Date.
I’m his date.
Everyone went crazy taking more photos.
How did you tie him down?
How did you meet?
My throat closed. The flashes were bright and hot. Grayson slipped his hand from my waist, sliding it between my fingers. He said something to them I didn’t catch, spellbound by our joined hands in public. My heart pounded as we ascended the red carpeted steps, floating higher. The paparazzi flanked us on either side. What world had I fallen into? I was a movie star. I was in a fairy tale.
Inside the library, the lights were dimmed, and a glow and faint sound of big band music filtered out from someplace unseen. Yet he stopped, gripping my shoulders.
“Breathe,” he said.
I sucked in a breath and exhaled, suddenly realizing I hadn’t been breathing. At my big breath, Grayson smiled softly.
“This is a lot,” I admitted.
He shrugged. “This is my life.”
He thumbed my lip, a dark, possessive look consuming his features. He pulled me forward, crashing his lips against mine.
Lips still pressed to mine, he said, “I’ll never get enough of your lips, Story Hale.”
Then he gripped my hand in his, and we entered.
Multiple stories of lea
ther-bound books flanked by towering Grecian columns. It was beautiful, ancient, intimidating.
I spotted Tansy Crowne and instinctively tensed. A little way away from her, Lottie du Lac smiled with her friends, the same ones who had so very recently tormented me. Grayson’s friends, if he still called them that, leaned against a column, looking bored. Everyone in this room was dressed in the finest silks and satins, but all I saw were sharks.
I might be dolled, Grayson might have told the paparazzi I was his date, but I did not belong here.
Tansy gestured for Grayson to come with a crook of her finger.
“If I don’t go now, it will be a thousand times worse for us later.” He looked at me, worry creasing lines in his smooth forehead.
“Go,” I said. “I’ll be fine.”
GRAY
* * *
On my way to my mother I was stopped by Lottie’s yell.
“You brought her here? How could you do that?”
Tears glimmered in her eyes. Around us, partygoers turned to watch, eager for gossip.
“Shit, Lottie, this isn’t how I wanted to do this.” I caught her elbow, dragging her someplace more private. “I was going to talk to you later.”
I caught Snitch’s eye before we disappeared, concern and question writ across her usually smooth face.
Lottie’s shoulders dropped. “You’re taking her as a mistress.”
“No, fuck no. I can’t go through with it”