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The mirror greeted me with an image of someone who looked like Averill Winslow but felt like a complete stranger. There she stood, hair immaculate, face flushed from dancing—or was it from being sandwiched between two incredibly attractive men?
God, what a shitshow.
Get it together, Winslow. I dabbed at my forehead with a tissue. You're not some damsel in distress swooning over every guy who looks your way.
But as I stared into my own eyes, a wave of inadequacy washed over me. Kylo, with his smoldering eyes that seemed to see right through me, and Ansel, with his disarmingly sincere charm—they both deserved better than a sarcastic, time-traveling trainwreck like me.
"Champagne, miss?" A bathroom attendant extended a silver tray towards me, snapping me out of my self-deprecating spiral.
I paused for a second, gnawing at my lip.
"Sure, why the hell not?" I grabbed a flute and let the bubbly liquid fizz on my tongue. It wasn't going to solve my problems, but it sure as hell might make them more entertaining.
"Looks like you're having quite the evening," the attendant observed with a knowing smile.
"Understatement of the century," I took another swig. "I'm usually the one causing chaos, not caught up in it."
"Isn't life funny like that?" she mused before she glided away to offer bathroom liquid courage to another soul.
Life was a goddamn comedian, all right.
I took a deep breath and prepared myself for round two—or was it three?—of whatever this night had in store. Ansel didn't give a rat's ass about the room teeming with New York's finest snobs; he only had eyes for me. And damn if that didn't send a thrill down my spine.
"Back so soon?" Ansel greeted me as I approached, his smile warmer than the champagne I'd just downed.
"Your magnetic personality pulled me back," I shot back sarcastically, feeling the alcohol loosen my tongue and inhibitions.
"Is that so?" He took the empty glass from my hand and set it aside before offering his arm. "Shall we?"
"Lead the way, Casanova." My pussy fluttered as I tucked my hand into the crook of his elbow, actually giving myself this moment of thoughtlessness. Because after years of dodging bullets and temporal anomalies, I deserved a night to just let go—even if just a little.
"Try not to fall for me too hard," I warned, half-joking, as we rejoined the crowd of dancers.
"Wouldn't dream of it," Ansel pulled me close once again and his hand rested at the small of my back like it belonged there. "I prefer to fall with someone, not for them."
"Smooth," I rolled my eyes, unable to suppress the flutter in my belly. Who knew Mr. Morally Righteous was also Mr. Suave?
The third glass of champagne sat heavy in my hand, bubbles tickling my nose as I swayed to the music with Ansel. Each step we took was a dance of shadows and light, our bodies pressing closer in a rhythm that made me forget the mission, the danger, the fucked-up tangle that was my life.
"Mind if I cut in?" Kylo's voice sliced through the melody, a sharp note that made me stiffen.
Ansel glanced at me with a question in his eyes before he nodded and slipped away into the crowd, whispering that he'd fetch another drink for me—a fourth that I probably didn't need but would happily take anyway because tonight, restraint could go fuck itself.
As soon as Ansel vanished, Kylo's arms ensnared me, pulling me against his chest with a possessiveness that sent shockwaves down to places that should not have been zinging with arousal right now. His gaze burned into mine, dark and intense and all sorts of dangerous.
"What do you think you're doing, Averill?" he demanded, his voice laced with an edge so dominant it had my pussy betraying me with a quiver. "You're taking this undercover thing too far."
"Jesus, Kylo," I shot back, my tipsy brain firing off sarcasm like it was going out of style. "We screwed once in a motel room that's seen more action than a fucking war zone. I'm hardly wearing your ring."
His jaw clenched and hurt flashed across his features before he masked it with anger. But before he could launch a counter strike, Ansel reappeared, grinning and oblivious, holding out a flute that sparkled under the chandeliers.
"Thanks, man," Ansel said, all sincerity and warmth. It was enough to defuse even Kylo's simmering temper. "Was I interrupting something important?" He glanced between us.
"Nothing I can't leave unfinished," Kylo's words dripped with anger before he stalked off and left a cold void where his body had been.
"Asshole," I muttered under my breath, took the offered glass and tried to tamp down the swirl of emotions Kylo had stirred up.
Ansel's arm found its way around my waist again and we resumed our slow dance. "Seems like there's more between you two than just work," he ventured, his voice low in my ear.
