I peered into the mirror one last time to make sure that the remaining bit of redness from my carpet burns were covered by foundation and slicked on some lipstick—“Scarlet Witch”—before fastening a delicate gold chain around my neck.
I was ready.
Heading downstairs, I skated around the red velvet rope that marked the upstairs as out of bounds and followed the sounds of talking. I was about to enter the room where the noise was coming from when my arm was yanked back. Wobbling on my heels, I lost my balance and flailed, trying to stop myself from falling.
I was caught by a solid body at my back and large hands at my waist, steadying me.
“Wait.” The low hiss was right by my ear, his face so close that his stubble was brushing the side of my jaw.
Caiden. I shivered at his proximity, and then the pain radiating up my arm registered. And just like that, my lust or whatever hormonal reaction I was having to him disappeared as I stiffened in his hold.
“How many fucking times have I told you not to manhandle me?”
He kept hold of me. “Actually, it wasn’t me that grabbed you. That was Zayde. I stopped you from falling.” His lips were so close to my ear. Too close.
I didn’t want to move.
Despite knowing it was a bad idea, I relaxed against him, feeling the heat of his body warming my back.
“What exactly do you think you’re doing, Snowflake?” His words were hissed in my ear, vaguely threatening, but his tone was more curious than annoyed.
Interesting.
“Leaning on you,” I answered nonchalantly.
I had no idea what I was doing.
He stepped back, dropping his hands from my waist, moving one to my back to make sure I was balanced before he let go.
I whirled around. “Cai—” My words died away as I took in the four of them. Weston, Zayde, Cassius, and Caiden. All dressed in formal suits.
So. Fucking. Hot.
Cassius and Weston were smiling at me, as usual, Zayde gave me a blank look, and Caiden stared at me, his stormy eyes darkening as his gaze raked over my body.
“Fucking hot,” Cassius stated, licking his lips.
“I was just thinking the same about you. All of you.” It was easy to see why they were so popular on campus.
I shifted on my heels, suddenly uncomfortable with being the object of their focus. “Why’d you stop me, anyway?” My question was to Zayde, but he ignored me. It was Weston who spoke up.
“We need to display a united front. No sign of tension, act politely, mingle, basically act like we’re all friends. Oh, and like we just love being around our parents.”
A united front. I guess they’d been given the same talk I had. Of course—that was why Caiden had stopped me from falling. Keeping up appearances. No doubt he would have let me drop to the floor in a heap if we hadn’t been in our parents’ house.
“Why do you want to do this? You’re all adults. Why do you even have to be here, if you don’t want to?”
“Trust fund. We don’t get it until we’ve graduated from university, so until that point, Dad likes to remind us that he has control over what we do. If we don’t play nice when he wants us to, we don’t get the money.” Weston shrugged, and Caiden glared at him. Guess he didn’t want Weston sharing that piece of information with me.
“Right.” I rolled my eyes. Money was more trouble than it was worth. I mean, yeah, it was great to have it, but I’d rather not be indebted to anyone. Then again, I’d never been rich. Maybe my view would be different if I was.
Of course, I didn’t have to worry about the trust fund issue since I doubted my mother would have made provisions for me. I had no idea what her financial situation was, either. All I knew was that she was on the board of Alstone Holdings, which probably meant she had money of her own, but it could well be tied to Arlo Cavendish. If he had any sense, he’d have made her sign an ironclad prenup before they got married.
I sidled up to Weston, tucking my arm through his. “Come on, bro. Let’s do this.”
“The feelings I’m having about you right now in that dress aren’t very brotherly,” he told me, pulling me closer to him.
“That’s okay, we’re not properly related. I’m fine with you ogling me.”
“I don’t think Cade shares your opinion.”
Swinging my gaze from Weston’s to Caiden’s, I noticed the tense set of his jaw and the way his fists clenched at his sides.
“I’ll escort her in,” he bit out. “I’m the older brother. It should be me.”
“You’re pulling the older brother card. Really?” Weston snorted in amusement.
“Woah, boys. No need to argue. I don’t need escorting anywhere.” I stepped back from Weston, towards Cassius.
“You can walk with me, babe.” He bent down to murmur in my ear, and I smiled up at him.
“Why can’t Caiden be as nice to me as you?” I didn’t mean to speak as loudly as I did.
I noticed Cassius smirking over the top of my head. “His social skills aren’t as good as mine. It’s sad, really.” He raised his voice. “You want some pointers on how to treat a woman, Cade?”
“Fuck. Off.”
I turned to look at Caiden, his eyes flashing with anger, an irritated frown on his face. Despite his general behaviour towards me, I didn’t actually want to cause a scene at this party. I needed things to go smoothly, so I guessed it was up to me to pacify him.
I sighed heavily, addressing Cassius. “I’m going in with Caiden. If he kills me, you can have my car.”
“Thanks, but no thanks. I’ll have your laptop, though.”
“Deal.”
Before Caiden could say anything else, I was by his side. “Shall we?” I held out my hand, silently pleading with him to accept. He stared at me, his mouth set in a flat line.
“What’s that tattoo?” he said suddenly, pointing at my upturned arm.
“You’ve seen it before, haven’t you?” I raised a brow at him.
“I haven’t really taken any notice of it before,” he admitted, finally taking my outstretched hand and pulling me closer.
Why did my hand feel so good in his?
“Quadrantids,” I managed to stutter.
“The fuck are you saying? Is that English?”
“The tattoo.”
He dropped my hand and lifted my arm to inspect it, trailing a finger across the meteor shooting across the sky—well, across my arm. What was he doing? I shivered, again. For fuck’s sake.
Swallowing hard, I tried to concentrate on what he was asking me.
The meteor itself was tattooed near my wrist, and the trail extended almost all the way to my inner elbow, sparks flying all along it. I had a few tattoos, but this was by far my favourite. It held a special meaning to me.
“It’s a shooting star?”
“Yeah. Well, a meteor, really. The Quadrantids are a meteor shower that happens every January. My dad is—was an astrophysics professor, and he liked to tell me this story of how I was born. And it reminds me of him, so I had the tattoo.”
“What’s the story?” I looked up to see Weston, his head cocked at me, and Cassius and Zayde eyeing my tattoo. They were standing much closer than they had been a moment ago. My attention had been so focused on Caiden’s hand on my arm, I’d completely tuned out my surroundings.