Page 21 of Ella's Masquerade
If he was hoping for a repeat performance of my breakdown from freshman year, he’d be disappointed. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. And I wasn’t particularly fond of the idea of being made a fool.
“I’m not like the others at your school,” he added softly. “I’ll prove it to you.”
I shrugged, giving up. “Do your worst,” I dared.
“How about my best instead?” he countered, arching a brow.
I smoothed my gloved hands over my skirt. “Sure, Tray.”
We rode the rest of the way in silence. The palatial location hosting this year’s Homecoming seemed imposing and ominous as Tray assisted me out of the limo. Particularly with the way the sky hazed overhead, the clouds mingling with the moon high above. I half expected to see bats swirling around in the lamplights or an array of spiders climbing the stone walls. It would be appropriate for this time of year.
Alas, it was all decked out for the Homecoming dance Darlington Academy threw every fall on these decadent grounds. I wasn’t sure who owned the estate, but it was at least a hundred years old with a hint of European influence in the architecture.
Tray pressed his palm to my lower back, guiding me up the stone stairs and toward the giant wooden doors. Two men popped out from behind the pillars at the top to pull on the handles for us, causing me to move closer to Tray’s side. I hadn’t even noticed them in their black uniforms, and I didn’t particularly care for their abrupt appearance.
Pull it together, Ella,I told myself.It’s just a dance.
Except the last time I attended one, I’d run off in tears after having my heart shattered in front of my entire class.
At least that hadn’t happenedhere. That would have caused me to walk right back to the limo and demand Tray take me home.
But I could handle this.
Just breathe. Figure out what he’s up to. And leave.
Those three orders repeated in my thoughts as we navigated the long hallway toward the thudding bass. There weren’t a lot of decorations, mostly because the palace itself was already adorned in bronze and golds that boasted wealth and elegance in every corner. Even the marble floor appeared polished and rich. Floral arrangements mingled with low lighting, providing a romantic atmosphere that didn’t quite match the modern music playing beyond.
Tray paused on the threshold of a platform at the end of the corridor, his gaze capturing mine. “Are you ready?”
The last time I stood in a position like this, it was only minutes before my inevitable humiliation. Hopefully, Tray would follow suit and show his true colors sooner rather than later. I was ready to get this over with and couldn’t wait to put him right back in his place with my nonchalant reaction.
I refused to buy this whole helpful routine. Tray was definitely hiding something. Just like everyone else in this city.
“Ella?” He cupped my cheek, drawing me from my thoughts. “If you don’t want to do this, we—”
“I’m fine,” I cut in, forcing a tight smile. “Let’s get this over with.”
He chuckled and shook his head. “What every man wants to hear on a date.”
“This isn’t a date, Tray. It’s a forced social experiment.”
His laughter died as he stepped into my personal space—something he seemed to enjoy doing—and walked me backward into a wall. He settled his palms on either side of my head, effectively caging me. “You’re right,” he murmured, lowering his face until his lips were scant inches from mine. “This is just an introduction.”
His mouth nearly brushed mine, only to skim my cheek as I turned my head at the last possible second. I felt his grin against my skin.
“Mmm, I like the way you play,” he whispered, his nose trailing along my jaw to my neck. The light touch drew goose bumps to the surface, eliciting a quiver from deep within. It was a direct contrast to the heat licking a path up my spine and settling in my chest.
“I’m not playing,” I replied, my voice hoarse to my ears.
He chuckled against my throat, his breath awakening a flutter of butterflies in my lower abdomen.
What is it with this guy?I wondered, pressing back into the wall and striving for distance. Charlie and Dash had done things like this to me before, but not quite. With them, I just wanted to shove them away. With Tray… some twisted part of me wanted to grab him. To touch him in return. To arch into him rather than cower against the surface behind me.
His teeth skimmed my pulse, causing my heart to skip a beat.
My fingers curled into my palm. “Tray…” I didn’t know what I wanted to say, couldn’t think beyond the way his body felt pressing into mine.
Hot.
