Page 55 of Hide From Me

I laugh. “You can use my hand as a ponytail.”

She punches my arm, and I pretend it hurts.

The bonfire smoke curls around us, and the crunch of sand beneath our shoes is louder than the music. I can feel eyes on me—every fucking one of them.

Raylen’s body is completely stiff next to mine, and I hate that she feels so uncomfortable. This was supposed to be an easy transition, but it hasn't even started, and it’s already proving to be more difficult than I anticipated.

Cordelia clears her throat as we pass, but I don’t stop to say anything. I already have this figured out. I’ll convince everyone she’s from a different faction and maintain my facade that this is simply some kind of business…as long as everyone keeps their mouths shut, it will all be just fine.

My gaze darts around, searching for a buffer. Someone who’ll believe me—or at least pretend to. My eyes land on Laura, and just from the way her glasses fog above her mask, I know she’s already figured me out.

“You're tense.” I tease, wanting her to relax in my arms like she did that night where I held onto her like a damn lifeline.

“What’s your favorite color?” I murmur, guiding her down the slope.

“Yellow,” she mumbles as her chin dips.

Of course it is.

“What’s yours?” Raylen asks quietly.

“Yellow,” I reply, smiling down at her.

She side-eyes me. “You’re just saying that because it’s mine.”

“Haven’t I told you, baby?” I squeeze her hand. “I’ll be whatever you want me to be—as long as that means you still want me.”

“No you haven't–” She hesitates.

“Well, look there,” I hum, and Raylens’ head snaps up the same moment Laura's line of sight locks on us.

“Raylen?” Laura’s eyes squint as if she's trying to make sure this isn't just a figment of her imagination.

“Laura!” Raylen gasps like she’s stumbling into an old friend in a warzone. And honestly? I don’t blame her. This might be the worst introduction to my world possible.

“Didn’t expect to see you here,” Laura says lightly, but her glare could gut me clean. She hasn’t stopped staring since Raylen walked up—and not in the ‘you look hot tonight’ kind of way. More like the ‘what the hell did you drag into my classified nightmare’ kind of way.

I wince and immediately hate that I do.

“I thought you said youusedto work with Moe?” Raylen asks, already tugging a red solo cup out of Laura’s hand. She lifts her mask just enough to take a drink like she needs something strong to get through this conversation.

“I—uh—” I choke on air. “I’ll be back, ladies.”

Before either of them can say more, I slip my hand from Raylen’s and head toward Caspian, Sam, and their dates, who are marching straight toward us like they’re about to carry out an interrogation. Please for the love of God let the “no-work-talk” rule I made up for this party come in handy.

“Who—” Sharkie starts, already pointing.

“The fuck—” Caspian interrupts, his tone sharp.

“Is that?” Jasmine cuts in sweetly, too sweet.

Ithrow up both hands. “Whoa! Harmony, people. You sound like a choir. I love that for us. Sam, your turn—come on, blend in.”

Sharkie giggles. Sam says nothing. Hell, he doesn’t even look at me.That’s not good.When Sam’s quiet, it means he’s piecing something together and that something usually ends in someone bleeding.

“Moe,” Caspian warns, his tone sharp and low. I reach for my hair, forgetting about the fucking mask straps.

“She’s, uh—she’s…” Words. Where the hell are my words? They were here a second ago.