Page 72 of Masked Sins
“Loving her so deeply, and knowing she can’t look at him without fear… I guess it’s hard to hide your feelings when they’re that strong,” he whispers. “I can understand that.” His tone conveys a hint of something personal like he’s revealing more than just his thoughts on the Phantom.
When I look back at Orion, he’s watching the stage intently.
I want to ask him if he’s referring to the woman he’s dating, but instead, he looks at me and holds a finger up to his lips.
“Watch. I know you want to.”
The rest of the play goes by quickly. I cry during “All I Ask of You,” naturally, and I swear I see Orion avert his gaze whenever I turn to face him.
And of course, the end has me nearly sobbing. It’s his final farewell, the antithesis of a happy ending.
“What the hell was that?” Zoe asks, eyes shimmering with unshed tears as the lights come back on after the curtain call.
I swipe my cheeks. “I know.”
She shakes her head. “I’msogoing to write some angry fan fiction where Christine and the Phantom get a happy ending between projects.”
I laugh.
We’re all quiet and introspective as we walk back to the car.
Stopping for burgers before we drive home, we all talk about the other brothers—namely Miles and Stella, and their adorable daughter, Beatrix. I laugh when Zoe spills her soda down the front of her dress, and my chest aches every time she touches Liam tenderly. Orion and I joke like old times, and every so often, I catch him looking at me.
Just as we pull off the freeway to get to my house, I let myself imagine this life. Just for a second. A double date to see a show, a casual dinner, a brooding Liam and a playful Orion who couldn’t stop looking at me…
What if?
Is that even something he would want now that he’s seeing someone? It could be kind of great—a mix of familiarity with a dash of intrigue and hot sex. I mean, I assume it would be hot—with the kinds of things he’s into, at least, and how just kissing him left me aching for more.
As we pull up to my house, I lean forward and hug Zoe before kissing Liam on the cheek.
“Thanks for being the designated driver, old guy,” I tease.
“Get out of here,” he jokes, but his smile is all warmth.
“I’ll walk you to your door,” Orion offers.
He comes around to the side of my car and opens the door. I grab the giftbox and my purse, and we walk up to my door together.
The night air is warm and dry as the wind swirls around us. The street is quiet, save for the soft rustle of leaves in the breeze and the distant hum of the 5 freeway. He walks beside me, his stride matching mine, every step measured, almost deliberate. I can feel the tension between us, thick like the shadows stretching across the pavement.
As we approach my door, his presence feels larger somehow, like he’s holding something back, something he’s not saying. I glance at him out of the corner of my eye—his jaw is set, his eyes fixed straight ahead, but there’s a tightness there, a weight that pulls my attention.
We reach the steps, and he hesitates, just for a fraction of a second, but enough for me to notice. He’s close now, close enough that I can feel the warmth radiating from him and hear the steady staccato of his breathing. My heart rate spikes. His eyes finally meet mine, and there’s something there, something deep and intense that sends a shiver down my spine.
He opens his mouth as if to say something, but the words don’t come. Instead, he just watches me, his gaze searching mine like he’s looking for something. The air between usfeels charged, heavy with everything he’s not saying. And at that moment, I realize there’s something here I hadn’t noticed before, or at least something I triedso hardto push away.
Something simmering beneath the surface.
His hand hovers near mine as though he’s debating whether to reach out, to close the space between us.
Do it.
Don’t do it.
Do it.
I take a step back, almost instinctively, and his eyes flicker with something—disappointment, maybe, or regret. But he doesn’t push. He just gives me a small, tight-lipped smile.
