Page 12 of Blinding Lights
“I’m coming.” She abandons the guy she’s dancing with, no apology or explanation, and links her arm through mine, pressing a kiss to my cheek. “Are you having fun?”
“I am, but—”
“Uh-oh. You’re overthinking things, aren’t you?”
“Yep.”
“You definitely need another drink. What’ll it be?”
“Vodka cranberry?”
“Good choice.” She spins me toward the private bar Hunter arranged so that we’d never have to wait for a drink, but pauses when the front door comes into view. “He actually came.”
I follow her gaze to find Beckett striding confidently through the opulent entry, his god-like body wrapped in a perfectly tailored suit, complete with a black waistcoat. He has the jacket off and draped over his elbow, giving us a hint of his beautiful forearms under the rolled-up sleeves of his crisp white shirt.
All that, paired with the way a strand of his wispy hair falls into his piercing green eyes, and he’s positively delicious. If it wasn’t a costume party, he’d fit right in at this club with the rich, dark furnishings and alluring atmosphere. And it doesn’t take a survey of the room to know he’s got his pick of anyone he wants tonight. Only it is a costume party and he’s missing a costume.
Henley waves him over, and I stifle a laugh when she grumbles under her breath. “Presenting my brother, in his very original costume, dressed as a ball player at a wedding.”
“Am not.” He glares, insulted, producing a white mask from his pocket. “I’m a modern-day Phantom of the Opera.” He brushes his hair back and fixes the mask in place, making a few women around us audibly swoon, while others drift forward as though drawn into his spell, just like Christine was in the musical. Or in my case, the Gerard Butler movie.
Like them, I study Beckett’s new look and I can see the appeal. I wouldn’t have thought he could get any hotter, but damn…that mask is working for him. It makes him a little mysterious and I like it. A lot.
Henley catches my lingering gaze and raises an eyebrow in question, though I don’t miss the small smile she’s attempting to hide. She knows that half the population finds Beckett attractive. Hell, it’s likely more than that. There’s no point in me pretending I think otherwise.
I shrug and she laughs, confusing Beckett as his eyes bounce between us. “I don’t think we’ve met.” He holds a hand out for me to take, smiling politely. It’s his thing. He’s quiet and dedicated to football, but he’s always gracious, always kind, and the fans love him for it. Not to mention the media.
He’s being his usual courteous self, only…we have met. Whoops.
“I’m Beckett, Henley’s brother.”
Henley laughs, her head shaking incredulously until I subtly pinch her side.
“I’m Lily. I—”
“Work with Hen.” Recognition lights up his eyes, but there’s a good chance he's remembering my name, not my face. “Sorry, I mean, you co-own the shop.”
“That’s me. I’m also the lucky girl who got to experience your immense generosity. It’s nice to meet you.” I tried to thank him for our first class flight yesterday, but he was either busy with someone else or relaxing by the pool with an invisible sign that read do not disturb.
Beckett laughs and I find myself attracted to the deep rumble of his chuckle. I can’t remember ever hearing him laugh before.
“I couldn’t have Henley flying alone.” He plays it down.
“Well, thank you. I appreciate it all the same.”
“You’re welcome.” His happiness spreads, reaching his eyes before he glances over my shoulder and lowers his head in a nod. “I’m being summoned. Wish me luck.”
“Luck for having to do basic human interaction with your friends?” Henley calls him out, but it’s like water off a duck’s back; he’s immune to her teasing.
“Exactly. Have fun, you two. Henley, don’t drink too much. Vegas can be trouble.”
He walks away before Henley can respond, so instead, I’m hit with her annoyance. “I love him, but God, he can be a little overprotective at times.”
“He cares. I think it’s nice.” My attention drifts to where he’s talking to Hunter, and our eyes meet when he looks back in our direction. At least, I think they do. It’s hard to tell with our masks.
“You only think that because you don’t have a brother.” Henley continues her complaining and I stifle a laugh.
“Instead, I have you. Don’t try to pretend you haven’t been keeping an eye on me all night, making sure I’m having fun and that I’m not stepping so far out of my comfort zone that I can’t make it back.”
