Page 44 of Mariposa
Sure enough, my mother isn’t here. Isabella, my older sister, isn’t here to tease me.
No one showed up for me.
A burn hits my chest, but it disappears as quickly as it came.
I don’t fall apart.
I will not.
Humming softly, I hold my breath as a storm of emotions tramples my insides.
No one came.
Something in the far corner, a massive dark aura, where the shadows are greater, catches my attention. Even in the darkness, he still manages to pull my attraction like a magnet.
Those mismatched eyes are locked straight into mine. The way we hold each other’s stare makes me feel like we’re all alone, and it’s just us two.
Still with that same stoic expression, he brings his hands together and claps for me, dipping his head once, acknowledging my existence despite trying to scare me away last night. I glance back at the Colonel, who’s trying to ask me a question, but his voice sounds like static because the man everyone calls a legend has me entranced. Before I answer, I blink fast—the need to sneak another glance at Beast possesses me.
I peer back to the corner where he’s standing, but he’s already gone.
Straightened hair.Red dress. Red lips. Freckles. Heels. My favorite perfume is on my neck. My cross necklace settled against my collarbone—it feels good to feel like I’m more than a soldier tonight.
I’m more nervous about socializing than graduating because I can’t remember the last time I wore a dress—it almost makes me feel silly. Still, after a year of nothing more than consistent training, I walk into the Drunken Shell, feeling like a woman rejuvenated.
Despite it being wintertime, it’s relatively humid tonight. Before I grab hold of the silver handle, a breeze hits me, causing the ends of my dress to whip around my thighs.
Pushing the black doors in, I enter the Drunken Shell—sailors, soldiers, Marines shouting and laughing everywhere.The pool tables are all occupied, the dance floor is crowded, and the bar is jam-packed. It’s a full house tonight, which is not shocking for a Friday.
As soon as the doors close behind me, regret fuels me.
I want to run back to my bedroom and spend the night alone, with a book in hand andThe Officeplaying in the background. I’d take that over leaving my bedroom during my free time any day.
It’s too late to turn around because Booker and Kade turn toward me. I swear my cheeks heat, most likely reddening the apples of my cheeks. When I look at Kade, all I can see is his soft lips and mustache brushing against my fingers like the night of the shower.
We had a weird moment of weakness—a moment I want to keep all to myself. It stays between us, but now I know there’s an attraction that goes both ways, even if he wants to pretend it didn’t happen.
He does a double-take while lifting a glass of what I can only assume is whiskey to his lips. Booker smiles from ear to ear and waves me over. Kade lifts his scarred brow while looking at Booker with a questioning expression. He scoffs, shaking his head, and even from a few feet away, I can see his jaw flex hard. He fixes his gaze on the opposite side of the bar counter.
Who is he talking to?
“Over here, Mariposa!” My brows knit together, and I gaze around me.
Is he talking to me?
Mariposa?
“Yes, you, Violet Isla. Get over here.” Booker shakes his head. As soon as I near, he kicks Slater off his chair. Slater throws me a glare before standing behind Kade and whoever he’s talking to.
“So why butterfly?”
“It’s your call sign.”
“Really?”
“Mhm,” he hums and takes a swig of his Shiner Bock.
“What are the rules for call signs, and may I have another?”
