Page 100 of Masks and Mishaps

I close my eyes and skim my lips against his. A beat later, stopping is the most difficult thing I’ve ever done.

I move from his lap and go to the door, where I pause with my hand on the doorknob. I look back at Dalton, and like the day I met him, I can’t comprehend how a man could be so incomprehensibly good inside and out—and that he was almost mine.

“I wish we’d had forever,” I murmur. “I think we both deserve it.”

And I wasn’t lying. I’m never going to get over him.

Thirty-Five

DALTON

Essieistipsy,whichwould normally be cute, but she’s tipsy because of me. Seated at the opposite end of the long table (and barely visible over the humungous Thanksgiving turkey), she’s on her second glass of wine and keeps looking over like she’s wondering if I miss her.

Sweetheart, all I do is miss you.All I’m ever going to do is miss you.

“I’m not eating the brussels sprouts,” Lander protests, pulling my attention from Essie.

Valeria releases a long sigh. “Stop being a baby. Losing a fight to Everett is a meaningless feat.”

“It’s like one dandelion spore floating higher than the other,” Cora chimes in. “The wind picks the winner.”

On my other side, Everett chuckles into his own glass of wine. “The wind would pick me every time.”

“For the last time, you’re not actually one with the Earth, Everett,” Lander snaps, dropping his fork onto his plate with a clatter.

Smirking, Everett faces Luis on Cora’s other side and gestures toward Lander. “He’s jealous of me.”

Luis nods without hesitation. “Yeah, I see that.”

Eyes narrowed, Lander cranes past Valeria to look at Tommy, “You’re on my side, right?”

Tommy is aggressively working through his second helping of mashed potatoes, but he bobs his head. “One hundred percent, Lan.”

Essie cranes her neck. “Can you two please stop trying to turn my brothers against each other? I don’t need you breaking up my family,” she calls down the table.

Right then, Christian, across from Essie, looks at me and snickers.

Essie’s jaw lowers slowly. “What was that?” she questions. “Did you just—”

“Whatever, Essie,” Christian mutters before rolling his eyes and looking at his dinner.

…and the room fallssilent. Good. I’m not sure how everyone else heard Christian talk back to my girl, but I’m glad they did—

“Dalton, you’re bleeding,” Valeria gasps. She reaches over Lander to press her cloth napkin against a newly-formed gash on my palm, stopping a thin trail of blood before it drips onto my mom’s antique rug.

Shit. I didn’t even notice I broke my water glass, and now that I’m looking around, I realize everyone is staring at me, not Christian. Christian’s face has paled, and I’m confused until Everett clears his throat and gestures like he’s drawing a circle in the air around his own face.

…I’m death-staring this kid.

“Dalton is clumsy,” my mother comments, and it takes every bit of willpower I have left not to object because I know she’s covering for me. But for the record, I’m sonot-clumsy that I can do “Thriller” while blackout drunk.

Nursing my injured hand, I go to the bar in the corner of the dining room where my mom keeps a small gold bucket of ice to remind everyone how extra she is. I’m not surprised when Essie joins me seconds later.

“Let me see.” She reaches for me.

Reluctantly, I unfurl my grip and pull the napkin away to reveal a shallow cut.

“Dalton.”

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