Chapter 17
Skye
Aknock on the door just after breakfast forced me wide awake. I open the door and find a box sitting innocently on the front step of the guest house, and no one in sight. It's wrapped in thick matte paper, elegant, and mysterious.
There's a card on top, with beautiful handwriting scrawled across the thick paper.
Let's go be someone else tonight. – G
My heart stutters. I pick it up slowly, my fingers tracing the edge of the note. The air feels thicker, like the world is holding its breath with me. I glance around, half-expecting to see Gage watching from a distance, but the yard is quiet, sun-drenched, and still.
I carry the box inside and set it gently on the kitchen island.
My fingers tremble as I undo the ribbon, peel back the edges, and lift the lid.
Inside, nestled in tissue paper, is the most stunning ball gown I've ever seen.
Deep red silk, with delicate beading that catches the light like fire.
It's luxurious, expensive, and brand new. It’s the kind of dress that lives in dreams and high-end magazines, not in the wardrobe of a broke college student.
There’s a fancy designer label of a hot designer. It's the most expensive thing I've ever owned. My throat tightens. It feels like something out of a dream. A dream I don't deserve but desperately want to live in.
My practical brain reminds me I could consign it later if needed, but the rest of me, the part that aches for Gage, knows I won't. This is more than a dress. It’s a memory waiting to happen.
I gasp softly as I lift it from the box, holding it against me. The fabric is buttery smooth, impossibly soft. Beneath the gown lies a matching mask, red with intricate black filigree, and beneath that, an invitation to a masquerade ball hosted by Club Red.
Sinking onto one of the barstools, the weight of it all presses into my chest. The gown, the mask, the invitation, and his words.
To be someone else tonight, perfect.
I slip the invitation into my nightstand and run my hand over the fabric again. I'll have to figure out how to consign it later. But tonight? Tonight, I'm going to wear this dress and pretend I'm someone else.
Because somewhere in that crowd, he will be waiting.
And I plan to find him.
Gemma squeals when she sees the gown, insisting I get ready at the main house with her. She drags me into her bedroom, all soft lighting and the faint scent of her favorite vanilla candles. Her energy is infectious, and for the first time all day, I let myself smile.
Two girls arrive shortly after, arms full of cases and curling irons, their smiles bright and professional. "Hair and makeup," one announces.
I glance at Carter, who's lounging in the doorway with a coffee mug in hand. "You didn't have to go all out," I say.
He lifts an eyebrow. "I took care of Gemma, but you? That was all Gage."
My breath catches. My stomach flutters with something sharp and sweet. He thought of everything. I've never been pampered like this before. I'm always the one doing the pampering, and Gage knows that.
Gemma nudges me with a grin. "Told you he was serious."
When my eyes water, the stylist who is brushing my hair fans my face.
"No crying. It will mess up your makeup, and I promise, honey, we are going to make his jaw drop," she says, getting busy.
While they work on my hair, I sit quietly with my fingers curled around the armrest of my chair.
They talk softly while working, one styling my hair into soft waves pinned just so, the other brushing color onto my cheeks, eyes, and lips.
They transform me slowly, with care, as if I'm something precious.
Halfway through, Carter knocks lightly and walks in holding a chilled bottle of water and a folded note. He offers them to me without a word, and I open the card.
Take a deep breath, beautiful. Let yourself be spoiled. Tonight is for you, and I can't wait for the moment I finally see you in that dress. All my attention is already yours. Be mine, even just for tonight. I can't wait to lose myself in you. Every second until then will feel like torture. –G
Emotion slams into me, unexpected and overwhelming. I press the note to my chest for a second, trying not to cry and ruin the perfect makeup.
"You okay?" Gemma asks.
I nod, eyes stinging. "Yeah. Just... he did all this for me."
Gemma smiles softly. "He sees you, Skye. And you see him. That kind of thing? It doesn't come around often."
We finish getting ready, and when I slip into the dress, it hugs me like it was made for me. The fabric drapes perfectly, and the mask fits like it belongs. When we finally look in the mirror, we don't look like ourselves.
If he hadn't sent the dress and known what to look for, he might not find me because you can't tell who I am, not even up close.
As we head downstairs, Carter is waiting at the bottom of the stairs, holding two large, square black velvet jewelry boxes. He hands one to Gemma and then offers the other to me.
Gemma opens her and squeals, leaning up to kiss Carter before he helps her put on the necklace set.
I open the box and gasp. Inside are a necklace and earring set, glittering with delicate red stones and gold filigree. Nestled inside is another small note.
I chose these because they reminded me of you. Bold, beautiful, and impossible to ignore. Wear them tonight, not for the crowd, not for the fantasy, but for me. When I see you, I'll know you're mine. –G
I swallow hard, my fingers trembling as I lift the necklace. Gemma steps behind me.
"Wow, it matches your dress perfectly," Gemma whispers before she helps fasten the necklace around my neck.
She holds the box while I put on the earrings.
Though I hide the note, keeping it just for me.
Then, I place it in the box on the table there, I will have to come back to get it tomorrow.
There might come a time when these will be all I have to remember him, but tonight I will make the memories last forever.
"He's thought of everything," I whisper, my voice catching.
"He's never done this for anyone," Carter says. "Gage... he's different with you. I've never seen him like this."
