Page 10 of Twisted Gift

Allison blinks, pulling her lip into her mouth. “Do you want to leave? I’ll go with you.”

My stomach plummets. Allison shouldn’t leave becauseIhave an issue. “No way.” I shake my head. “This is supposed to be a night of celebration.”

“It’s a private event,” Oliver chimes in. “He’s the owner of the hotel. He’s not going to be there.”

I want to shake my head. Of course he’s here. My brows knit as I glance out the window at the tall building and pluck at the fabric of my dress. The last thing I want to do is ruin this night for my friends. They’ve worked as hard as I have, and they deserve to celebrate their success.Ah, shit. I’ll take my chances.With a deep breath, I reach for the door handle. “Let’s do this,” I say.

My heels echo on the marble stairs, and it takes everything in me not to think back to the time I stormed up them demanding to see Tristan after Allison was taken. It doesn’t take much for my head to go there, to those first encounters with Tristan. When he was just Tristan Westbrook, the wickedly attractive and equally intimidating leader of the fae. Before he was the man I called mine.

Allison, Oliver, and I walk inside together, and I can hear my own heart beating over both of theirs. I need to relax. Deep breaths. Icando this. I’ve earned this celebration, and I’m going to enjoy it.

Marisa rushes over as we make our way across the lobby. “Hey!” Her voice is cheerful and warm; the smile on her face is genuine and pleasant. Oh, I’ve missed her.

I smile, my eyes doing a quick scan of the room before they land on her. “Hey, Marisa. How are you?”

I tune out the second she starts talking. I haven’t been here in two months, but it’s exactly how I remember it. People are walking around and sitting in the lounge area watching one of the flat screens attached to pillars that separate the room into smaller, cozy sections. Listening closer, I pick up on bits of conversations happening in the hotel restaurant, the orders being given in the kitchen, and the music that’s coming from the ballroom we’re headed to for the party.

Allison taps my elbow, and I snap back to the moment, offering an apologetic smile.

“You guys look amazing,” Marisa beams. “Congratulations on graduating.”

We all murmur our thanks, and she leads us to the ballroom as if I don’t know where it is, chatting with Allison about the design on her dress until we reach the open double doors.

Allison reaches over and squeezes my hand before we walk in, getting enveloped by music and chatting graduates. After grabbing flutes of champagne from the bar, we shuffle over to some of our friends. A few of them who already have jobs are talking about getting a place together in the city, while a couple of them groan, going on about their struggles with job searching. We’ve only been graduated for an hour or so, and most of us are already looking for work. That goes to show the type of people I chose to make friends with during my post-secondary career. I’m proud of them. When the question gets turned on Allison, Oliver, and me, I hesitate.

“I’m still looking,” I answer, and it’s true. I might be stuck with Taylor’s Brew for now as a source of income, but once I figure everything out, I’ll get a job where Iwantto work.

They nod, understanding the challenge of finding a decent job as a recent graduate. Oliver is in the same boat.

I tip my flute back to take a drink and find it empty. Damn. I didn’t realize I’d been drinking it while we were chatting. A buzz might take the edge off my internal struggle, so I excuse myself and head to the bar for another drink.

I’m leaning against the counter, waiting for the bartender, when one of the guys from my program approaches and offers a dazzling smile. “Aurora,” he says. “Wanna dance?”

Peeking at the dance floor, I see at least a dozen couples moving to the music. What I don’t see is the piano I snuck in here to play. Maybe they moved it for the event. I pull myself out of the memory of that day. Tonight is about being normal, not obsessing over the memories I have attached to this place.

“Uh, sure.”

We set our drinks down, and I accept the hand he extends to me, letting him lead me into the mass of people moving to the melody. I drape my arms over his shoulders, and he holds my waist gently, almost hesitantly. It makes me smile. I’ve come a long way since the last time I was in this ballroom—the night I found out Adam had pneumonia. The ache in my heart that has been there since he died remains, but each day it gets more and more bearable. I still miss him, but I know he wouldn’t want me to be sad forever.

“So what are your big plans now that we’ve graduated?” he asks, bringing me back to the present.

“Nothing big,” I answer. “I’m pretty boring.” He gives me a look that saysyeah, right, and I giggle. “What are you doing?”

He shrugs as we move to the music. “I want to travel the world, but my bank account says otherwise.”

I smile. “Sounds about right.”

We fall into a comfortable silence, swaying and holding each other. It’s nice. Normal. Until my head sabotages it. Thoughts trickle in of everything I’ve been dealing with over the last few weeks. It always goes back to that. I gave myself until today to set everything aside, but my time is up. School is over and now...

The music fades around me, and I wince when the room sways.

“Are you okay?” His voice sounds far away, drowned out by the ringing in my ears. My heart beats faster, making breathing a harder task than it should be, and then it’s not justmyheartbeat I hear. It’s every heartbeat in the room, pounding in my ears. I’m suffocated by raging emotions. Excitement bubbles in my chest; stress makes my shoulders heavy and triggers a twitch in my eye—hell, my body—and not just a twitch. Tingles of arousal course through me, namely between my thighs. It’s too much. I can’t make it stop, can’t push it away. Everything is bombarding me at once, cranking the temperature of my body way up. As I try to get it under control, sweat dots my brow. My muscles shake, and I’m lightheaded as if I’m going to pass out any minute from the landslide of emotions.

I push him away, muttering a quick apology as I flee the ballroom. I make it to the lobby, relieved to find it almost empty. Stars peppering my vision, I slump against one of the walls near the sitting area and suck in a breath, trying to force air into my lungs as Allison appears in front of me, demanding to know what’s going on. She must have spotted me leaving.

My jaw clenches so hard my teeth ache. Putting distance between the room full of people helped some, but I’m still hyperventilating. “I’m sorry,” I force out.

She shakes her head, rubbing her hands up and down my arms. “It’s okay. Just tell me what’s wrong.”

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