Identical to the one he has safely stored at home, because the piece is too much, too formal, to wear to Bluestone.
A shadow strokes across Dray’s jaw before he traces Eric’s stare to me.
I shrink in my seat.
Landon, in a stuttered scoff, asks, “No offense, but how the fuck did you get your hands on that? Someone gambled that away?”
Shut up, Landon, shut up, shut up.
Eric falters, panic alighting in his honey eyes.
He glances around the hard faces aimed at him, then looks down at the elegant watch clasped and poorly fitted on his wrist.
“A New Year gift.” His pitch hikes as he lifts his sleeve just a tug and shows off the timepiece, completely fucking ignoring my warning. “I’ve been saving it, actually—for when the stars are brightest.”
My lashes shut as those words stir nausea through me, but not before I saw the flash in Dray’s eyes—the only stare locked onto me.
Slowly, my lashes lift.
And I lift a dark stare to Eric.
He forces a tight smile before he backsteps. “See you at dinner?”
The question is directed at Asta.
She only stares at him like a ghost caught between realms, and Eric now finally realises he’s in the middle of what’s about to be a catastrophic explosion.
His throat bobs before he leaves—just stalks off in the direction of the buffet.
My heart thumps particularly hard, a pulsation that swells in my head, my throat, my gut—and I swear, they hear it, each one of them, because at that moment, the rest of the stares are slowly turning back to me.
Oliver speaks, slow and glacier, “I happen to have that exact one in gold.”
Elbows planted on the table, I bury my face in my hands.
My groan is muffled.
Oliver’s gravelly voice follows me into the dark, “You bought that for him, didn’t you?”
Could this be anymore colossally fucked up?
Yes.
Yes, of course it could.
My luck brings a clatter to the table. There’s a thud, like the drop of glass on wood—then, after a pause, glass shatters into glitter.
As always when a glass breaks in the hall, gazes are lured in from all angles.
But there’s no humour in this one.
No one calls out, no jeers or mockery.
The glass is shattered all over the floorboards—and as I look up, Asta’s sharp face is aimed at me with a flush of fury.
Landon has her by the midsection.
Arm looped tight around her wriggling body, he holds her back, like she’s tried to lunge at me.
