My eyes roamed over the vast mansion before us, its grandeur almost overwhelming. The yard stretched out like the size of our university's open field, and though the night had already settled in, I could just make out the faint reflection of the distant shore, illuminated by the moonlight. The gentle sound of the waves crashing against the rocks reached my ears, bringing with it a sense of calm.

I glanced at Josh and Leroy, their expressions mirroring my own wide-eyed amazement. We exchanged silent looks, and I couldn't help but smile at the shared wonder on their faces.

"Guys, come on!" Brigit called from ahead, her voice light and cheerful. Rhyian stood beside her, waiting patiently, while Roisin and Finn had already gone inside. Instinctively, I looked over my shoulder, wondering if Diarmid was following us.

"He's already inside, getting everything ready for dinner, Arwen," Rhyian teased, her smirk playful. My cheeks flushed instantly, and I quickly turned away, hoping no one noticed my embarrassment.

Inside, the mansion was just as breathtaking as its exterior. The walls were painted a pristine white with accents of gold, and the ceiling seemed to stretch impossibly high. Floor-to-ceiling windows let in the last traces of twilight, casting a soft, dreamy glow throughout the space. Despite its grandeur, the mansion didn't feel cold or distant as I'd expected. Fresh flowers in delicate vases adorned the corners of the room, their vibrant colors adding warmth to the sophisticated decor. The house exuded a refined elegance but still felt like a home—lived-in and welcoming.

Rhyian led us into the living room, where throw pillows lay scattered across large, plush couches. It wasn't messy, just relaxed, like this was their favorite spot to unwind. A large TV, complete with surround speakers and an Xbox, took up one wall. In the far-right corner, I noticed a drum set and a guitar, personal touches that made the room feel more intimate.

"Let's wait for the guys to finish everything in the kitchen," Brigit said with a smile. I returned the smile, though it felt a bit forced as my mind wandered.

"I didn't know you knew that Clayton guy," Brigit added, her tone casual but curious. The smile slipped from my face the moment his name left her lips, and a cold knot of unease settled in my stomach.

"It's... a long story," I replied, my voice quieter than I intended.

Brigit's brow furrowed slightly, sensing the discomfort in my tone, but before she could press further, Rhyian cut in.

"Well, did he do something awful?" Rhyian asked, her expression darkening with concern.

Before I could answer, Josh spoke up, his voice sharp. "He did!" The sudden edge in his tone startled me, and before I could process his words, the sound of shattering glass rang out from the kitchen, instantly snapping our attention toward the noise.

"Oops! Sorry, don't mind that!" Roisin's voice called from behind the kitchen door, sounding slightly sheepish.

The brief interruption was a welcome distraction, but my thoughts lingered on Clayton. The mere mention of him had unearthed memories I'd worked hard to forget. He wasn't just a random guy from my past—he was part of the ghosts I had been trying to bury. My hands trembled slightly, and I clenched them into fists under the table, trying to steady myself.

Brigit must have noticed my change in demeanor because she leaned closer, her voice soft and understanding. "You don't have to talk about it if you're not ready," she said gently, her eyes full of sympathy.

I nodded, grateful for her kindness, but I couldn't shake the feeling that I was running—from Clayton, from the pain he'd caused, from the unresolved heartbreak of Jaimes. The warmth of the mansion felt both comforting and suffocating at the same time, pressing in on me in ways I couldn't explain.

Josh, ever perceptive, placed a hand on my shoulder, squeezing it gently. "You okay?" he whispered, his voice steady, as though he could sense the turmoil bubbling beneath my calm exterior.

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I forced a smile and met his eyes. "I'm fine," I lied, though the tight knot in my chest hadn't loosened.

As we sat in the living room, waiting for dinner, my gaze wandered toward the kitchen more than once. I could hear Diarmid's voice drifting through the air, low and confident as he spoke to Finn and Roisin. Every now and then, I heard a soft chuckle from him, and my heart skipped a beat. The memory of our last conversation—the kiss we hadn't yet talked about—lingered at the edges of my thoughts, making my pulse quicken.

