Page 172 of Midnights
I know he doesn’t buy it, but his eyes stay locked on mine, searching for anything that proves I’m lying. I fight the urge to shift my weight, knowing that I’m a terrible liar. After a second, he lets go of my shoulders. But the look he gives me says this conversation isn’t over. Not by a long shot.
“Dance with me.”
It’s not a question.
I don't even get the chance to protest before he grabs my hand and pulls me into the dance. His movements are effortless, twirling me with a confidence that forces a real laugh out of me. “If you insist,” I tease, letting him lead.
“If I find out somethingactuallyhappened, and you didn’t tell me, Raven…” His voice is quiet and rough as he tightens his grip. “I’m gonna bepissed.”
I arch a brow, my own smile turning sly as I meet his intensity head-on. “Oh, don’t worry, Cameron. If I ever need a knight in shining armor, you’ll be the first to know.”
His hold tenses for a fraction of a second before he smirks. “You better. Because trust me, I don’t play games when it comes to shit like this.”
Something about the way he says it sends a slow ripple of unease down my spine. But I refuse to let him see it.
Instead, I hold his gaze. “Noted. Now stop scowling, and dance with me.”
He exhales a laugh, finally spinning me back out, but just before the song ends, his voice drops again, low enough for only me to hear.
“And don’t worry. I won’t tell Kane that you’d callmefirst.”
I smile, shaking my head. “Oh, please. I’d callyoufirst just to give Kane a reason to be pissed.”
Cam’s deep, amused laugh is the last thing I hear before the music tapers off, signaling the end of the song.
The night is winding down, but my thoughts are a tangled mess. One minute, I’m having the time of my life. The next I’m lying about getting elbowed in the face by some creep in the garden.
Why did we do that again? It doesn't matter now, it's too late to back out.
The thought gnaws at me as Cam and I weave our way toward the back of the room.
The ballroom hums with life, a kaleidoscope of swirling gowns and polished suits under the glow of the chandeliers. My eyes sweep across the crowd, until they land on Kane, who’s currently dancing with Rachel.
My stomach tightens, but I shove the feeling down as I watch Rachel grin up at him, lost in the moment. But the second Kane spots me, his expressionchanges. His posture locks and his entire focus narrows in on me. They’re both moving now, making their way toward us, but Kane gets to me first.
His presence alone is enough to suck the air from the room.
“What happened?”
The words aren’t a question, they’re a command. His eyes flick to my lip, narrowing slightly before snapping back to mine. The weight of his concern is suffocating, but I refuse to let it shake me.
I force a laugh, adjusting my dress, keeping my tone light. “Nothing happened,” I say breezily. “I tripped earlier, that’s all. These boots might not have been made for walking after all.”
His jaw tightens, and his gaze burns through my flimsy excuse like it physically offends him.
“Tripped?” He repeats, the word dripping with dangerous skepticism. His voice stays calm, but there’s a lethal edge beneath it.
Before he can press further, Cam lets out a snort, giving me a playful nudge.
“Great legs, but I’m not sure those boots are worthrisking your lifefor.” He winks, smiling at Rachel. “Sorry, not sorry… still funny.”
I force a chuckle, ignoring the way my heart is still racing, and chance a quick glance at Kane. His eyes haven’t left mine, like he’s peeling back every excuse I’ve thrown up, searching for the truth buried beneath it. Fuck.
Rachel steps up beside me, giving me a once-over before shaking her head with a grin. “Of course youwould fall,” she laughs. “You’ve got the balance of a newborn giraffe in those boots.”
I let out a dramatic sigh, relieved they seem to be buying it. My fingers toy with the hem of my dress, a nervous habit I force myself to suppress. The last thing I need is this suffocating scrutiny, and risk unraveling everything I’ve carefully tied together. Whatever happened in that garden, whatever he meant by 'None of this belongs to you,'it’s over. And I have no intention of dragging it into the rest of the night, or letting it bleed into something that was supposed to be magical.
At this point I’m banking on that creep being long gone. I’ve already flat-out lied, and I’m not about to unravel it now.
