Chapter 5
ELISE
The dress looks different on me than it did on the rack.
On the hanger, it was just a black dress—simple, elegant, but nothing special.
On me, it fits like a second skin. The neckline dips just enough to be interesting without crossing into uncomfortable territory, and the hem falls to just above my knee, the fabric soft against my skin.
Whoever said that an LBD never misses must be heaven-sent, because I don't recognize the woman in the mirror.
"Holy shit," Jane says from behind me. "You look incredible."
"It's not too much?"
"Too much?" Jane laughs, coming to stand beside me. "Elise, it's perfect. You're gorgeous."
I fidget with my hair next. Jane slapped my hand away twice when I tried to straighten it earlier. "Leave it natural," she insisted. "It's sexier that way."
Sexy isn't usually a word I'd use to describe myself, but tonight ... maybe.
Jane squeezes my shoulder. "You're going to knock him dead."
Butterflies flutter in my belly at the mention of Elias. The memory floods back—his mouth between my thighs, my hand on him. We crossed a line that can't be uncrossed, and I have no idea what happens next.
I just really, really hope I won't get my heart broken in the process. I fully realize the risky game we're playing here. This could go horribly wrong for one or both of us. I love my horror stories, but I don't need my love life to become one.
"I don't know what I'm doing, Jane."
Jane turns me to face her. "What do you mean?"
"With Elias. This was supposed to be fake. A way to survive the reunion without looking pathetic. But now..."
"Now it doesn't feel fake anymore."
I nod, unable to articulate the tangle of feelings inside me.
"Elise, that man looks at you like you hung the moon. Trust me, I've been watching. Whatever started as fake isn't anymore for him, too. Trust your big sister, for once."
"But what if—"
My phone vibrates on the dresser, cutting me off. I grab it, my heart jumping when I see Elias's name on the screen.
Elias: Almost there. Can't wait to see you.
A second text follows immediately.
Elias: P.S. If you're freaking out, don't. You're going to be the most beautiful woman there. And you'll be with me, so no one will mess with you.
A third text.
Elias: P.S.S. James says I'm being "insufferable" and need to "chill." He's just jealous.
A laugh bubbles out of me, and the knot in my chest loosens.
"See?" Jane says, reading over my shoulder. "You're glowing. This is real for both of you."
"I don't know what it is."
Jane hands me my small clutch purse. "Well, whatever it is, it looks good on you." She pulls me into a quick hug. "Go show those assholes what they missed."
A few minutes later, a knock at the door sends a nervous jolt through me.
"That'll be him," Jane says with a grin. "I'll let him in."
Jane disappears to answer the door, and I take one last look in the mirror. The woman staring back at me still seems like a stranger, but for once, I don't hate what I see. I know it sounds crazy, but I'm warming up to the sight of myself.
I hear the murmur of voices from the living room, then footsteps approach. I turn just as Elias appears in the doorway.
Oh. Oh, dear God.
My pulse kicks hard at the sight of him in a suit.
He's wearing a charcoal suit that fits him like it was painted on, accentuating his broad shoulders and lean waist. His green eyes are bright against his skin, and his hair is slightly tousled in that way that makes my fingers itch to run through it … again.
I thought I couldn't possibly fall harder, but this suit changes everything.
"Elise."
I swallow, suddenly nervous under his gaze. "Hi."
He steps into the room, eyes never leaving mine. "You look..." He shakes his head and smiles softly. "Beautiful doesn't even start to cover it."
Heat creeps up my neck. "You don't look so bad yourself."
Elias grins, and my heart does a stupid little flip. This man—this gorgeous, gorgeous man—is looking at me like I'm the only woman in the world.
"Come on, ready to make everyone jealous?" he asks, offering his arm.
I take it, feeling the solid warmth of him through his suit jacket. "As ready as I'll ever be."
Jane appears in the doorway, phone in hand. "Picture first. Come on, indulge me."
Elias pulls me closer, his arm slips around my waist. "Smile for the camera, fake girlfriend."
I laugh, leaning into him as Jane snaps several photos. The flash goes off three times before she's satisfied.
"Okay, you crazy kids have fun," Jane says, shooing us toward the door.
Outside, his car waits at the curb. He opens the passenger door for me, and I step in, careful not to wrinkle my dress.
Once he's behind the wheel, he turns to me. "Seriously, are you okay? We don't have to do this if you don't want to."
"I promise I'm fine. A bit nervous, but that's it."
