Page 110 of Ballrooms & Blackmail

I grit my teeth together.

Because…pathetic.

So damned pathetic.

“You need another drink,” Briar murmurs, pressing a flute of bubbling punch into my hand.

“I need my fictional man to appear like magic and sweep me off to his castle.”

“How about a penthouse?” she quips.

Heart leaping, dreams of Thorn sweeping over, taking my hand, and guiding me onto the dance floor flashing through my mind, my gaze flies to the doors again, expecting that this time I’ll see him?—

But he’s not there.

“Ah, honey. Shit,” she says, squeezing my arm. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean?—”

“It’s good.” I shrug. “I just…” I bite the inside of my cheek and make a clumsy change of topic. “This is really beautiful. Thanks for finding it.”

Sad blue eyes on mine. “You’re welcome. I?—”

“Milady,” we hear and turn to see Brooks standing there, his arm outstretched.

Wearing a matching “outfit” of velvet and ivory embroidery, a thin, silver crown perched on his head.

So much for wearing a suit.

Despite my misery, my mouth curves.

Because the other men have similarly caved—Rome in pale pink, King matching Rory in sapphire, Jean-Michel in burgundy, Jace in silver.

“You look great,” I say.

He winks then turns to Briar. “Will you give me the honor of this dance?”

Briar’s worried gaze comes to mine.

“Go,” I order.

“But—”

“Go.”

Brooks sweeps her away, and I slip into the crowd, sipping my drink.

All around me, people laugh and dance and pose for photographs.

Marie and Jace join Brooks and Briar on the dance floor. Tiff and Jean-Michel are involved in a serious discussion about a fictional TV show. Rory somehow joins a sword demonstration despite her baby belly—and she kicks ass at it, King grinning from the sidelines. Rome and Chrissy watch the display, though Rome spends most of it staring at Chrissy like she hung the moon.

The entire space is full of magic and love and?—

Not Thorn.

Sighing, I make a slow circle of the ballroom.

He’s not coming. He told me the truth and…now he’s what? Retreating because he saw exactly what he expected? Hiding because he’s convinced himself rejection is inevitable?

It makes me want to scream.