Page 151 of Stormbreaker

She grabs the evening bag she borrowed and gestures for Journey to follow.

“I’ll meet you upstairs in a minute,” I say, and they nod before closing the door. I immediately bend down and start gathering my clothes into armfuls.

“I’m sorry,” I say. “I’ll clean this up.”

“Poet,” Rook says. His voice comes out raspy, and it makes me look over. “It’s fine. You’re allowed to exist in this space.”

My shoulders drop, throat knotting at the fierce sincerity in his tone. “Okay. I’ll finish it tomorrow, if that’s all right?”

“It’s definitely all right.”

I drop the pile on one of the empty beds, and I hear his breath hitch. I turn to find him watching me with his jaw a little slack.

I’m wearing a sleeveless, sparkly black romper with shorts that stop right below my butt. My hair is tied into a ponytail to expose the opening that plunges to my lower back. The outfit is completed with tall black boots, some gold hoops, and a bit of makeup.

“You look . . .” he says, rubbing his chin. “Fuck, you look amazing.”

The compliment warms me from the inside out, making my stomach dip.

“You could come with us?” I ask, trying to keep the hope out of my voice. I miss talking to him. I miss being in his presence.

He shakes his head. “No thanks.”

“You sure? You’d be welcome. It’ll be fun.”

He pauses, his gaze tracing over the line of my exposed thigh up past my hips and shoulders encased in glittering black velvet. A breath expels from his chest that feels like an earthquake.

He seems to consider my request. Pick it up, examine it, and then . . . he discards it with another shake of his head. “I don’t think so, but thank you.”

“Okay,” I say, trying not to wear my disappointment like a neon sign.

“Maybe we could hit the gym tomorrow?” he asks, and I return a tentative smile. It’s not much, but it’s a tiny little glimmer of hope. But maybe he’s just being nice.

“I’d love that.”

“Okay, see you tomorrow. Have fun tonight.”

“Thanks.” I cross the room and find my purse, stuffing it with my lipstick and a few other items. The entire time, I think I can feel him trying not to watch me. If I bend over to give him an extra-good view of my butt in these shorty shorts, then it’s totally an accident.

I stand up and peer over my shoulder. He flinches and looks away.

He was definitely staring. My triumph knows no bounds.

“Sorry,” he mumbles and rubs his face.

“See you later,” I say with a wave.

“Have fun,” he says again.

I close the door behind me and lean against it, grinning so hard, my cheeks ache.

55

I hop off our gondola where it’s stopped outside Sogno with Domino and Journey in tow. Music pumps from the building, and dozens of people mill around, waiting for friends, talking, and downing sips from passed-around bottles before they head inside.

The building rises three stories, with large rectangular windows fronted by wide sweeping balconies filled with dancing people. The white marble exterior is ornately carved with flowers, vines, and leaves, while lights flash inside, illuminating the night with bursts of transparent color.

We run up to the bouncer, who gives us a once-over before waving us in.