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“Unfortunate. I didn’t pack anything you would consider ‘casual.’”
“You must ownsomecasual clothes. You’d look good in a tight tank top. You have the arms for it. Something like that wouldn’t be so bad, would it?”
Elias smiles. “It wouldn’t, but I’m still not going to.”
I snort a laugh. “Fine. Be like that.”
Caelan lets me sit up again now that the topic seems to have come to a close, and I arrange myself into a more presentable position on the bed. Caelan’s hand still somehow manages to find its way around my waist in the process.
“What about you?” Elias asks smoothly.
“Hmm?”
“What areyouintending to wear to the gala?”
“Oh. Right.” Honestly, I’m glad he asked. This is all new to me, and I have no idea if my outfit is acceptable. Whatever else Elias may be, he at least seems to have a sense of style. A second pair of eyes would be welcome.
I slip out of Caelan’s grip and go for my bag. Come to think of it, I should get the dress out anyway. Give it a day to uncrumple before I have to wear it.
It was a gem of a thrift store find. It was an honest-to-God ballgown with ruffled layers reaching to the floor, a low, off-the-shoulder neckline, and a corset.
Elias only nods, but his eyes are alight with approval. “You’ll look lovely,” he says, then adds regretfully, “It’s a shame I won’t get to dance with you on the night.”
Oh.My heart sinks, although I do my best not to let it show. “You won’t?”
“I’ll be backstage most of the time, I’m afraid.” Of course, I should have figured that. “But perhaps tonight we could go and take an early look at the ballroom,” he offers.
“All right. That would be nice.”
The more I think about it, the more I warm up to the idea. I’m not exactly the most confident dancer. I watched a few tutorial videos online last week in preparation, knowing it would be useful, but it’s not as though I practiced, so dancing with Elias without the pressure of an audience might be preferable. Or no audience other than Caelan. Hopefully.
I turn back to Caelan. He’s flipped onto his front on the bed now, chin resting on his fist as he watches Elias and me. “You gonna come dance too?” I ask him. “Just us?”
“Pfft. You think I know any of that kinda ballroom crap?”
“You know I’d be happy to teach you,” Elias says.
“You know I don’t give enough of a shit to learn.”
I hang my dress over the back of the room’s armchair, then poke Caelan lightly in his side. “Come with us anyway.”
Caelan reaches out. I think he’s going to bat my hand away, but he grips my wrist and pulls me across to him. Then he sits up, and, with a small yelp and a giggle, I find myself practically on his lap.
“Why? You wanna seemystyle of dancing?” He purrs, suggestively rolling his hips up against me, flustering me more.
It’s the sort of move that makes me think of dark, smoky clubs with strobe lights cutting through the fog and dirty electro beats. I can imagine Caelan grabbing my hips and pressing himself up against me, grinding together in time to the pounding music that throbs through us like a heartbeat.
My breath catches in my throat. “Also acceptable,” I say, swallowing a groan.
Caelan grins. “That’s what I thought.”
“Be that as it may,” Elias interrupts, clearing his throat. There’s a quiet smile on his face, one eyebrow raised as he watches us. “We have a reservation for dinner in a little over half an hour. Any ‘dancing’ of whatever kind will have to wait for later.”
“Shame,” Caelan mumbles against my neck, reluctantly letting go of me again.
Honestly, I’m equally as reluctant to leave, but I swing my legs over to sit sensibly on the side of the bed. “When do we need to leave? Is it far?”
“Not at all. A block away. But I thought it best to give sufficient warning.”
