15. Hellena

15

HELLENA

" T ell?" I mouth silently.

He glances away conveniently, like we didn't make eye contact.

It's definitely Tell. I try not to outright stare at him, but I can't help myself and make the decision in a split second, making a beeline for him across the grass.

"What are you doing here?" I ask softly.

"Excuse me, ma'am? The restrooms are back through the foyer." His voice is completely different. Impressive .

"Tell. Cut it out."

"Truly, madam, I beg your pardon."

" Tyler ," I snap.

He scowls, his casual and bland facial expression dropping between anger and shock. "How did you?—"

"I'd recognize you anywhere." And I realize it's true. I shouldn't have recognized him here.

"Great. You saw right through me again . Just pretend you're asking me for help."

I tilt my head, looking around like I'm asking him a question. His posture stays rigid, eyes scanning the party. "I take it you're here on business ?" He sounds annoyed.

Good. I'm just as curious why he keeps turning up where I am.

"I am. And you?"

With a grimace, he scoops his hand under my arm, gently, like he's always been, but he drags me along around the side of the house. Hedges cover any line of sight, and he leans in, tilting my chin back and waiting for just a second, long enough to get my permission, before stealing a deep, slow kiss.

It's as breathtaking as I remember. And over way too quickly.

"I haven't seen or heard from you in days. I was going out of my mind. Are you running a hustle on one of these rich idiots? Hellena, this isn't a safe place to try and?—"

"Says the guy in disguise playing security guard. Are you here digging up secrets ?" I let all of the sarcasm tint my words.

"I am working. You need to get out of here. Hellena. I'm not sure what you think you're doing?—"

"She's doing what you told her to, actually." Tell's eyes widen at the deep and arrogant voice behind me. "Working for me."

Shit.

Evan is at my back a second later, and I'm engulfed in two scents, that warm, crisp summer rain scent of Tyler on one side, and faint cologne and mountain air on the other. It's like getting chilled and warmed up at the same time.

Fucking goosebumps from head to toe.

Nearly pinned between two gorgeous men has me flustered enough until I realize they're staring each other down in a way that can only mean one thing. They don't just know of each other.

"Soooo. How do you two know each other?" I sidestep so I can see them both.

"We've run into each other here and there." Tell's lip curls up somewhere between a sneer and a smile. "You didn't tell me you took a job working for him ."

We've texted. Mostly idle flirting. Planning to plan a get-together. It's been a crazy couple of weeks. I probably should have told him, but…

"Bullshit," I say instead. "You had to have known what you were getting me into."

"I told you when I gave you that card that I wasn't sure what you'd find. I do, now." He's not lying. I guess Evan's methods work, keeping his associations hidden.

"Well, I found a gig. One I actually kind of… like." For some reason, I feel defensive all of a sudden.

"Sorry, Hella. I didn't mean to?—"

"To insult her?" Evan looks extra bored, which means he's wired. Extra tense. "Tyler, right? Or should I call you Gill? Maybe Stephano? What's this character's name?"

Tell's shoulders tense up visibly, the vein on his head bulging as he clenches his jaw. "Funny coming from the Ken doll parasite . You're just as good-looking as ever, DeSante. Suck anybody dry lately?"

"I'd be happy to offer you that kind of service, for the right price." Evan smirks.

"You'd choke." Tyler's voice drops an octave.

"On all your lies? Certainly." Evan leans into me, gesturing that we should go. "It's a good thing Hellena could see right through you. Hope you enjoy the rest of the party…"

"Yeah. Hellena and I see each other , actually. I hope that's not an issue for you." Not that we actually have, but I don't correct him.

"I suppose it depends on which one of ‘you' she's actually seeing." Evan sniggers.

Electricity pulses between the three of us, charging the air and making my scalp tingle. A thrill zips down my spine that I have no business enjoying. If I don't step in, one of them is going to do something stupid.

"Okay! Let's all just get back to the party that we're here for before someone notices us yelling in the bushes." I can feel the flush of embarrassment tinting my whole body scarlet.

Both of them glance at me for a second, then back to each other. Daggers.

I'll have to get to the bottom of that later.

"She's right," Tell admits first.

Evan does that long, slow breath out of his nose. I hate when he does that.

Neither one wants to leave first, leaving the other alone with me.

"Oh for fuck's sake," I grumble, pushing through them. "You two stay here and get it on already."

It's easier to pretend I don't want to stick around to see how it plays out as I head back inside, looking for the first tray of drinks. Clear my head, get this over with, and prevent creating ammunition for Evan to use against me later.

The cocktail goes down smoothly, warming me.

Courage.

Back outside, I pick my target, making my way across the manicured lawn toward a cluster of older, more distinguished guests. The senator and his daughter are right in the center. I've seen him on the news before, and she is the center of every bit of attention.

Perfect.

Evan magically appears at my side as I arrive, a warning in his expression. Only I would notice it. Outwardly, he's aloof. Cool.

Like he didn't almost get into a tug of war with Tell, using me as the rope between them. Maybe it wasn't as dramatic as I'm thinking. I need to get over myself.

Shoving the thoughts to the side, I reach out my hand as Senator Garcia notices me, his eyes lighting up. "Mister Senator, you have a magnificent home."

"Thank you…"

"Hellena Michaels, Riot Entertainment." I take his hand softly, smiling and bowing my head just a bit.

"Please, call me Ed. You didn't tell me you had this sort of talent at your disposal, Mr. Marques!" He leans down, kissing my knuckles instead, eyeing Evan over my shoulder. Right. I almost forgot his cover name.

Evan nods once, smiling tightly. He nudges me discreetly, trying to get me to excuse myself.

