Page 48 of The Masks We Wear

Just then, William leans close, asking Remy something. She points to the hall behind my kitchen, shakes her head, and points to the stairs. He must have asked about the bathroom.

Perfect.

I tuck a stray hair behind my ear and fix my shirt before waving my fingers at Amora. “Put on a little show before the big finale.”

She grins, shaking her head before floating down the stairs. She stopped asking a long time ago why I put so much effort into messing with Spencer. Not sure if she thinks it’s still about the project or if she knows better and is just having fun. Either way, she’s more than willing to partake in my game.

William rounds the banister and saunters up the stairs. Depending on whether he’s seen a picture of me will affect my plan, so I take the cautious approach, leaning against the wall and scrolling on my phone.

When he speaks, I have to force myself to keep composure. It’s deep—deeper than any eighteen-year-old I’ve ever heard, and husky. “Well, hello there, sugar.”

I peer up from my phone and bite my tongue. He is hotter than sin up close. A set of four freckles decorate his prominent jaw under some light stubble. His lips are full, and I think any woman would kill for his eyelashes. And while his body looks to be carved out of marble, it’s not the sexiest thing about him. It’s his eyes. They are a dark forest green that you could happily get lost in.

Somehow I find my voice and make it as sultry as possible. “Hey. New around here?”

THE HAIRSon the back of my neck stand up straight, tingling the nerves in my scalp. There’s a coolness in the air that seeps into my fucking skin, setting my spine at full attention. Maybe it’s because I’m back in this damn house or that every blonde that passes in my peripherals makes my shoulders tense.

It’s like waiting for the other shoe to drop, knowing that something is bound to happen because of what I did. I shouldn’t have kissed her. I mean, that’s fucking obvious, but I couldn’t help it.

Now, my nerves are shot to hell as I mull over her possible responses.

After a few more minutes, I realize we’re done with our second beer, and William still isn’t back. “What is taking him so damn long?”

“Maybe he’s found a girl to entertain himself.” Remy shrugs, handing me a shot.

We agreed on no open drinks, but Remy has a good way of reading people, and I can tell she’s trying to calm me down. “Or maybe Amora caught up to him.”

I shake my head, gesturing to the large group around the fireplace. “She’s over there. But you know who I haven’t seen? At her own party, no less?”

The thought pierces through me, a hot flow of emotions boiling the contents of my stomach. There’s no way.

“I’ll be right back. Don’t leave.” She nods, but when her eyes drift to Blaze, sitting on the back of the couch, I can’t help but groan inwardly. “Stay here, Remy.”

“Yeah, yeah. Go get William.” She shoos me off, tilting the beer bottle to her lips.

“Fine.” I grimace but leave her, making a beeline for the stairs.

As soon as I touch the banister, I feel it. It’s like an electric shock to my nerves, warning me to stop now. But like the dumb ass I am, I keep going. Each step is heavy, weighted by something I can’t seem to shake. The higher I climb, the faster my pulse thrums in my veins.

Then I hear it. The moans and cries I heard just this week. They’re a little different now—high and strained, almost forced. But the same voice nonetheless.

I reach the top, knowing what I’m going to see, but it doesn’t matter. My heart bottoms out, flopping into my stomach like a fish out of water.

William is mauling at her neck like a fucking animal, his hands twisted in her hair, pulling her neck back just enough to give him better access. One tan leg is wrapped around his waist, her heel digging into his jean pocket. Her hands claw at his back, trying to pull him somehow closer than he already is.

My mouth is dry; a cotton ball lodged in the back. When I try to swallow around the knot, I almost choke from the pressure.

Of fucking course she would pull this shit. It’s all she had left to do. She’s engrained herself into every aspect of my fucking life, so I can’t escape her. Everywhere I look, there she is. My project, my friend’s tongue, my backyard.

The air thins out, and I decide this is it. I need to leave. Grab Remy and just fucking go. But just as I move to turn back downstairs, Lily’s eyes open and find mine.

I did it. I finally got under his sturdy ass armor.

The look on Spencer’s face is a pure mix of rage and agony. His lips are parted, and crimson red is flushing up his neck and spreading across his cheeks. His breaths are shallow, and I pity the flesh at his knuckles that’s blossoming white from the tight clench.

He’s battling what to do. I can see it in the tic of his jaw.

Should he yell? Throw this guy off me? Or instead, just watch?

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