Page 7
Story: Petty AF
Though I knew he meant the party, those three little words awakened something inside me. Something I didn’t understand and didn’t know if I was ready to confront.
I glanced over my shoulder, looking toward the sky. Probably just the effects of the full moon, I reasoned to myself. Everything felt heightened because of it, and I’d be fine come morning.
Then River linked his arm through mine, pressing against my side, and my entire fucking body reacted like I’d been struck by lightning. My muscles tightened. My heart raced. A low growl built in my chest, forcing me to choke it back.
“Ready?” he asked.
I could only nod.
Fuck, it was going to be a long night.
three
~ River ~
Fromthelavishsettingto the overly adorned guests, the Legacy Gala turned out to be nothing like I expected. Clashing colors, dramatic statement pieces, poorly tailored suits, and bold makeup—every guest stood out, and not necessarily in a good way.
Before arriving, I had been worried that I didn’t belong, that I wouldn’t fit into this upper echelon of shadeling society. Now, I knew I didn’t. The difference being that I no longer considered that to be a bad thing.
While I took no issue with artistic expression or audacious fashion choices, a lot of people in attendance seemed to make it their entire personality. Which I still preferred to those who strutted through the ballroom as if their very presence equated to a divine blessing.
“Smile,” Deaton said as he passed me my third glass of champagne.
I took the flute by its stem with an arched eyebrow. “Excuse me?”
“The volume might be turned down, but your face is still airing subtitles.”
Yeah, that sounded about right. Downing the contents of my glass in two swallows, I turned to my date with a bright, plastic smile.
“Better?”
The wolf shrugged. “Sure, if you’re auditioning forUncanny Valley: The Musical.”
As I snorted out a laugh, I felt my features soften into something less robotic.
“There it is,” he commented, chuckling along with me.
Damn, I really liked him. Maybe I had fallen for a façade, and he just took his job that seriously. I didn’t care. He had calmed my nerves, stopped me from spiraling, and as promised, he hadn’t left my side all night.
Although, most of my panic had been about meetinghim, not the party itself. He didn’t need to know that, though. Just like he didn’t need to know that I’d spent the past two days looking forward to his messages, then rereading them about a dozen times while I giggled like a schoolgirl.
Deaton was intelligent, funny, and a genuinely kind person. I found it incredibly easy to talk to him, and I appreciated that he guided without coddling. The fact that he looked like a walking wet dream definitely didn’t hurt either.
It kind of sucked that I’d never see him again after tonight.
Before I could think of something to say to keep the conversation going, the music shifted, the upbeat tempo flowing into a slower, more sultry rhythm. Deaton glanced at the dance floor, then back to me.
“I don’t dance,” I said automatically.
“Maybe you just haven’t met the right partner,” he countered, extending his hand.
I batted it away and rolled my eyes. “That was bad. I’m embarrassed for you.”
He laughed, completely unbothered, and took my hand anyway. “I saw it in a movie.”
“Watch better movies,” I quipped, ignoring the way my skin warmed and tingled from his touch.
His shoulders shook as he chuckled again, a deep baritone that resonated through our little corner and sent a shiver of desire straight to my groin. Then all those happy, sparkling feelings evaporated like the morning fog when he began pulling me toward the dance floor.
I glanced over my shoulder, looking toward the sky. Probably just the effects of the full moon, I reasoned to myself. Everything felt heightened because of it, and I’d be fine come morning.
Then River linked his arm through mine, pressing against my side, and my entire fucking body reacted like I’d been struck by lightning. My muscles tightened. My heart raced. A low growl built in my chest, forcing me to choke it back.
“Ready?” he asked.
I could only nod.
Fuck, it was going to be a long night.
three
~ River ~
Fromthelavishsettingto the overly adorned guests, the Legacy Gala turned out to be nothing like I expected. Clashing colors, dramatic statement pieces, poorly tailored suits, and bold makeup—every guest stood out, and not necessarily in a good way.
Before arriving, I had been worried that I didn’t belong, that I wouldn’t fit into this upper echelon of shadeling society. Now, I knew I didn’t. The difference being that I no longer considered that to be a bad thing.
While I took no issue with artistic expression or audacious fashion choices, a lot of people in attendance seemed to make it their entire personality. Which I still preferred to those who strutted through the ballroom as if their very presence equated to a divine blessing.
“Smile,” Deaton said as he passed me my third glass of champagne.
I took the flute by its stem with an arched eyebrow. “Excuse me?”
“The volume might be turned down, but your face is still airing subtitles.”
Yeah, that sounded about right. Downing the contents of my glass in two swallows, I turned to my date with a bright, plastic smile.
“Better?”
The wolf shrugged. “Sure, if you’re auditioning forUncanny Valley: The Musical.”
As I snorted out a laugh, I felt my features soften into something less robotic.
“There it is,” he commented, chuckling along with me.
Damn, I really liked him. Maybe I had fallen for a façade, and he just took his job that seriously. I didn’t care. He had calmed my nerves, stopped me from spiraling, and as promised, he hadn’t left my side all night.
Although, most of my panic had been about meetinghim, not the party itself. He didn’t need to know that, though. Just like he didn’t need to know that I’d spent the past two days looking forward to his messages, then rereading them about a dozen times while I giggled like a schoolgirl.
Deaton was intelligent, funny, and a genuinely kind person. I found it incredibly easy to talk to him, and I appreciated that he guided without coddling. The fact that he looked like a walking wet dream definitely didn’t hurt either.
It kind of sucked that I’d never see him again after tonight.
Before I could think of something to say to keep the conversation going, the music shifted, the upbeat tempo flowing into a slower, more sultry rhythm. Deaton glanced at the dance floor, then back to me.
“I don’t dance,” I said automatically.
“Maybe you just haven’t met the right partner,” he countered, extending his hand.
I batted it away and rolled my eyes. “That was bad. I’m embarrassed for you.”
He laughed, completely unbothered, and took my hand anyway. “I saw it in a movie.”
“Watch better movies,” I quipped, ignoring the way my skin warmed and tingled from his touch.
His shoulders shook as he chuckled again, a deep baritone that resonated through our little corner and sent a shiver of desire straight to my groin. Then all those happy, sparkling feelings evaporated like the morning fog when he began pulling me toward the dance floor.