"Good." He reaches over, takes my hand, and brushes his lips across my knuckles. "Because I've been looking forward to showing you off."
The drive to James's hotel should be stressful.
I should be a bundle of nerves thinking about facing all those people who either ignored me or made my life hell, but with Elias beside me, it's .
.. nice. He tells me about how James nearly had a meltdown that morning when the florist delivered the wrong centerpieces for the reunion.
"So there's James, right? Standing in the lobby in this suit, screaming about how navy and cerulean are 'completely different color palettes, you uncultured swine.
'" We both laugh, relieving tension and unwrapping my nerves.
"James is not big on using expletives, but he did finish his tirade with one. "
I laugh. "Oh, poor James."
"Poor James, nothing. He's a tyrant when he's in event-planning mode." Elias glances over at me and raises one brow. "He almost didn't let me leave because, and I quote, 'Just because you're hopelessly in love doesn't mean you get special treatment.'"
My heart stutters. The way he says it—so casually, like it's a given, like he didn't just drop the L word—makes me wonder if there's truth behind the joke. It makes me stupidly hopeful, too.
Love.
"Eyes on the road, King."
His grin widens. "Can't help it. You're distracting, ma'am."
The rest of the drive passes in comfortable conversation, punctuated by moments of charged silence when he catches me looking at him, or I catch him looking at me. It's like we're both waiting to see where the night will lead us.
Too soon, we pull up to the Khan Hotel. It's the nicest hotel in the city if I say so myself, and seeing it lit up at night is breathtaking.
"James doesn't do anything halfway, does he?"
"Never has." Elias's hand finds the small of my back. "You good?"
I give him a smile, even as anxiety begins to bubble up again. There are people milling about in the lobby, familiar faces that make my stomach clench.
Elias must feel me tense because he leans down, his lips brushing my ear. "Remember, I've got you. Anyone gives you trouble, they answer to me."
His proximity, the warmth of his breath on my skin, the subtle scent of his cologne—it all combines to make my head spin, and I lean into him almost unconsciously.
"There they are!" James strides toward us, resplendent in a navy suit (definitely not cerulean … I think), and pulls me into a quick hug. "Girl, you look stunning."
"Thanks, James. The hotel is beautiful."
James beams. "Wait until you see the ballroom. Come on."
He leads us through the lobby toward a set of double doors where a small crowd has gathered. As we approach, people begin to notice us, or more accurately, they notice Elias. Phones come out. Whispers start.
I grip Elias's arm tighter.
He covers my hand with his. "Ignore them. They're not important."
James pushes the doors open, and we step into the ballroom.
For a moment, everything freezes. The music continues, but conversations stops. Heads turn. Eyes widen.
The ballroom is beautiful—all twinkling lights and elegant decorations in navy and gold—but I barely register it. All I can focus on is the weight of dozens of stares. Faces turned. Jaws dropped.
Elias's arm slides around my waist, pulling me firmly against his side. He leans down, lips brushing my temple. "You know what I'm thinking right now?"
I shake my head slightly.
"I'm thinking every guy in this room is kicking himself for not noticing you in high school, and every woman is wishing she was in your shoes. Right now."
The absurdity of that statement, along with the warmth in his eyes, surprises a laugh out of me. Just like that, the tension breaks. I'm still nervous, but the panic recedes.
James gestures for us to follow him to a table near the dance floor. "I saved you guys the best spot."
We make our way through the crowd, and a few former classmates smile or wave, clearly trying to catch Elias's attention.
"Vultures," James mutters under his breath as we reach the table. "Fair warning. Mia and her minions are over by the bar. They've been watching the door like hawks all night."
I spot them immediately. Mia looks like she stepped off an Instagram photoshoot—blonde hair perfect, dress probably designer, surrounded by Dana and Kerry, who seem to be dressed as slightly less expensive versions of her. When Mia notices me looking, her eyes narrow.
"Ignore her," Elias says, pulling out my chair.
"Easy for you to say," I reply as I sit. "You're not the one she's plotting to murder."
Elias takes the seat beside me. "Let her try. I'd love an excuse to put her in her place. Besides, shouldn't you be better at plotting murder than her? What happened to those tiny demons hollowing her out?"
James rolls his eyes. "You two are terrible at this fake dating thing."
I blink. "What do you mean?"
"You're looking at each other like you want to devour each other," James says with a smirk. "Also, Elias hasn't stopped touching you since you walked in."