Page 80 of Hyperspeed
I pushed past guests whose faces I knew but couldn’t remember, offering polite smiles as I went. “That was close,” I called over my shoulder, but there was no response. When I turned to look for Jax, he was nowhere to be seen. “Where the fuck did he go?”
The room was getting busier, if that were even possible. Someone had dimmed the lights for ambience, and jazz music played in the background. Once the alcohol flowed and the dance floor opened, the DJ would switch to trashy pop hits and classic bangers.
Servers in waistcoats roamed the room, balancing large trays of canapes. I was almost decapitated more than once when they got too close and I wasn’t paying attention.
The smell of food made my tummy rumble, and the posh snacks looked tasty despite being tiny. I grabbed a handful, knowing they wouldn’t touch the sides, to keep myself going until dinner was served.
Eventually, I made it to the lobby, where I could take a full breath.
The bar here was much quieter, and I took a seat on one of the high stools, ordering a second whiskey sour from the bartender. The nearby lift pinged as I received my drink, and when I turned to see if it was someone I knew, my mouth went dry when Rev walked out.
He’d tied his long hair in a messy bun at the back of his head, revealing his long neck and sharp jaw. Strands fell loose around his face, but he didn’t lookunkempt. No, he looked sleek, fashionable, and his dark hair shimmered under the lobby’s crystal chandeliers.
His lips shone, and silver highlighted his eyes, the understated makeup accentuating his sharp, androgynous features.
Rev’s deep indigo suit, moulded to his body, featured constellations embroidered in silver thread on the lapels.
Instead of a shirt and tie, he’d chosen a black mesh top with a low-cut neckline, and a silver belt that held his skinny, high-waisted trousers up, co-ordinated with a silver buckle on his shiny black loafers.
He was fucking gorgeous.
Rev stopped when he caught me staring, and the visible lines on his skin pulsed the colour of marmalade. He raised his hand in an awkward wave, and I offered a warm smile, hoping to put him more at ease.
It didn’t, because he stood there like a statue, hand still raised as he glanced between the ballroom entrance and the bar.
I sighed.
Time to take a more direct approach.
“You coming over or what, rookie?” I called out, and the words echoed off the high ceilings.
I didn’t intend for my voice to carry that much, but the acoustics in here were next level. It worked, though, spurring Rev into action. He dropped his hand and strode through the lobby, glaring in a way that made my dick take interest.
Down, boy.
“You’re such a barbarian,” he grumbled, climbing onto the stool beside me. Our knees brushed, and I swear a shock of electricity flew up my thigh and straight to my groin. “Can’t take you anywhere.”
“I had to get your attention, Revvy,” I teased. “You were standing there like a right melon.”
“I was not.”
The bartender stopped in front of us. “What can I get you?”
Rev angled his face towards them, and I studied his sharp jawline, decorated with unique markings that trailed down his torso.
His button nose turned up ever so slightly, pierced with a tiny purple stud and a silver hoop through his septum. And when he asked for a martini, my gaze dropped to Rev’s pillowy lips. The bottom one was a touch fuller than the top, giving him a natural pout that wasn’t fair.
In my lap, my hand curled into a fist, grounding myself before I did something stupid, like lean in and catch his lower lip between my teeth. Or deck the bartender for looking at him.
Calm down, Kai. It’s his job, for fuck’s sake.
I’d only had two drinks, so I couldn’t even blame my rampant thoughts on the booze.
“Kai?” I blinked, realising I’d zoned out while staring at Rev. He frowned back at me. “Do I have something on my face?”
He lifted a hand to his cheek, about to rub his skin, but I caught it and guided it to my knee. His palm rested there, warm and hesitant. I placed my hand over Rev’s, his delicate fingers soft against mine. He didn’t resist, and when I gave his hand a gentle squeeze, he intertwined our fingers.
I didn’t look down. I didn’t know what the fuck I was doing, or why I wanted to hold his hand. If I didn’t look, I wouldn’t have to acknowledge what was happening.
