Page 68 of Stardusted
I was an idiot for believing someone who looked like him would be interested in somebody like me. I’d fallen right for thatyou-look-great-in-that-dressline. Heat rushed into my cheeks—this time fueled by embarrassment.
I stepped back. Cooler air swirled in between us, kissing my scalding face. The vodka sloshed in my stomach.
Sky let his arms fall to his sides, and his brows tented as he watched me put distance between us. If he was acting, he was doing a damn good job. That looked like concern. Real concern. The downward tilt to his mouth, the tightening of his jaw.
I wavered. Maybe hedidn’thave some ulterior motive. Maybe I was just overthinking.
God, this was a roller coaster. I didn’t particularlylikeroller coasters. They felt too out of control, which was, oddly enough, a perfect metaphor for my life right now.
I smoothed my dress with twitchy fingers and looked around at the dancing bodies, the swirling lights. It was easier to form coherent sentences when I wasn’t peering up at Sky’s stupidly perfect face.
“I’m not really sure what happened at the university,” I said, stretching my sleeve over my wrist, hiding my marked hand. “I hit my head and…I don’t remember anything after that.”
The bruises under my dress throbbed, a reminder of how big of a lie that really was.
Sky was quiet for a moment. We were still close enough that I had to crane my neck to meet his eyes when I finally chanced it. He was still watching me. Closely.
“You don’t remember what happened at the school?” he asked. “At all?”
I bit the inside of my cheek. There it was again—that tone. I didn’t like this. I’d swear it bordered on disbelief.
But what reason would he have to not believe me?
I lifted my chin. “No. I don’t remember anything.”
“I see.” He pursed his lips, gaze sliding to the crowd around us instead of me. But his tone was pointed as he asked, “So…is this kind of like you not knowing what ran you off the road the other day?”
My heart stuttered. The music faded beneath a buzzing in my ears. I gazed up at him, apprehension sloshing over me like a dark tide.
I wasn’t imagining shit. That was skepticism.
“I never said something ran me off the road,” I replied slowly, shuffling back a step. “I told you I swerved to avoid an animal.” I wrapped my arms around myself, pulse hammering at the base of my throat. “Remember?”
He turned his head. His searching stare found mine and didn’t waver. “Right. Of course. An animal.”
A chill slithered down my spine.
A group of people jostled me on their way by, laughing and yelling. I used the distraction to back up even more. Sky’s eyes narrowed, like my retreat bothered him. Or maybe it was my refusal to cave to his interrogation.
Screw it. Gathering my courage, I raised my voice over the music. “I’m just going to come out and ask. Are you accusing me of hiding something? Because I keep getting that feeling. Which is silly. Right?”
Despite the thumping track and loud voices, I knew he’d heard me just fine because the creases in his forehead deepened. I wanted him to agree with me. To laugh it off. He shook hishead, opening his mouth, and something in his expression told me he was going to deny it.
Before he could say anything, before I could lose my momentum, more words spilled out of me. “Because it feels like you’ve been trying to get me to fess up to some secret ever since you gave me that ride home.” He closed his mouth. I paused, flushing a little under his scrutiny, and added, “Which Idoappreciate. It was nice of you to stop and help me.” I squared my shoulders. “But what Idon’tappreciate is the insinuation that I’m lying—or that I owe you some kind of explanation.”
I ran out of steam and, frankly, balls. I eyed him warily, shoulders heaving. God, where had the air gone in this place?
Sky didn’t respond right away. He seemed to be absorbing my rant. Or maybe coming up with an excuse. I didn’t know, but he was looking at me, unreadable as ever, bathed in shadow and neon light. The growing gap between us vibrated with tension, bass beats, and unspoken words.
I caught the barest flicker of…somethingcrossing his face. Guilt? Frustration? It was too fast to tell. The rapid shift of emotion threw me off.
What would he have to feel guilty about? Accusing me of lying?
Well, heshould.
I mean, Iwas. Lying. But it wasn’t like Iowedhim an explanation. It was my business. My life. Even if it was completely off the rails.
I had the overwhelming urge to throw my hands up and scream in frustration. Damn it, I’d just wanted a night of normalcy. Self-pity welled up along with the urge to cry, for some reason. I tightened my arms around my middle, hugging myself.
