“Why are you on theIgnisar?” I asked, cutting to the chase perhaps a bit too sharply. But I had to know. “We don’t typically have politicos, let alone their families, traveling with us. At least not publicly. And Portis is far away for a simple?—”
“That is a question for another time.” Clearing her throat, Sonia returned her attention to her drink, and I knew the conversation was over.
“How late does the Fire Ball usually last?” Sai asked, breaking the meter-thick tension that had slammed down around the table.
Giving him a smile, I said, “Believe it or not, Sai, this room will still be buzzing at sunrise sim.”
His mouth popped open. “The entire night?”
“Not for you, young man,” Lena said, ruffling his hair.
Sai frowned, clearly not happy with his curfew, then he sipped his drink from a swirling straw.
Clasping her hands on the table with an abruptthump—a move that no doubt served her well in senate meetings—Sonia said, “Thank you for stopping by, Sunny. But I’m sure you have work to get back to.”
Not missing the dismissal, and,yes, having plenty of work to get back to, I stood from my chair, smoothed my dress back into place, and said, “Of course. I hope you’ll all have a wonderful evening.”
“You as well,” Sonia said, not bothering to look up at me.
It chafed a little. I understood the senator’s concerns about the Kravaxians. I shared them. But it wasn’t like the FFK visitation had been my idea. I was only doing my job.
I was about to spin on my heel and walk away when Lena snatched my hand, pulled me close, and said, “Don’t mind Sonia. She gets like this when she’s worried.”
I tried to give Lena a polite nod, but when she added, “You look gorgeous tonight. That is such a perfect little black dress. Where’d you get it?” the floor vanished beneath my feet.
I hadn’t realized, but,stars save me, I was wearing the dress.Thedress. The same dress I’d worn on the CAK the night I’d first met him. The same dress he’d peeled off my body inch by inch, covering each bit of my exposed skin with his hands and lips and tongue. The same dress I’d worn when I’d been Phoebe and he’d been Joshua.
“Sunny?” Concern laced Lena’s expression. “You’ve gone white as a sheet. Are you all right?”
What was wrong with me? How could I have worn this dress? How could I not have noticed? Had he noticed? No. No, he wouldn’t have. He was a man, after all. They rarely remembered things like what dress a woman wore. It was fine. Everything was fine.
“I’m fine,” I said with a brittle, forced laugh.I just have togo change before my life implodes.“Only a few bites of the warple cake,” I warned, backing away from the table. “Too much, and the effects can be very…” Turning around carefully, I scanned the ballroom, trying to spot him without being obvious, without him noticing me, without my thoughtless outfit choice being too “…consequential.”
It was too late. He saw me. He wasn’t more than twenty feet away, sitting at a table of Argosians, staring at me. And judging by his expression, his wide eyes, his parted lips, the hand rising to his chest, he knew. He remembered.
My heart tripped over itself. Because the way he looked at me, the sheer intensity? Did he think the dress meant something? DidIthink the dress meant something? Was it all random bad luck? Or was it some unconscious corner of my mind insinuating itself into my personal life against my will?
Shit. Shit, shit, shit.
He stood from his table. I stepped away from mine. Then he tilted his head toward a hallway leading from the main ballroom and started walking.
I didn’t know what to do. I was paralyzed, my breath burning my throat, fire searing my chest, scorching my lungs. At least my panic was staying true to theme.
But once he disappeared from sight, a funny thing happened. My feet moved, carrying me toward him, to where he waited for me at the end of the dark, quiet hallway, leaning back against the wall, his face angled up to the ceiling.
“Freddie,” I said, surprised my voice still worked. “I can explain.”
Wheeling around, he strode toward me in bold, breath-stealing strides and didn’t stop until he was so close I felt him everywhere. “You’re wearing the dress.Herdress,” hesaid in a harsh, almost pained whisper. “Sunny, why are you wearing her dress? Are you trying to torture me?” His mouth hovered inches from mine, his hand landing on the wall beside my head. “Because it’s working.” He licked his lips. “I am tortured.”
His other hand hit the wall beside my hip, his hair brushing my forehead, and my heart thundered so hard and fast against my ribs I was sure he saw it through my dress, maybe even heard it. Maybe the entire room heard it. I was panting, lightheaded, confused, and I didn’t care. I didn’t care about the ball or the dress or the voice in my head screaming at me to push him away. I didn’t care.
He invaded my senses, enveloping me until he was all I could see or feel or breathe. My knees buckled, and I couldn’t fight it anymore. I had never wanted another being the way I wanted him. Like I really was on fire, and he was the only drop of water in the entire star system. I wanted to touch him, hold him, kiss him so desperately it was an ache in my bones. I wanted his lips on mine, his hands on my body. I wanted to wake up with the sweet taste of him still on my tongue, the smell of him on my skin, the memory of him inside me. But as his head angled, his lips lining up with mine, so close I felt their softness in some magic stronger than anything the wizards could produce, reality crashed into me.
I shouldn’t do this. Icouldn’tdo this. The job was one thing, but there was so much more. He was not some one-night stand anymore. He was in my life, all day, every day. If I gave in to this wanting, he would eventually want things from me in return. Things I couldn’t give him. He wasn’t casual. He wasn’t no-strings-attached material. He was the kind of man who’d want to be as close as possible, and he’d end up resenting me because I’d only ever pushhim away. He deserved better. He deserved better than a broken woman who only knew how to run the second shit got real. Because that’s what I did. I ran. I hid. It was what I was good at. It was what I needed to do now. Maybe I was being a coward, but I’d had enough pain in my life already.
With Herculean effort, I pulled my hands—which had somehow found their way to his hips—back to my sides. Then I pressed my palm against his chest and pushed.
“Sunny?” He looked down at my hand. “Don’t?—”
