Page 49 of Aquarius
Five songs later, he’s still acting as my shield. This whole time, we’ve talked shop, because that’s where our passions lie.
“Twenty minutes, this guy went on about tax write-offs.”
“It’s a good thing you decided to dance with me, then. I saved you from boredom.”
“That you did.”
Boring is its own kind of gift, though. Like his nights recently. He hasn’t suffered a single episode since his sleepwalking incident in the kitchen. No more screaming or wandering through the house in the middle of the night.
Did talking to someone, if only briefly, help release the pressure valve just a little?
I hope so, for his sake.
By the next song, his hand has grown warm between my shoulder blades. A handful of guests have slipped out, but the party’s still in full swing. I’m the one fading, the adrenaline that carried me through the evening bottoming out.
Hugo’s leading me off the dance floor when Liam comes into view again, heading straight for me as if I’m the only one in the room.
But unlike earlier, his mouth draws down in concern. “You seem tired.”
“It’s been a long night.”
“Which means you need pampering. Itisyour birthday, my sweet girl. Are you ready to get out of here?”
Leave the ball? More than ready. Spend the rest of the night in his penthouse, just the two of us?
Not even a little.
And yet I can’t deny that part of me tingles with something suspiciously close to anticipation.
I turn to Hugo. “Thank you for the dances, and for an unforgettable evening.”
“Of course, my queen.”
I slide my hand into Liam’s waiting grip, and he turns us toward the doors. Whatever he means to tell me is waiting upstairs, making my pulse trip ahead of my feet.
As we reach the main doors, they burst open, and my heart slams to the bottom of my gut. All at once, the voices cut out, and the room drops into a strange hush, as if everyone’s been suspended in time.
A camera flashes, breaking through the collective breath-hold. More flashes, then the murmurs reach a fever pitch as chatter spreads through the crowd like wildfire. My hand slips from Liam’s, my legs already taking me past the press and the whispers.
All the people who bought the lie.
Because he’shere.
“Sebastian.”
His name rips out of me, soaring through the ballroom on a joyous cry as I fling myself into his arms, fallout be damned.
