Page 142 of Beautiful When He Breaks

Luca looks at me and Julian, his expression a mix of amusement, relief, and something softer he’d probably deny if I named it. “For the record, I’m happy for you both. Also, for the record, Ryan is no longer allowed to ask household questions before coffee.”

Ryan gasps and places a hand over his heart. “Censorship.”

“Public safety,” Sage corrects.

Roman lifts his mug slightly toward us. “Congratulations.”

Liam’s mouth softens as he looks at Mila in my arms, then at me, then at Julian. “About time.”

“About time?” I repeat, and the embarrassment gives way to offense because that feels easier. “How many of you knew?”

Adrian, who has said almost nothing so far, chooses that exact moment to glance toward Thorn and Roman. Roman glances back and Thorn grins around his sucker.

I narrow my eyes at them. “What?”

“No,” Julian groans beside me, suddenly alert, and Thorn’s grin widens.

Roman sighs and reaches into his pocket. Adrian does the same with significantly less visible emotion, though the tiny crease near his mouth gives him away. They each pull out cash and hand it to Thorn, who accepts it with the serenity of a man receiving tribute.

My mouth falls open as I realize what’s happening. “You bet on us?” I demand.

Thorn folds the money once and tucks it away. “Technically, we bet on the reveal.”

“The reveal,” Julian repeats.

“The relationship was obvious,” Adrian says. “The uncertainty was timing and trigger event.”

Roman nods. “I had confession after a major emotional breakdown.”

“That’s extremely specific,” Damon says.

Roman gives him a look. “This house runs on major emotional breakdowns.”

Adrian gestures toward Thorn. “He had Ryan saying something inappropriate after an audible incident.”

Thorn’s grin turns unbearable. “I know my people.”

“I am honored to be recognized as a catalyst,” Ryan says, sounding surprisingly sincere.

“You are recognized as a liability,” Luca says.

“How much?” Julian asks, and there is enough menace in his voice that Thorn’s grin flickers.

“Twenty each,” Thorn says.

I stare at him. “That’s it?”

Julian turns to look at me. “That’s what you’re mad about?”

“I’m insulted. Our epic love story is worth forty bucks?”

Ryan points at me. “That is the right reaction.”

Liam groans. “Please don’t encourage the gambling ring.”

I should be furious. I should be mortified beyond recovery. I am still mortified, to be clear. Somewhere in the back of my mind, last night is still replaying in flashes of hands and mouths and the sounds Ryan apparently heard enough of to traumatize an entire breakfast.

But the bigger feeling unfolding under the embarrassment is something dangerously close to happiness. “Together, huh?” I murmur.