Page 35

“Cheers!” Lisa throws her arm around my shoulder and hefts up her glass, the alcohol sloshing over the rim. “Oops,” she giggles, eyeing the large red stain on her white tube top, “I look like I got shot.”

I shake my head and hand her drink to Dev, who slides in next to us at the crowded bar top. “You’re so drunk, Lisa. Dev, save me from her.”

Dev chuckles, his eyes shining with love as he bends down and kisses his girlfriend, and that uncomfortable twinge in my chest makes a reappearance. “You’re such a cute drunk,” he murmurs.

You can have that too if you take a chance. Someone wants to take off his mask with you.

My pulse kicks up at the thought of Charles, who I haven’t seen since we wrapped up our last performance two hours ago. I distinctly remember seeing him in his usual box right before the performance, the fervor in his stare setting my skin on fire.

His lips curved into a ghost of a smile when he caught me looking at him before he turned to his companions in business attire.

Like all the times before, I felt reassured and comforted because of his presence. Somehow, I knew things would turn out okay.

The performance itself was uneventful, and while I wasn’t blowing anyone away with my Odette, I knew I was doing a great job as Odile. I was met with thundering applause at the end of my thirty-two turns.

During the curtain call, my eyes drifted over to Charles’s private box. He stood there clapping, a soft smile on his lips as he mouthed, “Good job.”

I felt the compliment right in my flurried heartbeats and wondered if, despite my efforts to keep my distance, to protect what was left of my broken heart, if he’d already snuck in and stole it away.

He left with his group after the performance, no doubt to some business dinner, then to the airport. I overheard from Lisa earlier that Charles had to go back to New York to take care of some business. I wouldn’t see him again for a few months.

I fought the aching disappointment settling on top of my chest.

Why didn’t he let me know?

Probably because you insisted on keeping him at arm’s length.

Isn’t this what you wanted, Taylor?

Annoyed at myself and needing some distraction, I went with Lisa and Dev for a quick bite of dinner before heading to a trendy club near the restaurant.

My eyes sweep over the throngs of people on the multicolored LED dance floor in this club on Dlouhá Street, a few blocks away from Estates Theatre. It’s close to midnight on Friday and the atmosphere is electric as people celebrate the end of a workweek.

“Let’s dance!” Lisa shrieks, grabbing Dev’s hand and pulling him toward the crowd. “Tay Tay, come with!”

My feet are sore and I just frankly want to go back to the hotel to reacquaint myself with the clawfoot bathtub. I shake my head. “You guys go ahead! I’m sitting this round out.”

She pouts, then sticks her tongue out and the two of them disappear into the masses.

I bop my head to the loud music, the bass heavy, vibrating into my bones. Getting another glass of a nonalcoholic citrus cocktail from the bartender—they unfortunately don’t have carrot flavored anything here—I take out my phone and swipe to the text messages.

Olivia

Look at our Thanksgiving chicken! Mom’s not a big fan of turkey, unfortunately.

Belle

We have tons of leftovers! Turkey, stuffing, the works. The Andersons go all out during this holiday. Want some, Olivia?

Olivia

I’ll never say no to free food. *smiley face*

Lana

How’s my little sister doing all the way in Europe? Meet any hot European men yet?

Grace

You tell her, Lana! I’ve been trying to get her to date. She doesn’t listen.

Lana

I have single guy friends over there. Total catches! Just say the word and I’ll call them up to take you around. *grinning emoji*

I smile and type on the phone. Lana is always busy, flying around for work and I don’t see her as often as I see my brothers, but she’s a blast, and I’m thankful Grace and I have a smart and kind older half sister.

Taylor

Why don’t you hook up with these “great catches,” Lana?

Lana

Who says I haven’t? *wink* Just kidding. Maybe I’m waiting for a certain someone.

Grace

*Squeal* Lana! You can’t drop that without giving us more details!

Grace

And Tay Tay, I hope you had a great performance today. We miss you a lot! We’ll do a makeup Thanksgiving when you’re back.

She sends over a photo of her and Millie with Steven, his siblings, and Millie’s brother, Adrian, in the background.

Grace

Millie misses Ryland a lot. She won’t admit it though.

Belle

Well, she’s in for a surprise then.

Belle

Ah crap, I wasn’t supposed to say anything. Dang it, pregnancy brain! Millie, act surprised when someone rings your door in an hour. *wink wink*

She sends a photo of her and Maxwell at the Anderson Estate with the entire gang minus Ryland. Belle is a picture of radiance in her navy dress, her hands cradling her cute baby bump. After experiencing some fertility issues, she and Maxwell went through IVF and got pregnant.

Grace

You are glowing, Belle! OMG I can’t wait to find out if it’s a boy or a girl! Auntie Grace will pamper the shit out of him or her!

Belle

You’re next, Grace. I’m saving all the cute stuff I buy for you guys.

The girls talk about Belle’s pregnancy and baby showers. I’m reminded of the hollow loneliness I felt at Grace’s wedding, akin to standing in the middle of a busy street, feeling lost while everyone dashes toward their next destinations.

