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I move slowly at first, slipping into the fray of talking students, pretending I’m one of them and not trying to hide. But after a few moments, I figure that the best thing would be to slip through a gap in the crowd and fade away, unnoticed and as inconspicuous as possible. Because I know that as soon as the babysitters see I’m gone, all hell will break loose when they eventually inform Baxter.
A hand yanks me from the crowd. I look up and see Danny’s sweet brown eyes. He says nothing, raising a finger to his lips, and guides us carefully behind Baxter. As we walk, Danny whispers to me, “Don’t talk. Follow me.” I resist the urge to tiptoe. We edge along the side of the coach and then turn the corner, disappearing from view. The cold seeps through my dress and I shiver. Danny pulls me closer to him, and without thinking, I bury my head against his shoulder. He stiffens slightly at first, as if in surprise, but then wraps his arm around my bare shoulders. “The others are over here.”
I hadn’t paid much attention on the drive to the hotel, but now I realize that we’re surprisingly close to Dunhaven. From here, I see the long line of land leading out to the sea, where we’d explored the ruins and destroyed our bodies with lust. The moon is a bright, white, fulsome orb hovering above the stone, but the horizon, where blue meets black, bursts with the orange glow of the dying sun. From my perspective, at the edge of it all, the world is full of sky.
Danny stops moving, and I look up, struck by Rory’s intense stare. His face is flushed, his eyes dark with concern and something else, a mix of emotions I’m unable to put my finger on as he inspects my face. After a moment’s silence, Rory whispers in a gruff voice, “Did she actually fucking attack you?”
“Arabella,” I clarify. “Not Li.”
Rory raises an eyebrow in surprise. Then he takes my bruised chin, turns my face toward him, and kisses me hard. His lips are rough against mine. I let my hands glide into his golden hair, caressing his temples gently. Our kiss intensifies, growing more desperate by the second. At some point, I must have wrapped my arms around his neck, because suddenly we’re clinging as desperately to each other as though drowning.
A cough interrupts us. We break apart, warm breath flowing into each other’s mouths.
“As sweet as this is,” Finlay mutters dryly, and lets the point hang. I know he’s been feeling left out recently, so I take his hand in mine, running my thumb over his knuckles. He gazes down, watching my caresses with interest, and then raises his green eyes to Rory. “I want tae be wi’ the sassenach,” he says, an edge of a challenge underlying his words. “Just me and her.”
“You caused a fire drill to steal the saint for yourself?” Rory sounds incredulous. “We’re in this together — you know that, right?”
“Do you?” Finlay’s words are sharp and swift enough to catch my breath, and the challenge in his gaze doesn’t lessen. “I just want one night. That’s all.”
Rory studies his best friend, and perhaps he notes the determination blazing across his face, because he says in a cool voice, “Fine. If it’s what the saint wants. But know that Baxter will get you, and I won’t be able to protect you. We could have been punished together instead.”
“Ye still have time tae fuck up the Burns Night toasts. Tell them a’ whit yereallythink.”
“Yeah, unlike you, I don’t have a death wish.” Rory pauses, listening. The fire alarm has stopped. “We’ll go back, try to hold them off when they realize the troublemaker and their star musician are missing.”
“Thanks,” Finlay says, and he sounds as though he means it genuinely, his gaze never breaking from Rory’s. He winds his fingers between mine, holding me secure, and I wonder what Rory sees when he looks at him — his friend, his lover, his rival.
Quietly, Rory says, “Self-preservation, man, when will you learn it?” Without waiting for a response, he turns and walks away, his polished black shoes crunching on the gravel.
Danny glances at us, looking torn. “Enjoy your night,” he whispers, kissing my cheek softly. Voices are picking up now, instructing those milling around to smarten up and return indoors. “I hope it’s worth this.” He shoots us a wary smile as he makes his way to the fountain and toward the devastation.
“Well,” Finlay says dryly, “I think that worked.” He holds me tight as he scoops me into his arms. “We’re finally together.”
I nod, my heart hammering against my rib cage. I don’t know why I’m nervous. It’s not like Finlay started a real fire. It’s not as if the emergency services had been called out as flames danced among the debris.
He pulled a fire alarm to set me free. That’s all. False alarms happened all the time at my old school.
But to Baxter…
Finlay presses a gentle kiss against my temple. I snuggle deeper into his embrace.
“Thought you promised me a dance?” I ask with an impish smile, as the sun finally extinguishes into the North Sea.
And without missing a beat, Finlay grins widely at me and offers his hand.
52
There’s something about slinking around at night that makes us feel like wayward kids, and it takes effort to hold back our giddy laughter as we watch a tired chef smoking nonchalantly on the steps outside what must be a staff exit.
Finlay’s hand is always tight around mine as we weave between gorgeous statues and vast stone plant pots. I lift the hem of my dress, revitalized by being free again and doing exactly what I want. As the grounds empty of bored rich students and the outdoors become peaceful but for the soothing stream of the fountain, Finlay and I slip deeper into the grand hotel gardens. An iron gate slowly creaks. We step into what feels like a capsule, a little space carved outside of time, where we can just exist and be as we wish. The moon glows like a dazzling opal in the dark sky, casting a soft light over the lush greenery and manicured floral displays. Insect song chirps sweetly in the night air.
“This is beautiful,” I whisper, my voice unwilling to shatter the peaceful spell.
Finlay’s lips quirk to the side as he stares meaningfully at me instead. “Is it? I huvnae noticed.”
“Oh, please.”
He extends his other hand with an indulgent smile. I place mine in it, and electricity zips up my spine. As if on cue, the haunting melody of bagpipes radiates from inside the hotel, and Finlay murmurs, “I want tae dance wi’ ye.”
