Page 11 of Liars and Liaisons

“Are you going to kiss me?” she whispers.

I nod, a tiny smirk tugging at the corner of my mouth. She exhales, her breath warm against the collar of my shirt.

Her head tilts. An invitation.

My fingers buzz with anticipation.

I’m not totally sure I should do this, but I’m in no shape to deny her anything. If she asked me to drop to my knees and crawl to her, in this very second, I would.

My heart beats a staccato rhythm behind my rib cage, and when I take one of her hands and place it over the organ, I know she feels it.

She swallows, and a part of me wishes I could reach up and tear her mask away. Free her of the gold finishings and the sequins and reveal her identity—see her as my brother did.

But I don’t. Can’t risk her wanting to know who’s behind mine.

Her free hand falls to the crook of my arm, and she squeezes my bicep slightly as I press inward, lining our pelvises. A small, sharp gasp puffs past her bright red lips at the sudden shift, and her eyes fall between us, leaving me ice cold.

My hand snaps up, my index finger hooking beneath her chin and angling her face until she’s forced to look back.

Desire pumps wildly through my bloodstream as our gazes catch and hold. Something kindles in the distance between us, and I latch on to its warmth. I don’t even care that I haven’t checked the room for all potential exits or that there are so many people in the house tonight that I might not be able to escape if need be.

I don’t mind how crowded and public this venue is. All I care about is this.

As I bend my head, I’m not thinking about the potential disaster lying in wake. I’m not thinking of anything, except her gemstone irises and her soft scent. Spicy but sweet.

I’m not even thinking about the people who might bear witness to this—whatever the hell it is.

Everything else fades to nothing as I grip her thigh through the slit in her dress, hiking her leg up.

When I kiss her, pushing that little white pill into her mouth with a flick and twist of my tongue, it’s just us.

3

Sunshine cascades across my skin,sending rays of heat over my arms and face.

I roll over in bed, stretching my legs but keeping my eyes closed. My muscles are tender, and a slight throbbing sensation perks up in the back of my head, making me question just how much alcohol I had last night.

Three drinks shouldn’t have worn me out this much, but I suppose any tolerance I built in college has disappeared in the years since I dropped out.

Warmth spreads in my chest, and I lift my fingers to my mouth, recalling the events of last night. Nate finding and kissing me, causing all my worries to float away, as if nothing had ever ended between us in the first place.

Buzzing comes from my right, and I blindly throw my arm out, sweeping my hand over the polished wood nightstand to search for my phone. I don’t even glance at the screen before I accept the call, pressing the speaker to my ear.

“Hello?”

“I’m going to fuckingkillyou.” Cora’s voice shreds through my sleepy haze, and I blink, staring up at an unfamiliar ceiling as I try to gather my bearings. “What the actual fuck, Violet? You traipse off alone somewhere at the fundraiser, and then no one hears from you the rest of the night? Do you realize how worried I was? Kal was beside himself—”

“M’eudail.” Alistair’s term of endearment for her is soft as it comes through the line, his British accent smooth as butter. “You’re yelling.”

“You’re goddamn right I am. I thought—” She breaks off on a sob, and there’s movement on their side, the shuffling of fabric and murmured voices for several seconds. “I thought something had happened to you.”

I don’t think I’ve ever heard my cousin cry before. Not even when she lost her brother. My throat, dry as a desert, grows tight, and I wipe my eye with a closed fist, still trying to understand what’s going on.

“Cor,” I say, “what are you even talking about? I’m fine. Literally in bed right now.”

The hushed voices pause.

Then, Alistair asks, “Whosebed? Not the one in our guest room.”

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