The Pledge
Page 13
“Do I know you?” I asked, but I realized immediately that I did. I’d seen him before. “From the restaurant,” I amended. “You were there tonight.”
Strong black brows drew together as he watched me, his expression unreadable. I felt like I was being inspected, but in an entirely different way from the bouncer at the front door. Something dark and unrecognizable tangled in the pit of my stomach, something uncertain.
He was larger than I’d remembered, entirely too large for the crowded space in which we stood, making me feel childlike and small. He took up far too much room, breathed far too much air.
The skin at the nape of my neck tightened, my head clearing instantly as the drug that had been bleeding through my system evaporated in a blink. In fact, all of my senses were heightened as my eyes remained fastened on his.
“I wasn’t sure you’d be h B7;t 17;d be ere tonight.” His voice was low—almost hushed—despite the loud music pounding around us.
“Yeah, me either. I wasn’t sure I’d be anywhere tonight,” I shot back.
He raised one brow uncertainly. “Is this a bad time? If you’d rather be alone, I’ll go.”
I could feel the restless crowd around us. If I’d really wanted to be alone, Prey would be the last place I’d be. But I suddenly felt trapped by his cool, flint-colored eyes. They were disquieting in a way I didn’t understand. My breath lodged in my throat, and I had the strangest feeling that I should look away from him. Yet I was captivated.
“It’s—it’s okay,” I finally managed, and that tangle knotted deeper, taut threads of hesitant emotions. The feeling that he was to be avoided deepened.
He frowned, but his lips quirked. “Good, because it was an empty offer. I had every intention of staying. I’m Max.” His smile grew, and I could tell, too, that he was teasing me. I wished in that moment that I could be more like Brook. I wished that I was more confident around boys. He held his hand out to me.
When I didn’t take it, he drew it back and rubbed it along his jaw, a nothing of a gesture, yet I couldn’t help noting that he was almost too graceful when he moved.
There was a long silence as the music changed. I knew I should tell him my name, but instead I turned my gaze away from him, feigning interest in the dancers on the stage above us. The truth was, though, all I really noticed was him, stealing surreptitious glances whenever I could. His clothing was finer than anything I’d ever seen before—even the silk Aron had given me—and without meaning to, my fingers inched up, straining to stroke the rich fabric of his jacket. Just once.
I caught myself in time, dropping my hand back to my side and jerking my chin up a notch, thankful that I’d stopped myself before actually touching him, before making a fool of myself. It was then that I saw him smiling at me, for me, and my heart stopped.
I turned to look at him. The hard planes of his face softened, and suddenly he was dangerously boyish. And beautiful. Far too beautiful. And, like the fabric of his coat, my fingers itched to touch him . . . to rake through his short, dark hair, to feel his smooth-shaven jaw, to trace my thumb across his full lower lip.
I jolted. What was I thinking? Maybe I was too much like Brooklynn!
“I—I changed my mind. I think I should go.” I fumbled over my words as I stepped backward . . . first one awkward step, and then another.
Max frowned, reaching out to stop me. “Wait. Don’t leave.” I could feel the warmth—and the strength—of his fingertips seeping through the simple dress I wore, and I suddenly wished that I’d let Brooklynn talk me into borrowing one of hers. They weren’t any newer, but the fabrics were richer. And infinitely more revealing. I wondered what his touch would feel like against my bare skin.
I lifted my eyes to his, marveling at his thick fringe of dark lashes, and once more was unnerved by the sensation that I shouldn’t do that, that I was meant to look away. I reminded myself that here—in the Blf t12;in th club—class bore no distinction. Even if it was only an illusion.
But that thought emboldened me, and I let a half smile find my lips as I tipped my head to the side. “Why would you care if I go?”
I was rewarded by a grin even as he released my arm. It was a fair exchange. “I was hoping you might at least tell me your name. It’s the least you could do, since I came here to see you.” His eyebrow lifted, and my pulse quickened.
I shook my head, certain he was still teasing me. Surely it was Brooklynn he’d meant to meet up with. But I decided to play along. “So what’s the deal, do you have a thing for the underdog best friend? Or was it the fact that I nearly got myself sent to the gallows that attracted you?”
A troubled look crossed Max’s face, and I realized that, like Brooklynn, he wasn’t amused by the predicament I’d gotten myself into with the Counsel girl. But his next words had nothing to do with what he’d overheard at the restaurant. “Do you not realize how beautiful you are?” he asked, leaning closer.
My face grew warm, and then hot.
I heard Brooklynn then, her voice rising above all else, even the music. Her laughter was musical and throaty, and just the thing to break the spell I was under. I turned to find her, searching the crowd, and spotting her glossy black curls easily.
“I’m sorry, I have to go,” I explained, but only as an afterthought, and only over my shoulder. I pushed my way forward, moving through hands and arms as I eased my way through the supple, shifting crowd to get to Brook.
