Page 42 of Symphony for Lies

“Yes, thank you for the tickets,” my grandmother added, this time with a genuine smile.

A faint smile touched Tristan’s lips in return, but the tension in his frame remained.“It was my pleasure. I hope you’ll come to my next performance.”

I nodded, and my grandmother hooked her arm through mine.“We should get going,” she murmured.

I still had my hand on Tristan’s shoulder, trying to ease whatever storm was brewing inside him, whenfingers brushed against mine.

Zane’s.

His touch was deliberate, unhurried, as if he had all the time in the world, and with effortless ease, he lifted my hand to his warm lips.

A single breath. A single moment where everything else faded.

My body froze.

It wasn’t a long kiss. Not forceful. Not demanding.

But it burned. It branded me.

His eyes never left mine, as if he was waiting for me to break.

I yanked my hand back, rubbing it against my sleeve to try to erase the sensation.

But the tingling remained.

“What the hell was that?” I snapped.

Zane tilted his head slightly, his smirk deepening at my reaction.“I thought that’s how you liked to be greeted.” His gaze flicked toward Tristan. “That’s how he does it, right?”

Oh myGod.

I gaped at him, totally speechless.

Tristan’s jaw tightened as his anger radiated off him in waves. But Zane? He barely acknowledged it.

Instead, his gaze flicked back to me just in time to catch my glare.

I turned away sharply, grabbing my grandmother and pulling her with me before he could say anything else.She barely managed to keep up, staring back at Zane like she was in a trance.

As we walked, I caught a glimpse of Mrs. Cole.Her cold, unyielding stare wasn’t on Zane. It was on me.

My blood froze.

What was that?

The tension, an unsettling weight, pressed against my ribs. I didn’t like it. Not one bit.

Stepping into the crisp night air, the cool breeze soothed the heat clinging to my skin.

My grandmother broke her silence when we finally got in a waiting taxi.“Ha! I knew it! Zane’s got his eyes on you!”

“Grandma,” I groaned.

“You can’t fool me. Anyone who says otherwise is a liar!”

I sighed, letting my head fall back against the seat.

“Listen to me, sweetheart. I don’t like Tristan.”