Page 99 of Your Coffin or Mine
“What is?” I say, attempting to turn around in our little corner of the ballroom, but my cloak catches on something. “Owww!” I spin around and bump into him. “George, you’re on my cloak.”
He moves, apologizing, and I pull it behind me and out of the way. My phone vibrates and I look down, my eyes going wide.
“Oh my god!” I squeal, suddenly uncaring if people stare or not. “He tagged me as coordinator for the event. Why would he do that?” I whisper-shout, completely astonished.
The picture is one of Vlad and Doyle in the foyer of the castle. Vlad is staring into the camera, unsmiling, while Doyle grins, breaking hearts across the internet in one fell swoop.
George sucks in a hard breath, just as the room goes quiet.
“He’s here,” George announces, followed by the distinct tinging of cutlery against a champagne glass and the hush of the crowd.
“If my father could be here today, he would be proud of what the Tepesh family has accomplished.” Vlad’s strong, projected voice sends shivers up my spine. “Not only that, he would be proud that I have found my happiness.”
Before I can turn to watch Vlad, George moves to grab at my cloak, trying to take it off.
I tug it away, smacking at his hands. “Stop it,” I hiss. The vision of my boobs spilling out of this thing on a dance floor full of people goes through my mind.
He pulls himself to his full height of maybe five foot seven, and plants his hands on his hips. “Bitch, that is the prettiest dress I have ever seen. If you don’t show it off, I will cry.”
I step around him. “I’ll go find you some Kleenex,” I shoot back.
“Fine. Whatever, you hussy, but if you mess up that dress you will never remove my foot from your ass,” he threatens from behind me.
I feel my cloak being moved as he fixes the back. “Thank you.”
“He would often say that love can accomplish anything,” Vlad continues, “and so I would like to present a toast to Doyle, my one friend even in the bleakest of days. You are the best man I know, and without you, I guarantee none of us would be here today. So, from the bottom of my heart, I thank you—even if you’re a thorn in my backside ninety percent of the time.”
Clapping starts up, and I hold my phone above the crowd, snapping pictures and catching a smile here and a man chuckling there.These are going to be so great.I’ll put them all together later and make a reel. I wish I could have teased a bit more about what I’m doing to gain some traction with followers, but they will just have to be pleasantly surprised.
The clapping gets louder when Doyle shakes his head, his dark-brown hair slicked back again like his Gomez gig the first time we met.
“Aubrey?” Vlad’s voice rings out over the crowd.
Oh no.
My face goes hot as the crowd parts, and he strides through it toward me. Wearing a cloak the same cut as mine, his black and open, it showcases what looks like a vintage black suitunderneath. The tie at his throat is the same red as my dress, and the wicked grin on his face is definitely creating feelings.
He looks like something out of a gothic romance.
“Oh my god, look at you,” I breathe, and it’s all I can do not to start fanning myself.
“You look stunning.” The words rumble from his lips.
“I cannot believe you.”
“What?” he asks in surprise.
I wave at my body. “This outfit.”
He tilts his head with a wry smile. “You look phenomenal. What do you mean?”
“I mean the dress, not the cloak.” I can’t help but roll my eyes. “The cloak is beautiful.”
“The dress is delicious,” he practically purrs out. “Just as you are.”
His eyes drop to my cloak-covered chest and his gaze heats. I hesitate, looking around, then look down at myself, suddenly wondering if he has some kind of special eyesight that can see through clothing. I check all sides. Definitely no side boob showing and nothing is falling out.Maybe that’s a super vampire power?
“You can see my dress through the cloak?” I whisper.