I glance at him, my voice barely a whisper. "Are you sure it's not just the forbidden part of it all? That it's not just because we can't have each other?"
Carter shakes his head. "I'm sure. It's the way he looks at you. The way he talks about you when you're not around. He's all in, Skye. He just doesn't know how to show it without crossing lines."
Tears prick my eyes again, but I blink them back yet again.
The three of us ride to the ball together. The entire way I can only think about the moment when he finally finds me, making nerves flutter in my stomach like birds.
Someone turned the main room of Club Red into a ballroom from a fairytale. All candlelight and music, with faces hidden behind ornate masks, anonymity wraps around us like a second skin. My heels click softly against the floor as I enter with my heart pounding.
Somewhere in this crowd, he's waiting.
And I plan to find him. Weaving between groups of guests talking, some already removing clothes and doing more than talking.
I don't have to look long.
I feel him before I see him. I feel his eyes on me, running over every inch of me. Scanning the crowd, I look for him.
Then Gage steps from the shadows in a midnight black suit, mask concealing everything but the way his gaze devours me. I forget how to breathe for just a moment.
"You found me," I whisper.
His fingers skim my bare shoulder, tracing slow circles. "I'd know you anywhere."
His other hand takes mine.
"Red suits you," he murmurs.
"And black suits you," I reply, heart thudding.
His lips twitch, but his eyes are all hunger.
He offers his hand. "Dance with me."
I shouldn't.
But I do.
We move like we've done this a thousand times, his grip firm at the small of my back. Every step, every brush of our bodies sends shivers down my spine. The music fades and the crowd vanishes. There's only him and me.
His hand slides lower, skimming just above the curve of my ass, his fingers pressing into my waist possessively, pulling me closer. Every pivot of the dance pulls our bodies tighter, the tension between us crackling.
He dips me low, lips brushing the shell of my ear. "You're killing me in this dress."
I can barely breathe. "You picked it."
"Because I knew what it would do to me," he growls.
His voice is raw and low, sending heat pooling between my thighs. I want to feel him, skin to skin. I want to see his face twist with pleasure as I give in completely.
When he pulls me upright again, our chests brush, and I swear he groans.
"We need to leave," he whispers against my lips.
"Soon," I whisper back.
Then it happens.
"Professor?" a voice breaks the spell beside us.
My blood turns to ice.
Gage's grip tightens just slightly as I freeze.
A student. Someone who shouldn't be here. Someone who could ruin everything.
Gage steps between me and the student, hiding me, protecting me.
The voice continues, hesitant now. "Professor Adams?"
A beat. Gage's voice stays low and smooth. "You must be mistaken. That's not me," Gage says.
A pause. Then the student chuckles awkwardly. "Thank god. Never been happier to be wrong, can you imagine?"
She leaves, and relief floods me. My knees nearly buckle, but Gage guides us to the edge of the room, shadows cloaking us.
"That was close," I breathe.
His hand slides to my throat, fingers resting lightly. "You like the risk."
"I like you," I whisper.
His thumb strokes my jaw. "Even if we had been caught, I never would've let you go."
Then he kisses me.
An all-consuming deep kiss with the promise of more.
When we finally break apart, I'm breathless.
"Come home with me," he says.
I nod.
We don't speak on the ride back. The silence between us thrums with need. It's just us in the back of his limo, with the privacy wall separating us from his driver. It's our own little bubble, and neither of us removes our masks.
His hand finds my thigh, sliding beneath the slit of my dress, fingers trailing up and down slowly, teasing. I gasp softly as he presses higher, his eyes locked on mine. We're barely holding it together.
I reach over, hand resting on his thigh, inching higher, feeling the tension thrumming through him. He groans, low and dangerous, turning his head briefly to look at me.
"Skye," he warns.
"You started it," I whisper.
He slides his fingers higher, grazing the edge of my panties. I bite my lip to stifle a moan. My hand finds his zipper, fingers brushing over the hard line beneath.
"If you keep doing that, we won't make it to my house," he growls, his voice thick with desire.
I lean in closer, lips almost brushing his ear. "Maybe that's what I want."
His hand closes around my wrist, stilling my movements. His touch is firm but gentle, sending shivers up my arm. "Not like this. Not rushed in the back of a car when I've been dreaming of taking my time with you."
The intensity in his eyes makes my breath catch. Even with the mask covering half his face, I can see the raw need there, carefully restrained. My body thrums with anticipation, every nerve ending alive and waiting.
He wraps my hand around his neck before leaning in to kiss me. I tangle my hand in his hair as he rubs my clit over my panties.
I gasp and try to reach for him again, but he stops me.
"No," he murmurs against my lips. "Tonight is about you."
His fingers slip beneath the lace, finding me wet and ready. I arch into his touch, a soft whimper escaping my throat. The mask makes everything feel more intense, more forbidden. I can't see his full expression, but I feel his breath hitch as I react to his touch.
"So responsive," he whispers, circling slowly. "I've imagined this so many times."
The car slows, and I realize we've arrived. Gage withdraws his hand, leaving me aching and desperate.
He helps me out, lips brushing my ear. "My place or yours?"
As much as I want to be in his bed, going to his house feels like another line I'm not ready to cross.
"Mine," I say.