Page 62 of The Facade

Did he have some sort of dare going on, too? Was this just like the thing with Ben?

He pinched his eyes shut and squeezed the bridge of his nose. “I’m only looking over my shoulder to make sure Carter isn’t paying attention to us.”

What?

“Why would that be a problem?”

Mack shrugged his broad shoulders. “Carter just said something earlier and, um, I think his protective older-brother instincts have been alerted.”

His older-brother instincts?

“What do you mean?” I frowned. “Are you saying Carter doesn’t want us dancing?” I pointed between him and myself.

“Yes,” Mack said. “At least, that’s the vibe I got from him earlier when we walked into the dance together.”

“That’s weird.”

Carter had never really liked Mack teasing me about going to the falls, since he knew kissing girls was just a game to Mack, but he’d never had an issue with us hanging out before.

Had he somehow found out I was done with Ben and worried that my old crush on Mack had instantly come back?

Because even if I had caught myself looking at Mack a few times over the past fifteen minutes and maybe noticed that he did in fact know how to pull off the suit and cravat just as good as any actor in a regency movie, that didn’t mean I liked him in that way.

Mack had always been on a different level than me, and I had learned long ago that crushing on him would only leave me sad and frustrated.

“It’s a little surprising,” Mack said. “But since Carter worrying about me dancing with his sister while he’s dancing with mine is a bit hypocritical, I don’t think we need to worry about that.”

I laughed. “Pretty sure you and me dancing is way less scandalous than what he and Ava do when they’re alone.”

Mack scrunched up his nose. “Yeah, not exactly something I’d like to picture in too much detail.”

“You’re lucky you don’t live with your sisters,” I said. “It’s harder to accidentally walk in on a make-out session when you don’t share the same house.”

“I’ll just take your word for it.” He winked. “So leaving protective brothers out of the scenario, what do you say? Do you think it’s okay for pretty faeries to dance with British nobility?” He gestured at his costume and mine. “Or is it more fun to hang out in that dark corner?”

“The dark corner is pretty underrated,” I said with a shrug. “But since you asked so nicely, I’ll leave it waiting just a little longer.”

“I’ll have to send it my apologies later.” His mouth stretched into a wide smile, like he was actually glad I’d said yes.

He pulled me into the dance position, taking my right hand in his and letting his other hand rest just under my shoulder blade to support my other arm. And even though we were just dancing as friends and there was definitely nothing romantic going on between us, as he pulled me closer, a slight spark of electricity shot through my body.

Oh no. It was happening again.

My body was having some sort of muscle-memory reaction where it thought it needed to act all jittery every time we were close now.

“Are you dressed up as anyone specific?” I asked, hoping that if I could distract him with conversation, he wouldn’t notice how much my body liked being close to him.

“What?” He arched an eyebrow, a slight smile on his lips. “You can’t tell?”

“Well,” I said. “You do look like someone from a Jane Austen novel. Are you supposed to be one of her characters?”

“Did Jane Austen writeBridgerton?”

I laughed. “No.”

“Then no. I’m not your beloved Mr. Darcy.” He chuckled.

“So if you mentionedBridgerton,” I said. “Does that mean that you’re dressed as the Duke of Hastings?”

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