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I can’t stop looking at his hands, the way his muscles flex in his forearms and those goddamn tattoos.

He is completely derailing my focus.

“Is that a yes, Bow-Peep?”

I turn towards Julian, who is leaning against the piano after our practice session with the kind of effortless ease that I have spent the last year being annoyed by. His playful smirk flattens into something more serious as he waits for my answer.

I stare at him for another moment, my brain lagging behind. “Sorry… run that by me again.”

“The gala.” He straightens slightly, pushing off the polished wood. “My father’s thing on the tenth. I am asking if you want to come.” A pause. “With me.”

I blink, completely caught off guard. “As in… together.”

“As in together, yes.”

“Like…” The word feels strange in my mouth before I have even let it out. “Like a date?”

Something shifts in his expression. It isn’t discomfort, more like the realisation is catching up with him in real time, like he hadn’t quite thought this through before opening his mouth. He runs a hand through his hair and down the back of his neck, the same restless gesture that I am quickly beginning to recognise.

“Well, yeah,” he says casually. “I suppose it would be a date… if you want it to be? If you want to come with me?”

I see a faint, subtle blush appear on his cheeks.

Julian Thorne never blushes. This is new.

“Don’t you want to ask someone else?” The question pops out before I can stop it, carrying the insecurity I have been trying to shield behind a causal tone. I look down at my boots. “Nancy would probably be a better fit for an event like that. I know you two have—”

“Bloody hell. No.” The words come out flat and immediate, his English accent sharp around the edges. He blinks at me, clearly irritated by the mere suggestion. “I don’t want to ask her. If I did, I would have. I’m asking you, Ellise. I want you to come with me.” Another pause. “As a date.”

I look up at him.

His usual arrogance is still there, but underneath it, in the unblinking intensity of his dark eyes—the way he is just staring at me, I can see that this is costing him something massive.

Julian Thorne does not ask for things.

Julian Thorne does not make himself vulnerable for someone to say no.

And yet, here he is.

For God’s sake, Ellise. Say something.

“Okay,” I finally reply, keeping my voice as calm as I can manage when my heart is doing something completely unreasonable. “Yes. I will come with you.”

As a date... Ahh.

“Good,” he says simply, trying to sound casual and act like it’s no big deal while I am practically combusting at the thought.

“What are these things actually like?” I ask, trying my best to be casual. “And what’s the dress code?”

“It’s black tie. There will be board members, the New York elite…”

“Got it… pretty posh, then?”

He pauses. “Yeah. I suppose it is.” He exhales deeply through his nose. “I’ve got to perform as well. A direct request from my father. Correction… he told me.”

I let that sit for a moment, processing the cold edge in his tone.

“What are you going to play?”