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Now I feel like even worse shit.
I’ll talk to him. Explain the house stuff and then maybe I can salvage whatever this is between us.
The only other outcome is bleak as hell.
CHAPTER 15
Warrick
The venue twinkles like snow under moonlight, and the space is crowded with the sounds of music, glasses clinking, and the hushed whispers of conversation.
I take in the elaborate costumes and masks without really seeing them.
She’ll be here. She has to be.
I enlisted my friends’ help to get my plan moving. Sam said that she’d be here, that she originally intended to ask me to accompany her, but that was before the fight we had. What if she changed her mind?
After a quick trip around the event, I know she’s not here yet, and take up residence near the entryway by the bar area.
People from town occasionally come by and make small talk, but I’m lousy company, my leg jiggling under the table. I fidget with the glass of whiskey that I haven’t had a sip from, wanting to be completely clearheaded when I corner Imp to talk to her.
Please let this work.
Gunnar catches my eye from the dance floor where he’s spinning Sam around and she’s laughing. After a nod in my direction, his attention goes back to his wife, and I people watch for a few minutes. More like, I couple watch.
My friends and the other couples that make up the town look happy. Out for a night of fun after the craze of Christmas with their families.
A flash of green catches my eye, and I turn back toward the door.
She’s wearing an emerald silk gown that sets off the fiery color of her hair that’s gathered up into a sleek twist, showing off the slope of her neck and the delicate line of her collarbones. An ornate mask, the same color as her dress, glitters under the lights.
She came.
The spit in my mouth dries up at the sight of her.
God, she’s so fucking beautiful.
It takes every ounce of my control not to shoot out of my seat and rush her. Instead, I wait as she takes off her coat and hangs it up on one of the many racks that are situated for the guests to use.
Her eyes scan the ball behind her mask, and for a brief second, her gaze skips over mine before finding Sam in the crowd.
Showtime.
I nod toward Gunnar and Sam.
Standing, I adjust my own mask and start toward her. She nods to a few of the people around her, and while her attention is distracted, I slide my hand around her waist. Ducking my head to her ear, I whisper against the shell of it.
“Come with me for a few seconds, please.”
She doesn’t say anything. But the tiny nod she gives me is enough for me to propel us through the crowd and toward the back.
The sounds of music and people quiet as I usher her down the hall. My hand shakes slightly from nerves against her lower back.
With a quick glance around to make sure no one is watching us, I usher her into the storage closet with a firm press to her lower back, then follow her and close the door behind us.
A quick twist to the simple lock on the door ensures we won’t be disturbed, and for the first time in days, I take a full breath.
“War.” The shortened version of my name is a breathy whisper from the woman who I’ve chased for the better part of three years.
