Becoming Luna: My Triplet Alphas

Chapter 4: It's the feeling

Jaxon: Good luck at family dinner x

Stella: Thanks, I’m gonna need it!

Stella: Rose just threw her broccoli across the dining room, looking at my mom like she’s trying to poison her. My dad thinks it’s the most hilarious thing to ever happen.

Jaxon: To be honest, I would’ve done the same x

Dinner at my parents' house was always a mix of chaos and comfort. The clatter of plates and silverware mixed with overlapping conversations, and the occasional outburst from Rose, my two-year-old niece, kept things lively. Tonight was no exception. Rose had decided broccoli was her mortal enemy, her tiny face contorted in outrage as she hurled it across the room. My dad, of course, found the whole ordeal hysterical.

By the time I escaped to the patio, the cool evening air was a relief. It wrapped around me, calming my nerves as I leaned on the railing, trying to gather my thoughts. I had meant to clear my head, but my phone wouldn’t stop buzzing. Every time Jaxon’s name lit up the screen, my heart fluttered, and my mind replayed the kiss. The passion in it, the way his lips pressed against mine, and the electricity between us made it impossible to focus on anything else.

“Are you going to tell me who it is?” Willow’s voice startled me. She stepped out onto the patio, her flowy maxi dress swirling around her ankles like a watercolor painting come to life. Her sun-kissed skin glowed under the soft light, and her icy blonde hair shimmered as the breeze toyed with it.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said defensively, shoving my phone into my pocket a little too quickly.

Her knowing grin only widened. “Am I really going to have to beat it out of you?” She leaned against the railing beside me, her sharp blue eyes sparkling with amusement.

Willow had always been my go-to person for everything—relationships, advice, even the occasional embarrassing confession. She was the one who held my hair back after my first drink, bought me that pregnancy test during my late-period scare–it turned out negative, thankfully–and coached me through countless moments of teenage drama. If anyone could see through me, it was her.

“It’s new,” I admitted, feeling my cheeks heat up despite the evening breeze.

She practically squealed, her enthusiasm breaking the calm of the night. “Tell me everything!” Her excitement was infectious, and I couldn’t help but laugh.

“Okay, listen to me,” she said, pointing a finger at me as if scolding a child. “I’m in a committed relationship with a two-year-old. My free time is spent with Dora the Explorer. I need this.”

The screen door screeched as it opened, and Bastien stepped out, looking like the epitome of a college football star. His blonde hair stuck up in artful spikes, and his tan made him seem like he belonged on a magazine cover. His ever-present goofy grin widened as he joined us.

“Is she finally confessing?” he teased, leaning casually against the railing on my other side.

“Is it really so obvious?” I groaned, feeling my face flush even more as I rested my head on my crossed arms.

“You’ve been blushing and smiling at your phone all evening,” Willow giggled, poking me in the side.

“Even I noticed,” Bastien added, shaking his head in mock disbelief. “And I’m a guy. I want a name, occupation, and address—so I know where to find him when I have to kick his ass.”

Bastien might have been tall and muscular, but the thought of him trying to intimidate Jaxon made me laugh. Jaxon was on another level entirely. If my little brother ever tried to go up against him, it would be laughable.

“I’ll help,” Willow chimed in, her grin just as mischievous.

“I’m sorry, but you two wouldn’t stand a chance,” I said, smirking as I glanced between them.

“Oh, come on,” Willow whined. “Please tell me you have a picture.”

“Sorry,” I shrugged, feeling my cheeks flare again.

“By God,” Bastien exclaimed dramatically, “what has this man done to you?”

I sighed, shaking my head in disbelief. “He’s perfect. Utter perfection.”

Willow put a hand to her chest, mock swooning. “Oh my, he’s got you good, hasn’t he?”

“How did you meet him?” Bastien asked, his curiosity fully piqued. “I need details—preferably some tips I can use.”

“We met last night—” I began, only to be interrupted by both of them simultaneously.

“Last night?!” they exclaimed, their voices echoing across the yard.

“You want me to tell you or not?” I shot them a pointed look, crossing my arms over my chest.

“Okay,” Willow conceded, holding up her hands in surrender. “Tell us everything.”

I recounted the story from the beginning—how Jaxon had come to my rescue after I’d forgotten my tote bag, how he’d helped me get home, and how he’d asked me out. I described the date in detail: the flowers, the endless conversation, and the undeniable chemistry that had left me reeling. By the time I finished, Willow was sighing dreamily, her expression full of longing.

“Is that really it?” Bastien asked, looking utterly baffled. “All I have to do is pick up some books, take her to brunch, and kiss her?”

I swatted his arm playfully. “It’s not just that,” I insisted, rolling my eyes at his oversimplification.

“Then what?” Bastien asked, his tone carrying the curiosity of someone earnestly seeking advice. He had recently declared that his wild-oats-sowing days were behind him and that he was ready to find his true love. Unfortunately for him, it seemed college wasn’t the greatest place to make that happen.

