Page 32 of Crystal Iris
“You remember Akira…” I reintroduce them. “Is Ted here?” I ask, not seeing her husband nearby.
“Yeah, somewhere with Aaron.”
I sip my cocktail while Lara updates us on the latest gossip about the people around us when I feel my prism pulse. I look up and see Hoyt ordering a drink; he catches me staring. He nods and smiles at me.
His green eyes almost glow with the light above him.
My friends are staring too.
“Well, well, Mr. Locklear is looking hot as ever,” Lara says, devouring him with her eyes.
“That’s Hoyt?” Akira blurts out.
Lara has herconfirmationthat I lied. Akira hasn’t even met the guy.
“Yes,” I answer.
“Go talk to him!” Akira urges, pushing me.
“Are you crazy? Aaron could be anywhere.” I look around.
“Then I will.” She moves toward him.
I’m mortified by what she might say to him. I pull Lara into a conversation, but I can’t help but stare at them.
“What’s going on?” Lara asks.
I roll my eyes. “Akira is single, so…”
“Iris, we both know Akira isn’t going over there for her.”
“It’s not like I can go there myself…”
Lara looks around. “There’s no balcony.” She glances at the stairs. “We can distract Aaron long enough for you guys to… talk,” she says.
“I don’t know… I’m not sure if it’s a good idea.”
“Better now than after the wedding.” She sips her drink casually.
“Oh my god! This is crazy.”
“Head upstairs. He’ll meet you there,”she affirms.
I walk upstairs, my heart throbbing stronger with each step. I hold on to the beautiful ornate railing to steady myself. I need to get my feelings under control, or this conversation will be about the light in my necklace.Wait, it’s not wet, I remind myself. Still, I can feel something happening with the prism, like it’s pulsing with my heartbeat.
I wait a couple of minutes when I hear his voice behind me.
“Iris?”
I turn around. “Hi. I didn’t know you knew my name…”
His eyes lower from my face to my chest, straight to the necklace. “Your friend just told me… Where did you get that necklace?”
“Oh, this… My mother gave it to me.”
He reaches for my hand, but then recoils, remembering what we felt last time we touched. “Follow me,” he tells me.
I look around. “Follow you? Where? Why?”
