb” /b

Liam leans back in his chair, easy and rxed. “Depends on what you’ve heard.”

Céline hums thoughtfully. “That you are either the golden boy of hockey or a menace off iceb. /bIt depends who you bask/bb. /b

I snort. “Both are urate.”

Liam turns to me, feigning offense. “Et btu/bb, /bEmilia?”olli1./li/ol

Célineughs, and Lacey nudges my arm. “And you–Emilia, right? You’re all over social media these days it kinda bfeels /blike I know you personally now. Plus, Bec hasn’t shut up about you.”

I brace myself. “Oh?”

She waves a hand. “Nothing bad, surprisingly. Just that you’d be here.”

“Wow,” I say dryly. “I’m touched.”

Lacey grins, but before she can say anything else, a hush falls over the deck.

A few heads turn toward the entrance, and like some kind of scripted moment from a rom, Zane and Ba finally

make their grand entrance.

Zane, effortlessly cool in a fitted button–down, walks like the whole ship belongs to him.

Ba, on his arm, looks like a goddamn dream–perfectly styled, glowing, the kind of beautiful that makes you feel

like you need to check your reflection.

I should be over it by now. Shouldn’t feel anything. Shouldn’t care.

But the way Zane’s eyes flicker toward me–just for a second, bjust /blong enough to register something unreadable- makes my stomach twist anyway.

The feeling doesn’tst long. Not after I remember the way he acted in my bakery a few bweeks /bago–like I was nothing. Like all the years we spent together meant bless /bthan the crumbs on the floor.

Bile rises in my throat.

I turn away before he can look at me again, focusing on Céline, who’s still chatting with Liam. She bgestures /bbwildly /bwith her hands, her French ent thick as she tells him a story about a disastrous first date she had with some football yer.

bChapter /bb66 /b

bLacey /bleans bin/bb, /bbdropping /bher voice. b“/bbSo/b, are you bgonna /bpretend they bdon’t /bexist, or are we doing bthe /bwhole polite ex

thingb? /b

I let out a shortugh. “Oh, I’m way past polite.”

She grins. “Good. Ba loves an audience. You ignoring her will drive her crazy.”

That alone makes it worth it.

Liam must sense my shift in mood because his hand casually finds bmy /bthigh under the table, his thumb rubbing slow,

reassuring circles. bIt’s /bnothing. A tiny touch. But it anchors me.

I don’t need to look at Zane. I don’t need to acknowledge Ba.

I have nothing to prove to either of them.

Well, aside from giving them basic courtesyb. /bIt is their wedding cruiseb, /bafter all.

Zane picks up a champagne ss and taps it with a knifeb, /bthe delicate clink ringing through the air.

Not that he needed to–his obnoxious, know–it–all voice would have drawn attention just fine.

“Thank you all foring to celebrate Ba and my impending marriage for an entire month on this ship. It means more to us than you’ll ever realise.”

Liam makes a low, amused sound, just quiet enough for only me to hear. “A whole month? God help us.”

I bite my lip to keep fromughing. Ba stands beside Zane, practically glowing under the attention, her fingers wrapped possessively around his arm. She’s wearing something impossibly elegant–soft silk, deep red, made to cling to every perfect curve. A statement, as if she’s saying, Look at meb. /bLook at what I have. Look at what I won.