“It’s the feeling,” Willow answered before I could. Her voice held a calm certainty, a wisdom born from experience. “When you know, you know.”

Willow had met Jasper back in high school. They started as friends, sharing jokes in the cafeteria and going to prom together. Jasper had wanted to take their relationship to the next level, but Willow had insisted on waiting. College was pulling them miles apart, and she wasn’t sure if they could survive the distance. But Jasper had been persistent. He didn’t push too hard, but his gentle determination eventually won her over. After two years of steady persuasion and unshakable devotion, she finally gave in. They got engaged right after graduating college, moved in together, and now, four years later, they were living their happily-ever-after with a beautiful daughter.

“That’s shitty advice,” Bastien grumbled, rolling his eyes as if the idea of love-at-first-feeling was too far-fetched to believe.

“Only because you haven’t met the one yet,” Willow shot back, her grin playful as she pulled me into a sideways hug. “But our sister has.”

“Don’t jinx it!” I protested, my voice rising slightly in mock horror.

“You can’t jinx true love,” Willow sang, her tone lilting as though she were quoting a fairytale.

**

Stella: Okay, major problem.

Lainey: Sounds like a wine type of problem.

Stella: Everything is a wine type of problem to you.

Lainey: Everything’s better with wine, even problems.

Stella: Wine, tomorrow at my place.

Lainey: Be there at five.

After saying what felt like a thousand and one goodbyes to Rose—her tiny arms clinging to me like a koala—I finally managed to extricate myself. I hugged my mom tightly, her familiar perfume a comforting blend of lavender and vanilla, and accepted a container of leftovers that she insisted I take home. My dad received a quick peck on the cheek as he chuckled at some joke only he found funny. I promised my sister I’d keep her updated, ruffled Bastien’s spiky hair–which required me to stand on tiptoe–and finally, I was out the door.

Dining with my family was always an experience. It was chaotic and noisy but also warm and grounding. It was predictable in the best way—every Saturday, like clockwork. A few years ago, I would have groaned at the idea of giving up my weekends to sit around the table with my family. Back then, I wanted to be out partying, living what I thought was my best life. But now, I saw the beauty in these moments.

These dinners gave me a front-row seat to my dad’s endless golfing adventures, which, more often than not, were about the business deals he struck rather than the golf itself. I got to swap recipes and trade gossip with my mom and Willow, our conversations punctuated by laughter. Jasper was always good-natured about my relentless teasing, especially when I joked that he and Willow should have another kid to take the pressure off me. Bastien’s chaotic college stories provided endless entertainment, and seeing Rose grow up right before my eyes—learning new words, running faster every week—was nothing short of magical.

The late summer evening greeted me with a soft, cool breeze as I stepped outside. The air was crisp but not chilly, carrying the earthy scent of freshly cut grass mixed with the faint sweetness of blooming flowers. Above me, the sky was a painter’s palette of oranges, pinks, and purples, the sun slowly dipping below the horizon. Birds chirped their last songs of the day, their melodies a gentle backdrop to my quiet thoughts.

This summer had slipped through my fingers in a haze of long, golden days and balmy nights. The kind of summer that felt endless while it was happening but was gone in the blink of an eye. Soon, the leaves would turn amber and crimson, signaling the arrival of fall. Before I knew it, winter would blanket the world in white, transforming everything into a serene, frozen wonderland. Then spring would come, bringing life back to the world, and summer would roll around again. The seasons spun in an endless loop, each one a reminder of how quickly time moved.

When I was younger, time had felt infinite. Days were long, and summers seemed to stretch forever. But now, as an adult, time felt like it was slipping away faster with each passing year. There were no longer twenty-four hours in a day—more like sixteen. Weeks blurred together, feeling more like four days than seven. Months disappeared in the blink of an eye.

My friends were moving on, building careers, starting families, carving out lives that felt solid and permanent. Meanwhile, I was still floating, living in the gray area between youth and adulthood. I spent my days devouring books, my dad’s financial support allowing me the luxury to indulge in my literary obsessions. Maybe I should have felt guilty or embarrassed by that. Maybe I was entitled.

But in this moment, as I strolled down the quiet street, I didn’t feel shame or self-doubt. I felt content. I felt a deep, unshakable happiness that I couldn’t quite explain. It could have been the warmth of the dinner I’d just had with my family. Or the knowledge that Willow had looked genuinely happy for me, her approval something I hadn’t realized I craved. Maybe it was the thought of Jaxon—the memory of his voice, his laugh, the way his presence seemed to fill every empty space in my life.

Whatever it was, it made me feel alive. The kind of alive that makes your chest swell and your heart beat just a little faster. The kind of alive that whispers promises of new beginnings and endless possibilities.

I smiled to myself as I walked, the fading sunlight casting long shadows on the pavement. For the first time in what felt like forever, I wasn’t overthinking or second-guessing. I wasn’t worried about what tomorrow would bring. I was simply here, in this moment, savoring the quiet joy that filled me from head to toe.

Life wasn’t perfect, and maybe it never would be. But for now, it was enough.