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I shook my head, pushing the errant thoughts away. I’d waited all year for the masquerade ball, and though I had originally thought I’d be attending with Adam on my arm, I was determined to enjoy every minute.
Besides, you never knew when you might meet your Prince Charming.
My gaze drifted over my appearance. I’d gone with my hair half-up, half-down. The Cinderella-style ball gown flared out in a gauzy poof of lilac tulle with a fitted bodice and a sweetheart neckline. I had no idea what kind of gowns the other girls would wear, but I hoped they weren’t all sleek and fitted.
I reached beside me and grabbed another bobby pin from the little jar on my desk and pinned back a loose tendril that had fallen into my face, then ran a comb through the loose waves falling over my shoulders when a knock on my door alerted me to someone’s presence.
Mia popped her head into my room. “Still hoping Prince Charming shows?”
“You just never know,” I said, with a grin, though my heart wasn’t in it, not like it should be. “You’re sure you won’t go with me?”
She shook her head, eyeing my cotton candy dress. “No way, but you look super pretty.”
“Thanks. It’s not too much?” I asked, eyeing the elbow length silk gloves I wore.
“No way. You look like a princess. Do you have a mask?”
I held the white lace mask up to my face; it covered everything but my chin.
“Nice.”
“Do you have plans?”
She leaned against the doorframe and crossed her arms over her chest. “Ethan and I are hanging out.”
Of course they are.
“Listen, about all the things you said . . .”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”
“No.” I placed a hand over her shoulder to stop her. “Maybe you were right. I don’t know.” I paused for a moment, collecting my thoughts. “I’m still working it out.”
She nodded and took this as the peace offering it was. “So what are you hoping to get out of tonight?” she asked, eyeing me closely. “Hoping for some hot prince to sweep you off your feet? Be the Prince Charming to your Cinderella?”
She was joking, mostly. I could tell by the tone of her voice. But I hated that she was right, and it served as a reminder of how well she knew me.
Barry’s face flashed in my head; the feel of his soft lips and the way he took control during our kiss. Part of me felt terrible for avoiding him all week. Ever since I’d met him, he’d been full of surprises. But I’d been scared, when in reality, I knew, deep down, he was someone I could risk my heart for. He was someone I could trust.
But when you’re looking for any excuse to push someone away, you find it.
I entered the ballroom from the top of the stairs, and my eyes wandered as I slowly descended them. Chandeliers dripped from the ceiling, casting a glow of golden light and tiny rainbows over the walls. A gleaming marble dance floor sat empty at one end of the room, too early for anyone to break the ice and dance, despite the DJ set up beside it, music blaring from his massive speakers. Everyone was dressed in formalwear. Ballgowns of all shapes and sizes in every color of the rainbow dotted the ballroom, while most of the boys wore the traditional black tuxedo with the exception of a couple outliers. Despite the masks covering their faces, I could identify most of them, especially the group of five beside the punch bowl.
I took the last few steps until my feet hit solid ground, eyeing JT as he spiked the mocktail with a clear liquid from a silver flask while Luca stood guard. Tiered silver platters piled high with cookies, Petit fours, and fussy finger sandwiches sat on the silk-draped tables beside them. When Luca turned to me and slung an arm around my shoulders, I could tell by the smell of his breath and JT’s obnoxious laughter they’d already imbibed their fair share of booze prior to coming.
I subtly shrugged out from under his arm, scanning the faces for a few of my other friends, hoping to find Barry among them, disappointed when he wasn’t. Though there was still plenty of time, I couldn’t help but wonder if he might not show since I’d all but given him the cold shoulder following our kiss.
Time slipped by excruciatingly slow, despite chatting with several of my girlfriends. A small number of couples moved onto the dancefloor, so when Luca asked me to dance, I begrudgingly agreed. Taking me into his arms, he moved me over the gleaming marble, leaning in close and pressing his hands below my waist while we swayed in time with the music, but it felt all wrong. He was too tall, overly confident and possessive, with hands that glided closer than comfort to my backside.
His gin-scented breath wafted toward me as he leaned in, as if I might kiss him so soon in the evening and after just one dance. But when I shifted my face away from him toward the stairs, I froze. A lone figure stood midway down. His dark blue suit looked like something you’d see at a royal wedding, with shining gold epaulets on his shoulders.
Whoever he was, he took another step, and as he came closer, I noticed his sun kissed skin and the way it complimented his rich, golden hair. Though he wore a mask, the eyes beneath penetrated the crowd with knife-like precision. Until they paused their searching and landed on me.
Luca turned to see what had captured my attention, and it was then I realized I had stopped moving entirely.
The man took the remaining stairs in his smooth stride, his eyes never leaving mine as he did.
“Who the hell is that?” Luca said behind me.
