30. Mira

30

MIRA

I spin in front of the mirror, taking myself in from every angle. "I've never worn anything like this before."

"Damn right you haven't," Taylor agrees. "If you had, I'd be so hot for you. Who needs men when my best friend has an ass like that?"

I wrinkle my nose at where my phone is propped up on the dresser. "I called to ask for your opinion, not to be objectified."

"Right. Sorry. Objectifying you is Zane's job. And let me tell you, you're making his job eaaasy tonight." She whistles long and low.

The last twenty-four hours have been a whirlwind. When Zane told me to clear my schedule, I assumed he needed me to watch Aiden while he went somewhere.

Instead, I came home to a rack of dresses to try on and a woman with a tape measure trying to get my bust size.

I've never been to a gala or a ball or whatever this party tonight is, but it's apparently fancy enough that I couldn't be trusted with my own hair or makeup.

Zane footed the bill for Taylor and me to get glammed up and, by the time I got back a couple of hours ago, a blue dress almost the exact same shade as the suit Hanna dropped off the other day was hanging in my room.

"It hardly covers my chest." I mumble, spinning around to see where the back barely makes it to the middle of my spine. "How does it stay up?"

It's not by the sleeves, that's for sure. Those are dangling uselessly around my biceps.

"The fact it's tailored perfectly to your chest helps," Taylor points out. "In more ways than one. It won't budge and your boobs look amazing."

I jab a warning finger at her. "I'm serious. Stop that or I'm going to tell Daniel you're in love with me."

"Pssh, he already knows, babe."

Despite myself, I smile. "Are you going to show me your dress?"

"No. I want to make a grand, Cinderella-like entrance. You can gawk like the rest of them when I arrive."

I laugh, but Taylor's not kidding. She expects jaws to hit the floor. And they probably will. She belongs in this world—the one with ball gowns and diamond necklaces.

I'm the outsider.

"Well, I'll see you there, then." I hear Zane walk down the hallway behind me, and my heart jolts. "Don't get so distracted with Daniel that you forget about me. I don't know anyone else there."

"Okay, but please feel free to let Zane distract you with his body until you forget all about me ." She winks and the call ends.

I stare at my reflection for a few more minutes, bending and twisting and twerking. Basically doing everything I might be doing in the next few hours that could send my dress cascading to the floor and leave me in nothing but a pair of lace panties— again . But Taylor was right; the dress doesn't budge.

When I'm finally confident my girls will stay covered tonight, there's a knock at my door.

I open it, and… well, I might have spoken too soon for the girls.

Zane is standing in front of me in his suit, and I can see why Hanna was groping it like a psycho the other day. The material has to be magic. Some kind of Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants type thing, except for men's suits.

Because Zane looks unreal.

His hair is sculpted back out of his face, but a few little waves have escaped to fall over his forehead. I follow them down to his bright blue eyes and find that they are pinned on me.

"My God," he breathes.

Heat flushes through me. I'm sure he can see me blushing, but there's nothing I can do about that. "Ditto. You look nice."

"You look—" He bites his lip and takes a step back the way someone would admire a fine piece of art in a gallery. "I didn't need to bother getting dressed up. No one in that building tonight is going to be looking at me. Not when you're standing next to me."

"Because I look so ridiculous?" I tease, trying to steer us away from where we ended up the other night.

Then again, I don't think I actually made it out of that hallway. Somewhere in the back of my head, Zane still has me pinned to that wall.

I'm at his mercy in a way I promised myself I'd never be again. But this feels… different.

"Because you are the single most gorgeous creature I've ever seen," he rasps, a note of regret in his voice like he wishes he didn't have to say it.

I run a nervous hand over my collarbone and Zane follows the movement. He trails after my fingers, tracing me from shoulder to hip to the thigh-high slit in the skirt of my dress.

I've spent too many years lying low to be used to this kind of focused attention. I should hate it—but the thump of my heart proves that I like it a little too much.

I clear my throat. "We should probably?—"

"Yeah." He blinks and offers his elbow. "We should go."

I loop my hand around his arm and let him lead me out. When we walk through the front doors of the lobby and onto the street, Zane's Ferrari is waiting at the curb.

"No limo?" I ask. "I thought I'd finally get to live my high school prom dreams."

"Prom isn't worth dreaming about. Neither is a limo." He takes my hand, helping me into the caramel leather passenger seat.

My fingers burn from that measly little bit of contact.

God help me if we have to dance.

The car purrs when he starts it. When he pulls away from the curb, I barely even feel the acceleration. He drives the car the way he does everything else in life: effortlessly.

"Are you trying to make up for almost getting in an accident the other day?" I ask after a few minutes of watching his fingers coax the car into smooth turns.

His jaw flexes. "I didn't ‘almost get in an accident.' The brakes were touchy."

"Well, these brakes aren't touchy. This is the smoothest car ride I've ever had."

"That's because I'm driving."

"Someone is cocky."

"You would be, too, if you won a car like this fair and square."

I frown. "You won it? Like, in a raffle?"

He looks deeply offended. "No, it was a race."

I blink at him. "You won a Ferrari in a race? Who would be stupid enough to put this car on the line?"

"Jace," he laughs. "I won it from him my second year on the team. He'd been playing long enough that his five-car garage was overflowing. Also, I'll be sure to tell him you called him ‘stupid' when I introduce you tonight."

It hits me all at once: I'm going to meet Zane's friends. I've met Daniel and I saw everyone on the ice at the game, but this is different. Zane is taking me into his world. In a lot of ways, this is the first time I'll need to actually pretend to be his girlfriend.

The thought makes my stomach swirl.

"Giving up a car this expensive is crazy. I could sell this thing and start a whole new life."

Ten new lives. I could afford to run and never look back.

Zane pulls slowly into the valet line and puts the car in park. "Do I need to worry about you lifting my car, Mira?"

I run my fingers over the buttery leather. "Maybe. I think I just had an awakening. Engines rev my engine, as it turns out. Who knew?"

His eyes shine like I just said the magic words. "What else does the trick?" he murmurs, though it doesn't seem like he's actually looking for an answer.

Probably because he already knows it.

Then the valet appears outside of his driver's side door, and I remember where we are. Who we are. The spell breaks.

Zane steps out, hands the man his keys, and then walks around the back of the car to open my door for me.

I almost trip on the train of my dress climbing out, but Zane steadies me. His fingers wrap around my hip, and I forget all over again that this is fake. Because when he looks at me the way he is now, it's easy to forget it's not real.

"Thanks," I mumble.

His hand tightens, sliding over my waist. "Don't worry. I've got you."

Then the cameras start flashing.

The stairs up to the front doors of the venue are lined on both sides with journalists behind velvet ropes, hordes of them, like jackals at the watering hole, gnashing and calling out names and those bulbs going pop-pop-pop.

My heart lodges in my throat. "Oh my."

"It's a zoo out here." Zane takes my hand, wrapping it protectively around his elbow. "Smile for the hyenas."

I manage a shy smile that I hope doesn't reveal exactly how close I am to throwing up on my shoes. I keep my eyes locked on the stairs in front of me so I don't fall again.

But a little voice in my head keeps whispering a very inconvenient truth.

I started falling a long time ago.