Page 10 of Lucky Strike

“Let’s go, then,” he said, tugging her greedily away.

“Hold on.” Maeve glanced at me, fluttering her fingers. “You wanna come?”

“I’m good for now.” I tried not to look at Callum’s hand, hovering near her butt. “Maybe later.”

The current rapsong hit funny, so anachronistic considering our Elizabethan surroundings. Portia danced by with someone in purple breeches and a feathered hat right as the music morphed into the Cha-Cha Slide. The crowd cheered, arranging itself into messy rows. I was shuffling along with everyone else when I saw a group of boys near the window, snickering and shoving as they drank from flasks.

The one in the middle had on a dark green doublet and a crown of golden branches resting in his dark hair. His eyes caught mine and he smirked, knowing I’d been staring. My heart tripped over itself, and I snatched my gaze away, my face hot. But he was still looking at me from beneath his mask when I peeked a second later, that smile still tugging at his lips. I couldn’t help but smile back, pulled into the warmth of his stare despite the rowdy boys surrounding him, their feistiness at odds with his stillness. Were they Maeve’s cousins? Family friends?

Delphine passed by, snatching my hand and my attention. “Team meeting,” she whispered, which meant it was time to drink. I went with her this time, and we finished off the bottle that everyone had been drinking from all night. I hoped no one had mono. Back at the party, Delphine abandoned me for some girl she’d been flirting with, and I returned to the terrace for a breather.

“Let me guess,” said a voice. “Juliet.” My heart jolted as I looked up at the boy-king, who’d appeared beside me. He flashed that knowing smile again, and I could tell, even with a mask covering half of his face, that he was good-looking. “Or maybe Rosaline.”

“Or maybe I’m just a generic maiden.”

“I doubt it.” He looked me up and down, taking in my puffed, gauzy sleeves and fitted bodice, the flowers in my hair. “Hero.”

I gaped at him. “I can’t believe you figured that out.”

“Lucky guess.”

“You know your Shakespeare,” I said.

“Guilty,”he admitted. “We were always going to plays and ballets and stuff when I was growing up. My family lives for that stuff.” His cross necklace, which looked like real gold, glinted in the lamplight.

His eyes traveled over me, a contrast of dark eyelashes and light, almost silvery eyes. Was he wearing contacts? I huffed softly, wondering if he’d be so attentive had I come as one of Macbeth’s witches. “Who are you supposed to be? King Lear?”

He shook his head slowly.

“Romeo?”

“Really? And here I thought we were so well suited.”

I paused. “Claudio?”

He seemed pleased as he touched a sprig of baby’s breath in my hair. “Serendipitous, huh?”

I tried to temper my smile. “How so?”

“Out of all the girls here, I found the one dressed as Hero,” he said, edging closer.

“Actually, my friends and I all came dressed as Hero,” I said, waving a hand toward my skirt.

“Oh, I know you did. I saw the three of you earlier,” he volleyed back.

Maybe it was the alcohol, but I thrilled at the thought of him noticing us. Me. “Then you know you’ve got at least two other perfect matches.”

“Or just one.”

My heart flipped violently at his brazenness. What was his angle? Was heactuallyflirting with me or was this all just a party game? “You know, I don’t think Claudio wears a crown.”

“This one does,” he said, cracking another smile. God, he was cute.

The group of boys he’d been with had come outside too, and they lingered nearby. “Are they your band of merry men?”

He gave a half-shrug, glancing back at them. “You could say that.”

My phone vibrated from deep within a hidden pocket. Pulling it out, I glanced down to see a text from Portia to the group chat.

---