Evermore (The Immortals #1)(22)

"It's a good party. I'm glad I crashed." He sits down beside me, as I stare straight ahead, aware that he's teasing but too nervous to respond. "You make a good Marie," he says, his finger tapping the long black feather I stuck in my wig at the very last moment.

I press my lips together, feeling anxious, nervous, tempted to flee. Then I take a deep breath and relax and go with it. Allow myself to live a little—if just for one night. 'And you make a good Count Fersen," I finally say.

"Please, call me Axel." He laughs.

"Did they charge extra for the moth hole?" I ask, nodding at the frayed spot near his shoulder, though choosing not to mention its musty scent.

He looks at me, his eyes right on mine when he says,

"That's no moth hole. That's the by-product of artillery fire, a real near miss as they say."

"Well, if I remember right, in this particular scene you were pursuing a dark-haired girl." I glance at him, remembering a time when flirting came easy, summoning the girl I used to be.

"There's been a last-minute rewrite." He smiles. "Didn't you get the new script?"

I kick my feet up and smile, thinking how nice it feels to finally let go, to act like a normal girl, with a normal crush, just like anyone else.

"And in this new version it's just us. And you, Marie, get to keep your pretty head." He takes his finger, the very tip of his index finger, and slides it across the width of my neck, leaving a trail of warm wonderful sizzle as he lingers just under my ear. "Why didn't you get in line for a reading?" he whispers, his fingers traveling along my jaw, my cheek, tracing the curve of my ear, as his lips loom so close our breaths meet and mingle.

I shrug and press my lips, wishing he'd just shut up and kiss me already.

"Are you a skeptic?"

"No—I just—l don't know." I mumble, so frustrated I'm tempted to scream.

Why does he insist on talking? Doesn't he realize this may be my last remaining shot at a normal boy-girl experience?

That an opportunity like this may never present itself again?

"How come you're not in line?" I ask, no longer trying to hide my frustration.

"Waste of time." He laughs. "It's not possible to read minds, or tell the future—right?"

I shift my gaze to the pool, blinking at the water globes that have not only turned pink but are forming a heart.

"Have I angered you?" he asks, his fingers cupping my chin, bringing my face back to his.

And that's another thing. Sometimes he uses California surf speak as well as anyone else around here, and other times, he sounds like he just walked straight out of the pages of Wuthering Heights.

"No. You have not angered me," I say, laughing in spite of myself.

"What's so funny?" he asks, his fingers sliding under my bangs, seeking the scar on my forehead and causing me to pull away. "How'd you get that?" he asks, hand back to his side, gazing at me with such warmth and sincerity I almost confide.

But I don't. Because this is the one night of the year when I get to be someone else. When I get to pretend that I'm not responsible for the end of everything I held dear. Tonight I get to flirt, and play, and make reckless decisions I'll probably live to regret. Because tonight I'm no longer Ever, I'm Marie. And if he's any kind of a Count Fersen he'll shut up and kiss me already.

"I don't want to talk about it," I say, blinking at the water globes that are now red and forming into a tulip.

"What do you want to talk about?" he whispers, gazing at me with those eyes, two infinite pools luring me in.

"I don't want to talk," I whisper, holding my breath as his lips meet mine.





Chapter Thirteen



If I thought his voice was amazing with the way it envelopes me in silence, if I thought his touch was incredible with the way it awakens my skin, well, the way he kisses is otherworldly. And even though I'm no expert, having only kissed a few guys before, I'm still willing to bet that a kiss like this, a kiss this complete and transcendent, is a once-in-a-life time thing.

And when he pulls away and gazes into my eyes, I close mine again, grab his lapels, and bring him back to me.

Until Haven says, "Jeez, I've been looking all over for you. I should've known you'd be hiding out here."

I pull away, horrified to be caught in the act, not long after swearing that I don't even like him. "We were just—"

She raises her hand to stop me. "Please. Spare me the details. I just wanted you to know that Evangeline and I are taking off."

"Already?" I ask, wondering how long we've been out here.

"Yeah, my friend Drina stopped by, she's taking us to another party. You guys are welcome to tag along too—though you seem pretty busy." She smirks.

"Drina?" Damen says, standing so fast his whole body blurs.

"You know her?" Haven asks, but Damen's already gone, moving so fast we scramble to follow.

I rush behind Haven, anxious to catch up, desperate to explain, but when we reach the French doors and I grab onto her shoulder I'm filled with such darkness, such overwhelming anger and despair, the words freeze on my tongue.

Then she pulls away and glares over her shoulder, saying, "I told you, you suck at lying," before continuing on.