Alex Sebring

My surgery was weeks ago. It’s been long days of ice packs, stiff muscles, and slow, stubborn steps. Weeks of staring down the ugly reality that my body isn’t invincible—and maybe never was.

The boot is gone. The crutches are leaning useless in a corner. I’m walking again, careful and measured like some old man trying not to snap in half. Every step is a reminder: don’t screw this up. Don’t rush. I pushed too hard last time, chasing something that slipped through my fingers anyway. I’m not making that mistake again.

Magnolia’s soft humming drifts from the kitchen, pulling me out of my head. The scent of chicken and a buttery decadence wafts through the penthouse as I sit on the couch, an ice pack battling the swelling in my ankle.

I watch her move—barefoot, hair piled up in a messy bun, humming along to the song playing over the speakers. God, I love seeing her like this. Not dressed up, not guarded—simply Magnolia.

My American beauty knocks the breath right out of my lungs. Need hits me low and hard, the way it always does when I least expect it. Not just for her body pressed against mine, not only for the high I get when she smiles at me like I’m her favorite thing. But for this.

My phone buzzes against the cushion beside me. I pick it up, thumb sliding across the screen to find a text from Elias: a selfie of him and Violet on a rooftop bar somewhere, sunglasses on, toasting each other with cocktails.

I chuckle. “Looks like Violet’s giving Elias the full Charleston experience.”

“Oh, I’m certain he’s getting the full experience all right. But it’s not the Charleston experience he’s getting. It’s the full Violet experience.”

Magnolia reaches for a bowl in an upper cabinet, the stretch of her body doing things to me that I don’t need right now.

I don’t know Violet well, but Magnolia has told me plenty about her best friend. And if even half of it’s true, Elias doesn’t know what he’s gotten himself into. “Should I be worried?”

She flashes me a wicked grin, all sin and sass. “Only if he can’t keep up.”

I raise a brow, playing along. “Yeah? What does that involve?”

Magnolia pauses, spoon still in her hand, and turns toward me, her mouth curved in a slow, wicked smile. “If he’s lucky? A lot of stamina. Possibly a little property damage. A few things that would make Malie blush.”

Yeah. I bet Violet’s giving him an experience. And judging by the stupid expression on Elias’s face in this picture, he’s enjoying the hell out of whatever’s happening.