GRAYSON

The masks that people wore at masquerade balls didn't hide a damn thing. I hated how in TV shows and movies they made it seem like that little strip over the eyes could actually trip up someone's identity.

A mask like that could never hide Nessa from me. After all, I'd spent too many goddamn nights lying awake, thinking about those lips of hers. Tonight they were red and pouty, matching a dress that plunged in the front, revealing more of her than I cared to share with the world.

Seeing Nessa walk into the gala was a punch in the gut. A hurricane of emotions. I'd known she was going to be here tonight. I'd seen her carrying the gala flyer in the hallway that day. But holy shit, she was a vision. A vision on some other guys' arm.

I almost missed a note.

Almost.

And then that blonde dude who walked like he had a stick up his ass kissed the back of Nessa's hand like he was Prince Charming or some shit, and I did miss a note.

Not that anyone noticed.

When my theory professor asked if I wanted this gig at the Cardairel Hotel, I snatched up the opportunity as fast as I fucking could. Making a handful of cash to do something I loved and scoring a chance to see Nessa? It was a no-brainer.

Not to mention, I needed the distraction. Something hadn't been sitting right in my chest for over a week, and I finally caved, scheduling an appointment with Dr. Martinez. And then I came back afterward to Nessa screaming at me in the hallway for something I didn't even do. And fuck if that didn't make my heart hurt even more.

Concentrating on this Debussy piece was damn hard when all I wanted was to keep an eye on the table where Nessa sat. When I'd first caught sight of her, she was beside Madie and across from Beau, and I relaxed, getting lost in Debussy again. She was barely even talking to Prince Charming.

But then I started the Liszt, and by the time I'd finished, packed up my things, and found the event coordinator to relieve me, the lights had dimmed. And I looked over to see Nessa sitting alone.

Well, Beau was there. But he was laughing with a curly-haired girl across the table from Nessa. Madie was there, too, but she was lounging on the lap of a guy I didn't recognize. They seemed...well-acquainted.

Nessa had an odd look on her face as she looked across the table at her friends, and I strode across the ballroom with determination.

"My date was sitting there, Grayson," she scoffed when I dropped into the seat beside her.

Not a lick of surprise crossed my face. Instead, I flashed her a grin. "He's not here now."

As soon as the words slipped through my lips, I bit my tongue. Sadness leaked into Nessa's eyes. And I hated it, even more than I hated that she was sad about some other guy.

"His loss," I murmured, trying to make up for my other comment.

Nessa flashed me a dismissive look, but I didn't miss the way her lips wobbled. This girl was always trying to be tough and hard when really she was soft and sweet.

"Fuck, they barely lasted like ten minutes!'

Beau's outburst across the table had Nessa's face lighting up and both of us swiveling to see him staring after Madie and the guy I didn't know. They were making their escape, crossing the dance floor in quick steps.

"That's fifty dollars. Pay up, B!" Nessa said with a laugh. She stuck her hand out, wiggling it in Beau's direction.

He groaned in response, turning back toward us. "Girl, you know I don't carry cash."

Nessa heaved an overly dramatic sigh before flopping back in her seat. "Fine, I can wait."

Beau grinned cheekily at her before paying attention to his date again, leaving Nessa and me to ourselves. I couldn't help but match Beau's smile as I looked over at her; it was infectious. So was she.

Maybe it was that spirit that made me lean over to Nessa. "Dance with me?" I asked.

I didn't dance. Of all the skills I possessed, dancing wasn't one of them. This wasn't part of my strategy, not even a little bit, and I immediately kicked myself for even suggesting it. But at the same time, I hoped to God she'd say yes.

Nessa rolled her eyes over to me.

"You want to dance?" she drawled.

I shrugged. "We're at a ball. That's what you do at a ball, isn't it?"

"It's a gala," she corrected.

"Same difference, Adler."

"Fine. It's better than watching these two fall in love right before my eyes." Nessa flicked her wrist toward Beau and her date.

Trying to control my eagerness, I stood slowly and extended my hand out to her. She looked at it once. And then blinked up at me. And then back at my hand before finally taking it.

I smiled.

"Who was the guy with Madie?" I asked as I led her out onto the dance floor. A sultry pop singer was on the small stage now, leading the dancers to sway synchronized in the open space.

Nessa brushed her hair over her shoulder before laying her other hand tentatively in my open palm. She faced me, blinking up. "Oh, that's Bren."

"Bren?" I repeated. That name rang a bell in my head. And then it clicked. "The guy you used to work with?"

Or more importantly, the only other person besides Madie that she said she'd willingly sing for.

For some reason, when I'd conjured up a picture in my head of this guy, he was of some kind of badly dressed hipster with a nose piercing. Not a dark-haired mystery man in a well-tailored tux. He might have suited up for the special occasion, but still. Bren wasn't what I'd imagined.

Nessa cleared her throat. "Yeah, but he was also Beau's roommate before he dropped out for the year. According to Beau, he fell in love with Madie the day they moved into the dorms. He met her in the kitchen, and he was a goner from day one. But of course, she was still with Quinton."

"Is that why Quinton and Madie broke up?"

I didn't see Reid as the kind of guy who'd be chill with another guy crushing on his girl.

