Page 71 of Masked Sins
I see Liam pull her hand to his mouth, kissing it once. He looks at her with pure adoration, and I have to look away because it feels like I’m witnessing a very private moment.
“How’s intensive going?” Orion asks me.
I shrug. I’d done a two-hour intensive earlier today, and Orion’s question reminds me that Bradleigh hadn’t been present at the classes all week, nor had she called in sick, which was the first in over three years. I’d spent the majority of the class gnawing my nails down with worry and was waiting for an email back from her mom, but she hadn’t responded.
“Good.”
“They’re lucky to have you,” he says, eyes boring into mine. “I still remember taking you to yours. Remember? I’d just gotten my license, and I then spent most of my free time driving you around to various classes all over the city.”
I laugh. “I remember, and I’m grateful for you.”
His expression softens. He reaches for the black box between us—something I hadn’t noticed until just now.
“Belated birthday present,” he tells me, handing the box to me. “Don’t open it until later, okay?”
My mouth opens and closes. “My birthday was in December.”
He smiles, but he doesn’t look at me. “That’s why I said it was belated,” he says playfully.
“My birthday is next week, and this isliterallymy birthday celebration, but okay,” Zoe chides from the front seat as she crosses her arms.
I laugh, but there’s a tightness in my throat, a mix of surprise and emotion making it hard to speak. The warmth of his thoughtfulness is almost too much to bear, and even though I don’t know what it is, a small part of me is grateful that we’ve gone from hating each other to exchanging gifts.
“Yeah, yeah. You already know what I got you,” Orion teases.
“What’d he get you?” I ask her.
“A weekend of watching Captain so we can go on a little getaway,” Zoe says glumly. “And while it’s very thoughtful, I’m not sure Captain is ever going to willingly go back to your apartment with that demon spawn of a bird who terrorizes him.”
We all laugh, and my fingers trace the silky ribbon of the box. I need to know where people are getting these fancy gift boxes because it reminds me of the one Starboy got for me.
“Thank you,” I tell Orion earnestly.
The rest of the drive into Hollywood is relatively quiet, and by the time we get to the Pantages, it’s fifteen minutes until showtime. We park in one of the premium spots that I’m sure Liam reserved. As we enter the packed theater, we’re giggling and drawing attention to ourselves because we’re all overdressed.
We’re ushered to our private box, where we’re lavished with hors d’oeuvres and champagne. Orion asks for sparkling water,and I have one too many glasses in the seven minutes we have to drink before the show starts. I’m giddy and buzzing with excitement, and once the lights go out, I do a little dance.
It doesn’t even matter that I’m seated next to Orion.
He just smiles and looks ahead, his hand resting on our shared armrest.
The music by Andrew Lloyd Webber begins, and I’m grinning. I can never get enough of the mysterious Phantom, a musical genius who lives beneath the Paris Opera House, and his obsession with Christine Daaé, a young and talented soprano.
One day, I’ll see the show in Paris.
I watch as the musical moves through the parts I have memorized. The eerie, haunting music gives me goose bumps, and when I look over at Orion, he’s watching me.
“What?” I whisper, suddenly embarrassed for having such visceral reactions to the show.
He shakes his head and smiles before looking away.
I watch as “Music of the Night” plays, revealing the Phantom’s inner torment. My heart wrenches at his longing for connection. The next part of the play has me anticipating what comes next as the Phantom’s presence looms over the festivities. And then my favorite scene—the one where Christine unmasks the Phantom—starts. I lean forward in my seat, resting my arms on the railing as my eyes water.
“You okay?” Orion’s hand comes to the small of my back, and I turn to face him.
“She’s horrified it’s him. You can see it in her face. I never understood that. They shared such a connection,” I whisper passionately. “It’s a vulnerable moment for him, and she acts revolted by him.”
Orion’s face, while masked in darkness, tenses slightly. A crease forms between his brows, and his eyes dip to my lips before looking forward. I follow his gaze to the stage.
