The song wound down. Nate loosened his hold and stepped back, still smiling. “Thanks,” he said. “You want another drink?”
“I’m good,” I said, because he deserved better than being my human control group. “Maybe later. I promised Kit I’d come rescue her if she flirted with the bartender again.”
He laughed. “Fair enough. See you around?”
“Yeah,” I said. “See you.”
I slipped away before guilt could turn into pity on either of our faces, weaving back through the bodies to the safety of my sister.
At the table, Kit gave me a hopeful look. “Well?”
“He was nice,” I said, grabbing my drink.
“Nice,” she repeated with a groan. “Tragic.”
My phone buzzed on the sticky tabletop.
Wes
How’s the dazzling going? Anyone blinded yet or just mildly inconvenienced?
Heat pricked at the back of my neck. My lips tugged up before I could stop them, the smile sneaking out so fast I had to duck my head and pretend to study my cider.
“Who’s that?” Kit singsonged.
“No one,” I lied, thumbs already moving.
Me
One guy survived the experience and can still see colors. I think I’m losing my touch.
Three dots appeared almost immediately.
Wes
Doubtful. Star Harbor just isn’t ready for your full wattage yet.
My chest did a stupid little squeeze. I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from grinning like a teenager and locked my phone, tucking it under my palm before Kit could snatch it.
Out on the floor, couples swayed closer as the band slid into something slow and dirty. Hands skimmed hips. Heads tucked into necks. I watched a woman laugh as her partner spun her, trusting him completely to catch her.
My mind drifted back to Wes as he swayed with me in the dark like he wasn’t sure he was allowed to enjoy it. To the tiny, careful way his hand had flexed at my waist when he’d forgotten to be afraid.
Maybe Hayes wasn’t the only Darling who was cursed. Maybe I was cursed too—cursed to want the one man in this town I absolutely, unequivocally should not.
A man who had my brother’s trust.
A man who was still piecing himself back together.
A man whose kiss had somehow ruined every other touch.
Then it dawned on me, Wes’s body worked just fine. It was his confidence that had taken the hit.
A reckless little thought whispered.
If I could remind him he still knew how to move to music...what else could I remind him of?