After a few more minutes, Diarmid emerged from the kitchen, and all of my nerves seemed to amplify at once. He had changed into something more comfortable, wearing a crisp white button-up shirt with the sleeves casually rolled up and fitted gray pants that seemed to flow with his every movement. His dark hair was still slightly damp, droplets of water occasionally catching the light.

His eyes found mine across the room, and that familiar, heart-stopping smile spread across his face—slow, sensual, and knowing. It sent a shiver down my spine, and I felt my breath hitch in my throat.

"Dinner is ready, guys—Arwen," he said, his voice rich and velvety as he came to stand directly in front of me. He extended his hand, palm up, with a quiet confidence that was impossible to ignore.

For a moment, I hesitated, my heart pounding. Josh gave me a subtle nod of encouragement, and Brigit grinned, her mischievous expression telling me she knew exactly what was going on. But Diarmid's gaze held me captive, pulling me in. Slowly, almost as if in a trance, I placed my hand in his.

His fingers curled gently around mine, sending a jolt of warmth through me.

Their kitchen didn't disappoint, matching the same level of sophistication and elegance as the living room. White marble countertops gleamed under the soft, ambient lighting, and stainless steel appliances stood out like polished sculptures in an art gallery. It felt like stepping into a page from a luxury magazine, where every detail had been carefully selected to impress. The air was filled with the scent of something delicious simmering, and I couldn't help but think how effortlessly this space reflected Diarmid's lifestyle—refined, yet inviting.

I stole a glance at Josh, who leaned closer and whispered, "This place is insane! Can you believe they live like this?"

Leroy nodded, eyes wide. "Right? It's like being in some modern castle or something."

I chuckled softly, still absorbing the opulence of it all. "I wish they'd give us a house tour. It's not every day you get invited to a place like this."

Josh grinned. "I'm sure Leroy's already planning how he'd redecorate."

Leroy gasped mockingly, clutching his chest. "Excuse me, I'd never change a thing! Well... maybe just a few tweaks," he added with a wink.

Before we could continue, Diarmid appeared, guiding me to my seat at the long dining table. He placed me beside the head of the table, his touch lingering on my lower back as he pulled out the chair for me. The casual intimacy of the gesture sent a ripple of warmth through me. He then took his seat beside me, perfectly centered in the middle, while Josh and Leroy settled next to me on my other side. Across from us sat Finn, already relaxed, and Brigit, who slid into the chair next to him. Rhyian and Roisin filled in the remaining seats, their easy smiles reflecting how at home they felt in this elegant space.

Diarmid caught my gaze as we all got settled. "Comfortable?" he asked, his voice low and smooth.

I nodded, trying not to let the butterflies in my stomach get the better of me. "Yeah... it's beautiful."

"Good," he replied, his lips curling into that signature smile that made my pulse race.

My eyes were then drawn to the table, which was adorned with an abundance of food that looked almost too beautiful to eat. "Looks like we're about to have a feast," Josh commented, rubbing his hands together in anticipation.

Finn nodded, a grin on his face. "We don't do simple meals here."

In front of us, a mouthwatering display of both Italian and Asian cuisine spread across the table. Platters of pasta dishes gleamed under the soft light. There was a large bowl of pesto linguine, its vibrant green basil sauce glistening with olive oil and sprinkled with roasted pine nuts and fresh Parmesan. Next to it was a tray of lasagna, with its golden, melted cheese layered over rich Bolognese sauce, each slice oozing with savory goodness. A charcuterie board was laid out with thinly sliced prosciutto, salami, and various cheeses, beautifully arranged alongside olives, roasted peppers, and crusty bread.

Toward the center of the table was the Asian selection, featuring sushi rolls neatly arranged on delicate plates. Each roll looked like a small piece of art, filled with fresh tuna, salmon, and avocado, topped with thin slices of seaweed. Beside the sushi were sashimi and nigiri, the fish glistening with freshness. Steaming bowls of ramen sat next to them, their rich broth filled with soft-boiled eggs, tender pork slices, and seaweed. There were also stir-fried noodles and golden shrimp tempura,