Strong black brows drew together as he watched me, his expression unreadable. I felt like I was being inspected, but in an entirely different way from the bouncer at the front door. Something dark and unrecognizable tangled in the pit of my stomach, something uncertain.
He was larger than I’d remembered, entirely too large for the crowded space in which we stood, making me feel childlike and small. He took up far too much room, breathed far too much air.
The skin at the nape of my neck tightened, my head clearing instantly as the drug that had been bleeding through my system evaporated in a blink. In fact, all of my senses were heightened as my eyes remained fastened on his.
“I wasn’t sure you’d be h B7;t 17;d be ere tonight.” His voice was low—almost hushed—despite the loud music pounding around us.
“Yeah, me either. I wasn’t sure I’d be anywhere tonight,” I shot back.
He raised one brow uncertainly. “Is this a bad time? If you’d rather be alone, I’ll go.”
I could feel the restless crowd around us. If I’d really wanted to be alone, Prey would be the last place I’d be. But I suddenly felt trapped by his cool, flint-colored eyes. They were disquieting in a way I didn’t understand. My breath lodged in my throat, and I had the strangest feeling that I should look away from him. Yet I was captivated.
“It’s—it’s okay,” I finally managed, and that tangle knotted deeper, taut threads of hesitant emotions. The feeling that he was to be avoided deepened.
He frowned, but his lips quirked. “Good, because it was an empty offer. I had every intention of staying. I’m Max.” His smile grew, and I could tell, too, that he was teasing me. I wished in that moment that I could be more like Brook. I wished that I was more confident around boys. He held his hand out to me.
When I didn’t take it, he drew it back and rubbed it along his jaw, a nothing of a gesture, yet I couldn’t help noting that he was almost too graceful when he moved.
There was a long silence as the music changed. I knew I should tell him my name, but instead I turned my gaze away from him, feigning interest in the dancers on the stage above us. The truth was, though, all I really noticed was him, stealing surreptitious glances whenever I could. His clothing was finer than anything I’d ever seen before—even the silk Aron had given me—and without meaning to, my fingers inched up, straining to stroke the rich fabric of his jacket. Just once.
I caught myself in time, dropping my hand back to my side and jerking my chin up a notch, thankful that I’d stopped myself before actually touching him, before making a fool of myself. It was then that I saw him smiling at me, for me, and my heart stopped.
I turned to look at him. The hard planes of his face softened, and suddenly he was dangerously boyish. And beautiful. Far too beautiful. And, like the fabric of his coat, my fingers itched to touch him . . . to rake through his short, dark hair, to feel his smooth-shaven jaw, to trace my thumb across his full lower lip.
I jolted. What was I thinking? Maybe I was too much like Brooklynn!
“I—I changed my mind. I think I should go.” I fumbled over my words as I stepped backward . . . first one awkward step, and then another.
Max frowned, reaching out to stop me. “Wait. Don’t leave.” I could feel the warmth—and the strength—of his fingertips seeping through the simple dress I wore, and I suddenly wished that I’d let Brooklynn talk me into borrowing one of hers. They weren’t any newer, but the fabrics were richer. And infinitely more revealing. I wondered what his touch would feel like against my bare skin.
I lifted my eyes to his, marveling at his thick fringe of dark lashes, and once more was unnerved by the sensation that I shouldn’t do that, that I was meant to look away. I reminded myself that here—in the Blf t12;in th club—class bore no distinction. Even if it was only an illusion.
But that thought emboldened me, and I let a half smile find my lips as I tipped my head to the side. “Why would you care if I go?”
I was rewarded by a grin even as he released my arm. It was a fair exchange. “I was hoping you might at least tell me your name. It’s the least you could do, since I came here to see you.” His eyebrow lifted, and my pulse quickened.
I shook my head, certain he was still teasing me. Surely it was Brooklynn he’d meant to meet up with. But I decided to play along. “So what’s the deal, do you have a thing for the underdog best friend? Or was it the fact that I nearly got myself sent to the gallows that attracted you?”
A troubled look crossed Max’s face, and I realized that, like Brooklynn, he wasn’t amused by the predicament I’d gotten myself into with the Counsel girl. But his next words had nothing to do with what he’d overheard at the restaurant. “Do you not realize how beautiful you are?” he asked, leaning closer.
My face grew warm, and then hot.
I heard Brooklynn then, her voice rising above all else, even the music. Her laughter was musical and throaty, and just the thing to break the spell I was under. I turned to find her, searching the crowd, and spotting her glossy black curls easily.
“I’m sorry, I have to go,” I explained, but only as an afterthought, and only over my shoulder. I pushed my way forward, moving through hands and arms as I eased my way through the supple, shifting crowd to get to Brook.