Hmm. No thanks.

He pissed me off thoroughly today. Something coils up inside me, rambunctious and vindictive.

Maybe it was seeing Tell, throwing me completely for a loop.

Maybe it's the booze.

Maybe I'm just in a mood .

"I'm relatively new to the company, but I wanted to personally introduce myself and make sure everything is to your liking."

"Oh, my, yes. Right, sweetheart?"

"Yeah. It's really fun ." The birthday girl looks less than enthused.

"Sabrina, don't be rude." Ed rolls his eyes at me in apology. "Why don't you go watch the opening acts of the show, dear? I think I might head inside for a moment to have a drink. Miss Michaels, would you care to join me?"

"Um. Yes. I'd love to." Just to see Evan squirm.

"Daddy, you always do this…" Sarina whines, turning toward the stage. A few of the performers are already doing flips, pulling themselves up on flowing sheets of blue and purple. She's immediately drawn in, watching the shirtless men flex.

"I'll be back for the grand finale, sweetie!" he calls after her, raising his eyebrows and leading the way, his hand out for me to take. I indulge him, resting mine just on top, and I swear I see Evan flinch.

He trails us inside, trying to appear nonchalant.

Even when Ed hands me a glass and raises a toast, I stare at Evan, laughing at the senator's jokes. He's actually somewhat charming. Easygoing.

"Would you… care to dance?" Ed asks, gesturing to the dance floor. The live band just started playing something upbeat, jazzy.

I pause, honestly debating it. My nerve wavers.

Ed waits, smiling kindly. For a man in his sixties, he's even pretty good-looking. Fit. Light on his feet.

I let my eyes talk for me, checking him out, checking the dancefloor to see how many people are already dancing.

Then I blatantly look right at Evan, waiting for him to call me out. His nostrils flare slightly as he takes a deep breath. His head cocks to the side, like he's willing to allow it. As if I need his permission.

He's going to try to bluff. To see if I'll chicken out.

It's all the courage I need.

"Lead on, Ed!" I let the light buzz I'm riding carry me forward.

The first few seconds are jarring, dizzying, but then I'm swaying, spinning. Senator Garcia is a natural, and well-trained, leading easily and making sure I can keep up. After a few bars, I loosen up, showing off just a bit, letting myself fall into steps I know well.

The song rolls on, and I let go.

I'm actually dancing. In front of people.

And having a good time.

Ed notices that I clearly know what I'm doing and steps up his game, twirling me, dragging me back, laughing as he shows me off for everyone to see. I should probably not be dancing with the party host at his daughter's big day, but he's polite and not sleazy with where he puts his hands.

I barely notice when the song ends and everyone claps, even Evan, who's watching me like a hawk from the sidelines, an odd expression on his face.

The next song starts, a raucous tango, and I laugh out loud at the senator as he wags his eyebrows, silently asking me whether I'll continue.

Fuck it.

I don't even bother to see if he's watching.

I'm having too much fun.

Every beat hits me right in the chest, like the music is pounding on a door I've kept closed and locked for so long. Every step eases it open, freeing a part of me I never thought I could let out.

It's such a simple thing, but one that has bugged me for years.

Spin, stomp, bend, step, and we're rushing across the dancefloor. Ed is a delight, getting just as lost in the complicated movements and steps as we cross, back, cross, and he throws me away into a spin.

I feel the song building, the finale drawing near, and I rush back to him, let him pull me in and sling me back into a bend right as the final notes ring out.

The entire crowd erupts in whistles, applause, and cheering. It's only right then that I notice that we are the only two on the dancefloor. Ed pulls me back up and claps for me, as well, holding his hands out like he's presenting me to the crowd.

Oh, my God.

My cheeks must match my dress.

But even though I do feel a bit embarrassed being the center of attention…

It felt good.

Great, even.

I catch a glimpse of Tell at the doors, shaking his head, smiling in admiration. I grin back, pressing my lips together. I'm glad he saw me.

The rest of the crowd dissipates, thankfully, moving on to dance, to eat, or join the growing audience outside by the aerial stage. I'm sure there will be rumors aplenty about the voluptuous hussy dancing with the birthday girl's father, but I try to shake it off, gulping down half of a mimosa.

That's when I feel him next to me.

Tense.

I turn slowly, waiting for the verbal lashing, the scathing remarks, the glare. An apology forms on my lips until I see his face.

"Evan… what's wrong?"

"Y–you danced. I mean, you can dance."

"Um, yeah."

"No. You… I…" Never once in the weeks I've known him have I ever seen him like this. Completely flabbergasted. There's a light flush to his cheeks. And a fire in his gaze that has me almost taking a step back, my entire body instantly aware of how close he is.

"Should we…?"

"Go. Yes. Now." And his fingers weave into mine, pulling me along toward the exit. His voice is smooth again, deep, calm. It's his body that tells me something completely different.

He's wound like a spring while we wait for the car and on the drive home. It coils tighter as he floors the gas, taking turns at racing speeds. It's enough to keep me quiet, pressed back into my seat and wondering what the hell is going on!

I follow him straight through the office, down the hall, and into the dance hall, not bothering to ask where we're going. The alcohol is still keeping me floating, just enough to go along with whatever he's got planned.

Evan circles the pedestal in the middle of the room, pacing like an animal.

"What's gotten into you?" I almost laugh, partly to defuse the nervous feeling growing in my chest.

He stops, stock still, staring at me.

It makes my stomach do a flip, desire instantly flaring to life inside me.

"I need to see more."

"More of what?"

He closes the distance between us too fast.

"You. Dancing. Now ."