Heat rushes through me so fast I almost lose my mind.
So he feels it too, the same hunger. This impossible excitement. This strange overwhelming joy from simply touching each other.
My eyes drop to his lips again, so he knows exactly what I’m about to do.
He doesn’t pull away. If anything, he seems to be waiting for it.
Now?
Is this really happening?
I lean closer carefully at first, testing the distance between us, lowering myself another inch while watching for any sign he wants me to stop.
He still doesn’t move away.
Then… fuck.
Some footsteps suddenly echo behind us. The glass doors slide open and Blue immediately steps back in one smooth motion, three feet away, and paradise disappears so fast it hurts.
"Goddammit," I breathe out shakily.
The loss of him in my arms shakes me so hard I nearly stumble, and I actually have to lift a hand to my forehead and rub it, trying for a second to get my head back together.
"Ah, Mr. Lowen, so this is where you’ve been hiding."
The mayor’s irritating face appears through the gap in the door.
"I wouldn’t call it hiding," Blue says. "I wanted to watch the fireworks. The show is genuinely beautiful."
His answer is surprisingly calm. Personally, there’s no way I could sound that composed right now when my nerves are completely shot and I’m still hard from what just happened.
"Yes, of course, absolutely," the mayor says with an overly polished smile. "But there are several people hoping to speak with you. We’ve all been eagerly waiting for your arrival tonight, and I would be honored if you joined us back at the table."
Blue lets out a faint sigh, gives a small nod, and walks toward the mayor without looking at me even once, while I mutter a few Russian curses under my breath and subtly adjust the crotch of my pants.
God-fucking-damn-it.
A moment like that is probably never happening again. That weird electricity between us, that insane reaction… and now it’s all just gone because Fate apparently enjoys screwing with me personally.
Annoyed at both myself and the mayor, I follow after them.
Blue takes a seat at one of the larger tables surrounded by a group of important-looking people, and conversations immediately start flowing around him again. I don’t participate, obviously. I go back to standing near the wall a short distance away, watching his small elegant figure while my thoughts spiral harder every minute.
I’m done for. Completely, permanently fucked up when it comes to him.
And now I can’t stop wondering if that tiny but sweet openness I saw in Blue while I was holding him only happened because of the strange thing that passed between us during our touch? Maybe now that we’re apart, everything’s already resetting back to cold and distant normal?
He doesn’t look at me once. He doesn’t even turn his head in my direction at all, completely occupied with conversations while I stand there chewing at the inside of my lip so hard it hurts, and I eventually start biting my fingers instead. My nerves are destroying me.
Time keeps dragging on like that until eventually, around an hour later, some of the guests finally begin leaving. The gala is still going, people are still dancing, but I notice Blue standing up too.
For the first time in an hour, he finally glances in my direction. Just one small nod, barely noticeable, but enough to tell me we’re done here.
Keeping my expression professional, I quietly head toward the entrance with him.
Two minutes later we’re back inside the limousine, sitting in complete silence.
I’m too rattled and worked up to say anything, to ask about that situation, afraid that anything I do now, beyond theprotective magic of that balcony moment, will bring down his wrath on me.