My fingers hover over the keyboard, and I swallow the lump in my throat.

Taylor

Happy Thanksgiving, girls. Wish I was there with you guys. I’m partying it up though!

I attach a photo of my drink and the club, hoping they won’t worry about me.

“Is this seat taken?”

Startling, I glance at the guy standing next to me. He looks a few years older, medium build, kind eyes, floppy brown hair. He smiles, looking uncertain, and waves to the stool vacated by Lisa.

My initial reaction is to reject him, to tell him my friend is sitting here, but then I look at my texts again—my friends happy and moving on with their lives at home—then I glance at Dev and Lisa, who are all over each other on the dance floor. I eye the guy, taking in his appearance again. Button-down dress shirt and jeans. A casual messenger bag. He looks friendly enough. A decent-looking nerd.

Nonthreatening.

My body doesn’t heat in his presence, my heart doesn’t skip a beat.

Unlike how it reacts to a certain god of thunder.

Maybe this is a good chance for me to put myself out there with someone who doesn’t make me feel too much.

“It isn’t taken. Go ahead,” I reply.

“Great.” He sits down next to me and extends his hand. “I’m Jan. I haven’t seen you around here before.”

I arch my brow, a frisson of discomfort flowing through me. “Tammy.” No way I’m giving him my real name. “You come out here a lot?” Appearances can be deceiving. Charles’s words before he danced with me at Grace’s wedding echoes in my ear. What if this guy is just like the businessman from all those years ago? That guy didn’t look threatening, but look what happened?

Breathing in, I push the thought away. I’m not inebriated. My friends are here. I’m in a public place. I can handle this.

Jan chuckles. “It’s a popular spot to decompress. What’s the saying? ‘Work hard, party hard?’”

I smile, setting down my drink on the table. He’s leaning toward me, a charming grin on his face. Shaking my head, I reply, “It’s actually ‘work hard, play hard.’”

“Ah, sorry. My English is so so.”

“I understand you just fine.” Something occurs to me and I frown. “Hold on, how come you know I speak English? You didn’t speak to me in Czech first.” The unease flares up in my gut again.

“Ah. I have to confess, I was looking at you for a long time. You stand out, you know? You have a beautiful aura.” He waves his hand over my face. “I heard you and your friends speaking in English.”

I exhale. Completely reasonable explanation, Taylor. Not everyone is bad. Don’t overreact.

“So tell me, what do you do?” He leans in, clearly interested.

We make some small talk, and slowly I relax again. He hasn’t made advances toward me, but only talks about how he wants to visit New York City and try the pizza there. We have a few rounds of drinks—my nonalcoholic cocktails I got for myself.

I find myself laughing more than I usually do with strangers as excitement simmers inside me. Not because I’m attracted to him, but because I feel fine. This is what a twenty-something-year-old girl should be doing—going out, meeting new people, having fun.

Not being afraid of life.

Jan downs a shot and cracks another joke. They’re getting more horrible by the minute.

“Okay, get this. I have a friend in the city who’s good at chess. Do you know what I call him?”

My lips twitch as I shake my head. This is so ridiculous.

“He’s my Czech mate.” Jan busts out laughing and pounds the bar top and I snicker, because his smile is infectious. His phone rings and he holds up a finger. “Excuse me, I have to get this. Save me the seat, okay?”

I nod, and he heads toward the entrance. Bopping my head to the music, I let out a satisfied sigh, thankful I’m relaxed and relieved at how my panic hasn’t appeared tonight.

Suddenly, I feel someone’s gaze drilling into my back and my pulse speeds up.

I know it’s him before he whispers seconds later, “Him, really? Why?”

My heart lodges in my throat as I drag my gaze to Charles, who looks like he hurried here from wherever he came from, his golden hair slightly unkempt, tie loosened around his neck. My core clenches—he looks so good—a virile fallen angel.

His jaw tics as he stares at me with his stormy eyes.

The peace and calm I felt in Jan’s presence are completely obliterated by the turbulent heat emanating from the alpha male towering over me. Every atom in my body thrums and vibrates as I fight an impulse to touch him—the enticing scruff on his jaw, the vein protruding on his forehead. Then I want him to hold me in his arms as I listen to his thudding heartbeat.

This is why I can’t do this with him. My emotions are too involved.

“You disgust me. I-I just can’t be with you. I can’t forget. I just can’t,” Camden’s voice whispers in my mind and I inwardly flinch.

He loved me too. And I liked him a lot. Look how that turned out.

“Why him, Taylor? Why do you trust him more than me?” Charles’s raspy voice draws me back to him. His breath hitches, his voice pained. My heart throbs in my chest, desperate to throw myself against him.

I’ve never felt this way about anyone before.

If Camden could hurt me so much, imagine what Charles could do.

I swallow a few sips of my drink. “We were just chatting, Charles.”

“He’s into you. Even the blind could see that. He was all over you and you were—” He stops himself, his voice hitching.

“What are you talking about?” I shrug nonchalantly.

A chill befalls his features and a muscle tics in his jaw.

