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26
Nathan
Itouched the tips of my fingers together as I waited for Lark. The repetitive motion typically calmed the chaos, but it wasn’t working tonight. I was worried I’d do the wrong thing. Say the wrong thing and fuck this all up.
I thought I already had when I’d questioned her outfit. Her jaw had tightened in anger, but I hadn’t meant to make her upset. It was obvious she was uncomfortable in that ugly black dress. She should wear what she likes even though I was stuck in a suit I hated. But there weren’t choices with men’s fashion.
Lark stepped back into the hall. My fingers stilled. My chest constricted. My cock hardened. She was fucking gorgeous. No, there had to be a better word to describe her.
She was flawless. Ravishing. Sinful.
Her dress was a vivid red, clinging to her curves. But the fabric didn’t shine as bright as her.
She’d taken her hair down, and the curls tumbled around her shoulders. I yearned to run my hands through them. See if they were as soft as I imagined. I wanted to skim over the exposed skin on her neck and feel her pulse, see if it beat harder like mine.
“Well, how do I look?” She asked as she turned. My stomach tightened as I saw how the dress smoothed over the curve of her ass.
“Radiant.” The answer tumbled from my lips before I could consider it. “You look radiant.”
“Thank you.” Her cheeks flushed the same shade as her dress. I’d never made anyone blush before. I wanted to do it again. Craved to see her skin coloring because of me. To see that I affected her. “Ready?”
She reached for her keys, stuffing them in her small beaded purse. I set the gift I’d brought on the table next to her. Her eyes shot up to mine in confusion. “Traditionally, I believe, I’m supposed to bring flowers. But you don’t have any, so I thought maybe you were allergic. Or didn’t like them.”
She opened the bag, pulling out the tumbler cup I’d bought her. It was deep blue on the bottom, with the colors lightening until they became yellow. It reminded me of a sunset. Of her fiery personality.
My gut hardened as she held it in her hands, staring, but not saying anything. “It’s a gift. A gesture.”
“A gesture?” Her brow rose as she looked at me.
“To show you how I feel.” I was doing this wrong. But I didn’t know the right way. “If you don’t like it, I can take it back.”
“No. I love it.” She pulled the cup to her chest as I reached out. “This is better than flowers. Thank you.”
My lungs filled with oxygen. I breathed in relief. I hadn’t fucked this up yet.
* * *
The ceiling of the hotel ballroom had gleaming tiles that made designs featuring gold Greek gods and goddesses. A few cherubs and animals were scattered in the patterns. The chandeliers made them sparkle as crowds gathered inside.
It had once been a theater and there were still red velvet curtains by the stage, which held a podium. In front of it was a wooden dance floor. Tables and chairs, decorated in more gold and shimmer, filled the rest of the space.
People mingled in their best outfits. Smiling and chatting as they sipped expensive champagne. I hated being in places like this. As the leader of our family, Vander often attended these events. He was better at fitting in.
I felt like everyone could see how different I was. They would shift uncomfortably as I said something inappropriate. Whisper about me, trying to hide it behind their hands and fake smiles.
There wasn’t a smile on my face as I walked beside Lark. She seemed familiar with the fancy party. I wasn’t surprised, considering she had grown up with money and her parents worked for the company hosting this event.
“Should we find our seats?” Her sweet voice filtered over the noise, calming the itchiness under my skin.
“If that’s what you want.” She smiled and grasped my hand. Her warmth seeped into me as she led me through the crowd. When she touched me like this, like I belonged to her, I’d follow her anywhere.
Our table was near the front of the room, decorated with white flowers and gold votive candles. There were a few people seated, most didn’t pay us any attention. But a woman with Lark’s dark hair watched us approach. As soon as we were close enough, she stood from her seat.
“Mom, congrat—.” She couldn’t even finish her sentence. Her mother gripped her arm, cutting her off.
“What are you wearing?” She hissed while still keeping the polite smile plastered on her face.
The two bore a striking resemblance. It was like seeing an older version of my Songbird, except her mother’s voice grated on my nerves. It was fake. Polished. My neck twitched as the sound skimmed over me.
