Page 12 of Chasing The Alpha's Son
Katie ducks between two women in pastel gowns and I take a step to follow her but run into a woman as she steps into my path.
“I’m so sorry!” I splutter, stepping back.
“It’s fine,” Olivia says, looking up and adjusting the strap of her dress which has slipped off her muscular shoulder. Surprise flashes across her face, then something cooler. “Oh, you.”
“Hey Olivia! Sorry, I didn’t see you there.”
“It’s fine,” she grumbles, scowling before taking off without so much as a glance back.
“Okay, Frosty the Snow-Woman, that was weird.”
I stare after Olivia, feeling like roadkill. We were never exactly close but I always thought she found me sort of amusing. Why the cold shoulder now?
Turning back, I’ve lost Katie in the sea of Armani, Dolce, and hors d’oeuvres. I take a few steps, trying to get a better view of the other side of the room, and as I do every hair on my body stands to attention. My lungs stop working and inexplicable tears spring to my eyes. My feet are stuck in place like someone crazy-glued them to the floor.
My eyes dart back and forth, seeking the source of my discomfort. But all I find are unfamiliar faces, bow ties, sequins, jewelry, cuff links—all swirling in a sea of tuxedos and chiffon. And then by some sort of miracle the sea parts. Like clouds rolling away to reveal a full moon, the crowd disperses, creating a path through which I can see all the way across the universe.
And there standing next to a Christmas tree, in a perfectly fitted tux, with his night-black hair slicked back and a knowing, adorable smirk on his face…is Jasper.
A NIGHT AT THE PLAZA
He’s here.
My senses are alive. Multicolored fractals of light are swimming around the edges of my vision. My skin is tingling, my hands trembling. I have to bite my bottom lip to keep it from quivering off my face.
Jasper.
I haven’t seen him in months and he… He looksgood. He has one hand casually dipped into the pocket of his suit pants and the other he runs through his hair. My eyes focus in on all the small details I remember—the pale Milky Way of freckles across his nose, those peach-colored lips, the emerald green of his eyes. Has he somehow become more handsome? Is that even freaking possible?
Someone nudges me as they pass but I don’t register it. I stand in the swirling crowd of fancily dressed people and stare. I’ve been waiting for this moment for months and now it’s finally here. All of the things that were left unsaid are about to come out, if only I can make myself move. Just one foot.
But I can’t. Even though my body is urging me forward, propelling me on a cellular level, I can’t walk just yet. Maybe I’m in shock, my poor little body unable to cope with the adrenaline flooding my system. All I know is that every cliché is true and happening all at the same time. My heart is about to burst out of me, my stomach is stuck in my throat. I wouldn’t be surprised if tiny love hearts were floating in circles around my head.
Why am I waiting?
He invited me here. He wants to speak to me—finally,after all this time!
I take a step and as I do the crowd parts a little farther. I stop in my tracks.
Suddenly I can see who Jasper is talking to—the person he’s grinning at, leaning into, angling his body toward. It’s a guy I’ve never seen before, and oh boy, would I remember if I had. This guy looks like a goddamn Grecian statue. His blond hair is perfectly quaffed with exactly the right amount of curl. His skin is tanned like he’s just come back from summering in the Mediterranean. He’s talking, smiling, probably regaling Jasper with some hilarious story from his most recent trip to the Cape.
My feet are once again stuck in cement, unable to move. My heart is no longer bursting out of my chest; now it’s burning.
Who is this guy? Why does Jasper look so relaxed around him, like he’s enjoying himself? Involuntarily, a low growl rises in my throat and my lips pull back ever so slightly. My fingers curl and my claws press into my palms.
Jasper stops smiling. His nostrils flare. He turns to look at me and the expression on his face is devastating.
His eyes are wide with shock, his mouth a displeased sneer. His brows arch in a way that makes it clear he wasn’t expecting to see me. The truth lands on me like a grand piano falling from the sky.
Jasper didn’t invite me.
His friend glances in my direction, curious as to what’s drawn Jasper’s attention, but he looks straight through me as if I’m not even there.
Before Jasper can turn from me, resume his conversation like I don’t exist, I run.
I push through the hectic ballroom, making for the exit.
“Excuse me!” a woman says as I nudge past and burst through the ballroom doors.