“I see.” His voice is quiet—too quiet. “I told myself to be patient. I knew you were scared because of what happened to you in the past. I was ready to wait for you because I knew you felt the connection between us, but I guess,” he scoffs, “I’m just stupid for thinking a self-professed badass would come to her senses.”

Fuck, the man always knows exactly what to say to rile me up. Ignoring the twinge of guilt inside me, I narrow my eyes. “Or maybe you aren’t as memorable as you think you are. Don’t think so highly of yourself.”

Charles’s eyes flash, a muscle twitching in his jaw. “Oh yeah? Well, I bet he can’t make you feel this way.” He leans in, his breath ghosting over my neck, and I bite my lip to keep from moaning and leaning into him.

He rasps, “Your breathing is fast. I see the goosebumps on your neck. Your eyes are dilated. And I bet if I were to slip my fingers between your legs, you’d be soaking wet.”

My pussy pulses at his erotic words. His sexy cologne wafts to my nose, and all my senses heighten in awareness.

He presses a light kiss at the tender spot where my ear meets my neck and I shiver, heat churning through my veins. “Only I can make you feel like this,” he whispers.

I want to lean into him, to touch him, kiss him, to say yes to taking off our masks and being naked with each other. Physically. Emotionally.

I also want to dry heave on to the floor and I wonder if this reclaiming my body and pleasure thing is too much for me. If I’m not ready.

I push him away. “Not. Interested.”

He steps closer into my space, our bodies inches away. My resolve weakens by the second. “You’re scared because you know what you’re feeling is real. Admit it,” he grits out.

“Is this man bothering you, Tammy?” Jan appears next to us, his brows furrowed.

Tearing my gaze away from Charles, I reply, “Yes, he is. Let’s dance.”

Slipping off my stool, I grab Jan’s hand and pull him to the dance floor, completely aware of Charles’s lasered focus on my back the entire time.

As I move to the music, with Jan dancing next to me, I can’t help myself but look back at the bar.

Charles stands there, his hands fisted at his sides, his eyes anguished. He looks completely gutted. He shakes his head and chugs down a drink before slamming the glass back on the table and storming off.

The hollow ache from earlier spreads inside me. What am I doing? Why am I sabotaging myself?

Jan grins, giving my arm a squeeze. “A beautiful girl like you shouldn’t be frowning. I’ll make it my mission to help you forget your troubles. Let’s dance your worries away.”

He pulls me against his chest, which feels completely different than the strong, muscular frame of the man I can’t forget, the man I want to run to this moment, the man I very much regret hurting.

I need to find Charles and tell him I’m sorry.

My feet move toward where Charles was standing moments ago, but Jan drags me back to him.

“Tammy, having fun?” His hands slide around my waist, gliding lower and lower.

And lower.

“Get your hands off me!” I shout, but the words are drowned out by the loud music.

Panic rises inside me as my heart pounds rapidly inside my chest. I shake my head, my hands trying to dislodge his from around my waist. He doesn’t back off, but pulls me flushed against him, and I feel a distinct bulge at my back.

He’s hard.

Horror churns through me.

Danger. Run.

I struggle, but Jan is stronger than he appears. His fingers dig into my hips.

“Come on, baby. You were enjoying yourself earlier. We were having fun, right? Don’t be shy.” His breath reeks of alcohol.

No, this can’t be happening. Not again.

Snippets of my nightmare barrel into my thoughts.

The charming dark-haired man in an expensive suit handing me, a sixteen-year-old who didn’t know any better, a flute of champagne.

“This is a secret between us, okay?” He winked.

My skin warmed, and I shyly took the drink from him, even as a small pinch of guilt settled inside me for thinking this man was hot, even though I had a great boyfriend in Camden.

But hey, that’s just a normal biological reaction, right? Just because I’m happily taken doesn’t mean I’m blind.

“Here’s to our future prima ballerina, Taylor. You’ll go places,” the man whispered, clinking his glass with mine.

He stared at me as I took a drink, his eyes darkening.

Minutes later, the world spun around me, my limbs growing heavy.

Jan grabs my ass and groans in my ear, shocking me back to the present. “Having fun, Tammy? Relaxing yet?”

No, motherfucker.

Over my dead body.

“Let me go.”

Gritting my teeth, I spin around and knee him in the balls; the movement causing me to almost trip as the strobe lights flash into my eyes. I vaguely hear his screech of pain as I break into a run, my body pitching, my arms braced in front of me, pushing anyone in the vicinity out of the way. My pulse roars against my ears, icy adrenaline coursing through my veins.

I try to focus on the crowd before me, but their faces merge into one. There’s no way I can find Lisa or Dev in my current state.

I look back, finding Jan’s face flushed with fury, hot on my heels.

Fuck.

Panic joins the chaos inside me, my breathing sawing through my lungs too fast, making me disoriented. I push people out of the way, my legs carrying me as fast as I can through the crowds toward the entrance where the bouncers are. The lights are flashing too brightly, the music too loud; a few bodies smash into me, slowing me down.

Terror curdles inside my gut. I need help. Shit. Fingers trembling, I take out my phone and press a few buttons.

I call the only person I trust.