Page 50 of A Sinful Gravity

He didn't push, just said, "Don't force it. I'll drive you home after rehearsal."

I didn't refuse. I nodded and drank some water.

Stop worrying, Luna. Laila's with Chloe. She's safe. I kept telling myself, adjusting my state.

At ten o'clock, the rehearsal finally ended. I opened my phone to find lots of video messages from Chloe.

In the videos, Laila's smile stretched ear to ear. She played and waved happily at the camera. The last message—Chloe said she'd take Laila to the arcade for a bit longer, might be back late.

Watching Laila's happy face, I replied, "Okay." Then I changed, grabbed my bag, and walked out the theater's employee entrance.

The night wind cut cold. Heavy clouds made the streetlights look even more yellow. When Seb dropped me at the apartment building, light rain had started.

I texted Chloe first, told her it was raining, and to come back early. Then I grabbed my umbrella and got out, telling Seb not to bother walking me.

I pulled out my keys and approached the apartment. Lifting the umbrella to open the main door, I froze.

A tall figure leaned against the wall, hands in pockets, ash-blond curls already dampened by rain. He looked up, saw me, and his eyes lit up instantly.

Cassian.

He stood there like he'd been waiting forever. Suit jacket draped casually over his shoulder, shirt collar open two buttons, exposing the line of his collarbone with water droplets trailing down.

I felt nailed to the ground. My heart pounded like it would explode.

He took a step forward, voice rough. "Luna."

Chapter Twelve

Cassian

I pulled into the neighborhood before the rain started. The sky hung heavy and dark, streetlights flickering like they might die any second.

I stepped out of the car and stared at the apartment building across the street. Six stories of old brick, beige walls turned slate gray from the weather, patches peeling to show rusty red underneath.

Two blocks east, and you're in the worst part of town. I'd had it checked—two break-ins last month alone.

When I found out the Royal Ballet housed their staff here, I could hardly believe it.

Luna. My Luna. Living in a dump like this? She used to bitch about five-star hotel mattresses being too firm. Now she's climbing grimy stairs every damn day?

I clenched my fists, knuckles turning white. She could've had better.

I stood there in the shadows. Waiting.

Raindrops started falling. I didn't move, letting the damp soak in.

Finally, a figure appeared under a deep blue umbrella. White trench coat I knew too well, flat shoes splashing through puddles.

Luna.

My eyes lit up, but then I frowned. That umbrella didn't look like hers.

She froze when she saw me. Tilted the umbrella up, streetlight catching her face, but I couldn't read her expression.

I took a step forward, voice shaky from the cold and the rush. "Luna."

She stepped back, umbrella higher like a shield. "How the hell do you know where I live?"