Page 74 of Embrace

Sierra’s been so excited to do this for Dylan, it must mean something more than we’ll ever know. If it doesn’t happen, I can’t imagine how upset she’d be.

“Can you get him out of the house before the party? If everyone helps, we’ll get it done quick.”

Kian rubs the back of his neck, and his biceps bunch with the movement.Focus, Scar.

“No, no, it’s okay. I promised I’d figure it out. I’ll do it. You don’t have to worry.”

I cross my arms, staring up at him with my most serious look. “Ishida. Let me help you.”

A low, rumbling chuckle slips out of him. “Ishida?” His head tilts, a slow smile spreading across his face. “I like it when you call me that.”

“Like it how?” My voice comes out softer, more sultry than I mean it to. It’s the kind of voice I’d use on my hookups. I’ve never used it on Kian.

But then his gaze dips to my lips and back to my eyes. The look is brief, but it manages to shoot electricity straight to my toes and my pulse kicks. He’s never done that before, or at least, I’ve never noticed.

His throat works as he swallows, eyes intimidatingly steady on mine. “In the same way you like it when I call you Scar.”

The silence stretches, thick and charged, until—

“Is this too much?” Sierra’s voice cuts through it.

I stumble away from Kian the moment Sierra steps out of her room. She’s wearing all black. A corset, fishnets, a short skirt, and the Ghostface mask.

“Holy hottie,” I say, staring at her with my jaw hanging open. “It’s perfect, Si.”

“Dylan is going to love that,” Kian says, his voice dripping with mischief.

Sierra pulls off the mask and rolls her eyes. “I’m not wearing it for him.”

“But heistaking it off,” we both mutter.

Sierra gives us the finger before slamming her bedroom door shut.

We burst out laughing.

•••

I told myselfI wouldn’t drink tonight. There’s too much locked in my subconscious that shouldn’t be released by drunken words.

We finished setting up Dylan’s surprise an hour ago. Kian’sfriends helped us blow up the balloons and make sure Dylan was out of the house. When I got back to the dorm, Sierra was ready, so I changed into my Padmé costume.

The moment we stepped inside the hockey house, Sierra was pulled away by a shirtless Ghostface. I’ve been spending the past few minutes trying not to stare at the pair of them pressed against the far wall.

If it’s not them, it’s Anakin Skywalker who’s imprinted on my pupils. Kian’s costume covers his body, but he still manages to fill it out extremely well.

But the thing about Kian is that everyone wants to party with him. He’s either hanging with his teammates or the sorority girls, or singing karaoke with Summer onstage. I expected that, for Kian to be pulled in every direction, fulfilling everyone’s needs.

So I dance. I drink. I get tipsy faster than I mean to—probably that shot of Everclear some girl handed me. It burned going down but left a strange kind of calm behind. No one comes up to me. Not even the guys I half remember kissing at parties like this. They just nod in passing, their eyes already somewhere else. It feels so good to just be.

With a renewed burst of energy, I leave the dance floor, hoping to soothe my scratchy throat. I barely make it two steps before colliding with a broad chest. The heat of his costume hits me first, dizzying and close, but the second his scent reaches me, everything else disappears.

Kian.

“You okay, Scar?” he asks, lifting my chin gently.

I pour into his arms like water, letting his hands do all the heavy lifting. I know he’s capable of it. My eyes close on their own accord. It’s almost as if when I’m near him, I go lax.

Kian chuckles softly, and the sound dances along my skin. “Let’s get you some water, sweetheart.”