The Golden Lily (Bloodlines, #2)(64)

"Understood," said Brayden. I couldn't help a smile. Trey had been behaving weirdly around me for the last day or so, and it was nice to see him back to usual form.

Trey gave me another admiring look and then turned back to Brayden. "Hey, check it out.

We both went for togas. Romans rule!" He held up a hand to high-five Brayden but didn't receive it.

"This is a Greek chiton," Brayden explained patiently. He studied Trey's homemade toga, which looked suspiciously like it had been made from a bed sheet. "That's, um, not."

"Greek, Roman." Trey shrugged. "What's the difference?" Brayden opened his mouth, and I knew he was about to explain exactly what the difference was. I quickly rushed in. "Yours looks good on you," I told Trey. "Looks like all those hours of weight training paid off - and I finally get to see the tattoo." Like Brayden's, Trey's tunic was draped over one shoulder, giving a glimpse of his lower back. Trey, like half the school, had a tattoo. But unlike the rest, his hadn't been part of the high-inducing, sinister vampire blood ones that had swept the student body. Trey's was a sun with highly stylized rays. It had been done in normal, dark blue tattoo ink. Eddie had told me about it, but I'd never gotten a look at it before, seeing as Trey didn't really go shirtless around me.

Some of Trey's enthusiasm dimmed, and he turned slightly, keeping his back away from us. "Well, it's pretty softcore compared to yours. Nice to see it out again, by the way." I absentmindedly touched my cheek. I usually covered the golden lily with makeup at school, but I figured here at the dance, I could claim it as part of the costume if any teachers grilled me about the dress code.

Another fast song came on, and Trey brightened again. "Time to show off my moves. You guys coming? Or are you going to supervise the punch all night?"

"I don't really do fast dancing," said Brayden. I nearly sagged in relief.

"Me either," I said.

Trey gave us a rueful smile before heading out. "Color me surprised." Brayden and I spent a good deal of that evening by the punch, actually, continuing our discussion of Halloween's origins and the larger subjugation of pagan holidays. Friends of mine came by occasionally, and Kristin and Julia in particular couldn't stop gushing about my dress. Every so often, I'd also catch a glimpse of Eddie patrolling the crowds, silently and covertly.

Maybe he should've been a ghost. He was almost always within sight of Jill and Micah but focusing on guardian mode seemed to have saved him from pining over her too much.

Both Brayden and I stopped talking when a slow song finally came on. We tensed and then exchanged glances, knowing what was coming. "Okay," he said. "We can only avoid this for so long."

I nearly burst out laughing, and he answered with a small smile. He too was fully aware of our social ineptitude. Somehow, that was comforting. "Now or never," I agreed.

We walked over to the dance floor, joining other couples locked in embraces. Calling what most of them were doing "dancing" was kind of a stretch. Most were just kind of stiffly rocking and rotating around. A few were simply using the opportunity to plaster themselves all over each other and make out. They were quickly pulled apart by chaperones.

I took hold of one of Brayden's hands, and he rested his other on my hip. Aside from the kiss, this was probably the most intimate contact we'd had so far. There were still a few inches between us, but I couldn't help but be overwhelmed at the change to my normal personal space boundaries. I reminded myself that I liked and trusted Brayden and that there was nothing weird about this. As usual, I didn't feel surrounded in hearts or rainbows, but I didn't feel threatened either. Attempting to shift my thoughts from our closeness, I listened to the song and immediately got a feel for its count. About a minute into the song, Brayden realized what I was doing.

"You... you can dance," he said in amazement.

I looked up at him in surprise. "Of course." I was hardly sweeping across the floor in some grand ballroom waltz, but all of my movements were timed to the song's beats. I couldn't really imagine how else you would dance. Brayden, meanwhile, was only one step removed from the rigid movements of most of the other couples. "It's not hard," I added. "It's just kind of mathematical."

Once I put it into those terms, Brayden got on board. He was a quick study and counted off the beats with me. Before long, we looked as though we'd been taking dance lessons forever. Even more surprising, I glanced up at him once, expecting to see him concentrating and counting. Instead, he was regarding me with a soft expression... an affectionate one, even. Flushing, I looked away.

Amazingly, the smell of coffee still clung to him, even though he hadn't worked today.

Maybe no amount of showering could get rid of that scent. Yet, as much as I loved eau de coffee, I found myself thinking of the way Adrian's cologne had smelled at Wolfe's.

When the next fast song came on, Brayden and I took a break, and he excused himself to go talk to the DJ. When he returned, he refused to explain his mysterious errand, but he seemed supremely pleased with himself. Another slow song soon followed, and we headed back to the dance floor.

And for once, conversation between us stilled. It was enough to just dance for a while.

This is what it's like to lead a simple life, I thought. This is what people my age do. No grand machinations or fights between good and -