Page 4 of Reckless Games

“Wow.” My eyes widen as I take it in.

Stella giggles beside me, and I try to compose myself, realizing I’m giving myself away with my reactions.

“I know right.” Stella nudges me sweetly. “This place is out of this world. I’m going to go mingle. But I’ll catch you later.”

She spins in front of me and winks.

“Nice to meet you, Ivy.”

Ivy.

My sister’s name spins in my gut as I watch Stella disappear. Knowing Ivy and being her are two different things, and I’m not sure I’m cut out for the challenge.

Running my hands down my sides, I’m reminded I have no pockets. No phone. No Instagram app to obsess over Josh and his girlfriend. It’s just me here. And I’m pretending to be another person.

Adjusting my black and gold mask once more, I take in a deep breath to calm my nerves.

Ivy could do this—I can do this.

I deserve it. I’m twenty-five and single. I can’t spend another three hundred and sixty-five days drowning in boredom and loneliness. I’m making a change.

Rolling my shoulders back, I make my way through the room, and once again the familiar tingle creeps my spine like there are eyes on me, even if everyone seems lost in conversation.

I should probably take Stella’s lead and mingle, but it’s not something I’m good at when I’m used to a small town where everyone knows everyone else, and everyone here is a stranger. At least the mask gives me something to hide behind. My shield as I nervously scan the room.

Making my way to the bar, I’m thankful it’s stocked with a row of pre-poured glasses of champagne. Maybe the bubbles can get me out of my head. Picking one up, I take a sip to dull my nerves.

I need this. I want this.

After another sip, my confidence rises back up to the surface, and I know it’s time to mingle.

I spin around, ready to face my fears, but my view of the room is blocked by a brick wall of a man standing directly in front of me in his perfectly fitted black suit. He’s paired it with a black dress shirt, dark gray tie, and simple black mask, like an omen of danger.

With the mask covering half his face, he’s partially hidden, but what little I can see leaves a lump in my throat.

He’s tall, and the way his suit hugs his lean body and thick shoulders tells me he’s likely solid muscle. His square jaw ticks, and the soft stubble dusting it is somehow perfectly trimmed while giving his polished appearance an edge. His dark hair is styled, but long enough to be tousled, a rogue piece hanging over his forehead as he dips his chin down to look at me.

And those eyes—gray as a stormy sea. A ship’s reckoning. They pull me under.

“Hi,” I choke out.

Awkward as ever, I sayhito the most gorgeous, masked man I’ve ever been face to face with. Not that I’m well-versed in masked men, or gorgeous men. Or men in general, seeing as I’ve only been in one relationship my entire life, and that went down like a sinking ship.

“Good to see you made it.” The man says, tilting his head ever so slightly.

My stomach flips at his attention. His stormy eyes. His words.

He knows my sister well enough to recognize me under the mask, and he was hoping she’d be here.

“Of course.” I take another sip of champagne.

This was a terrible idea. The worst I’ve ever had. Pretending to be Ivy in a room of strangers is one thing. But she knows this man. And I’m not sure if I’m nervous or jealous as he seems happy to see me—her.

He dips his chin down further, stepping in. Close enough to drown my senses in his rich cinnamon scent.

“Enjoying my party?”

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