Nessa tilted her head side to side as if debating. "Yes and no. In my opinion, Bren was annoyingly respectful of their relationship, considering how many bruises Madie showed up with. But he was the one that woke her up, showed her that she shouldn't settle for that."

I nodded, not knowing what else to say. I dared to slide my hand to Nessa's waist, tugging her in closer to me. But not too close. A respectful distance lingered between us as we began to sway with the rest of the crowd.

Nessa swallowed before her dark eyes met mine. "Bren grew up in an abusive home, so it was hard for him to watch," she added, quiet enough that I could barely hear her over the music. "I think being around her hurt him at first. His family life is...complicated."

I held her gaze. "It sounds like it was good that she had him, though. And good that she had you, too. You're a good friend, Nessa."

She blinked. I saw the way her chest rose and fell, showing me that even though we were barely touching, she felt it. She felt me or what I'd said or something. Music swirled around us, but I could have sworn my heart was louder. It took everything in me not to crush us together.

And then she whispered to me.

"I thought you might be mad at me."

"Mad at you?"

"For yelling at you in the hallway. For assuming you hurt Madie."

"Not mad. A bit wounded, maybe. That you'd honestly think I'd do that." I shook my head. "But not mad. As I said, you're a good friend. And I know that you were just being protective."

"I'm sorry," she murmured. "I—never mind."

I wanted to know what she was going to say. But silence fell over us, and part of me was scared to disrupt it. Nessa stared at me, oddly quiet. Hauntingly pretty. I brushed my thumb in circles on the small of her back even though it reminded me that the dress beneath my fingers was silky and thin. Hardly a barrier between my skin and hers.

"And you?" I asked. "Are you still mad at me?"

She bit her bottom lip before letting it go, absolutely destroying me with the slow, sensual slide between her teeth. "I don't know."

Well, it was better than a yes.

"You don't know?"

She sighed, tossing her head back and staring at the ceiling as we continued our dance. A kaleidoscope of sparkling lights danced across her face.

"I don't know how I feel about you, Grayson," she admitted, talking to the sky. She dipped further, and I inched my hand up, supporting the curve of her back. "Describing my feelings when it comes to you is impossible. I've stopped trying."

My throat ran dry, and there was only one thing I could think of saying.

"Good."

Her head snapped up. "Good?"

"Good. I want you to stop thinking so hard, Adler."

She inched closer to me, putting a hand on my chest. "But what will happen?"

I dared to take a step in so I could murmur in her ear. "Who knows? That's the best part."

It was our motif, this conversation. Me, urging her to let go. And Nessa, desperately holding onto something I didn't understand.

We danced, on and on. A breath away, we danced. Nessa was hesitant and unsure in my arms, and all I wanted was for her to melt. To mold into me so I could hold her like I wanted to.

But if Julian were here, he'd tell me that would be my dick talking and not my head. Strategy was the name of the game tonight.

"Take a walk with me?" I breathed in her ear. "There's a nice terrace that leads out to the back garden."

Romance. I could do this. The setting couldn't be more perfect for it. If I failed tonight, then I would probably conclude that something was wrong with me.

Nessa looked over at me, skepticism in her gaze. And then she nodded, and I could have fist-bumped the air.

"But only because it's getting stuffy in here," she drawled.

"Of course. I would never, ever assume that you would go anywhere with me for my sake, darling."

Nessa rolled her eyes, but a small smile slipped into its place on her gorgeous face, and I would take it. She even held onto my hand as I led her off the dance floor.

"You are breathtaking tonight," I said, glancing over my shoulder. "You realize that, right?"

She cleared her throat, looking down at her feet as we walked. "Right back at ya, Wilder," she murmured before peeking up at me, mischief in her eyes.

Fuck. My heart wasn't going to survive.

The air outside was chilly but bearable. Mainly because it gave me the perfect excuse to offer Nessa my jacket. She accepted and curled up in it like she was making a cocoon around her.

"Why are you doing all this, Grayson?"

Always worrying about my motives, this one. It was time I figured out why.

I shrugged. "Trying to cheer you up."

She looked offended. "Who said I need cheering up?"

"Your face earlier," I said softly. "Your date was a jerk, by the way. To leave you in the middle of the night like that."

She nodded, confirming my assumption that he'd ditched her as she looked down at her hands. They rested on the terrace railing. "Just another name to add to the long list of guys who are just out for one thing."

I grimaced, keeping my eyes on the shadowy garden. A luminous glow flooded out from the ballroom, casting patches of light over the greenery. "I wanted to talk to you about that."

I felt Nessa's eyes fall on me.

"About what?"

Turning, I faced her. "About how I'm not one of those guys."

She started to shake her head, but I caught her chin.

"I'm not," I assured her.

Nessa froze as our gazes locked together.

"Tell me," I said softly. "That night in your room. You said that you didn't want to make the same mistake twice. Tell me about the first time."

She wrinkled her nose. "Why do you want to know?"

I released my grip on her, letting my hand slide down her throat instead. When I reached her chest, I forced myself to drop it to my side. "Because I'm determined for that not to happen again. Not with me, Nessa."

She shuddered as the wind whipped through the air.

"Okay."

I raised a hopeful brow. "Okay?"

"Okay," she whispered. "I'll tell you."

💗

the night has begun
I'm curious...any predictions or hopes?
xoxo amelie