She glares at him but doesn’t disagree.
Oliver chooses that moment to arrive, which puts Max in a better mood. The way his whole face changes the moment Oliver gets here is incredible. It’s something I’ve never seen before. It’s nice. It makes him seem more human.
“Are you ready?” Max asks, turning to me.
I arch a brow. “Ready? For what?”
Skylar presses her lips together against a smile. “You didn’t tell her?”
Oliver throws his arm around my shoulders and gives me a half hug, laughing.
Max shrugs, still looking at me. “It’s karaoke night.” He tilts his chin in the general direction of the stage. “Tristan mentioned you were a singer. Thought we should see for ourselves.”
“Aurora can sing,” Oliver assures him.
Glancing between Max and Oliver, I say, “I’ll sing, but only if Skylar goes first.”
She narrows her eyes at me. “I’m not going up there.”
“Come on,” I say. “I’m sure you’re great. If you get up there, I’ll buy your next round.”
“Fine. Whatever.” She downs the rest of her drink as an employee finishes getting the microphone ready. She gives him a song, and he nods, looking a bit starstruck as he walks away. She leans over the stage to where the bar is and grabs another beer. Max and I exchange amused glances when she walks back and taps on the mic.
“I’m doing this for the free drink. My coworkers are assholes.” She lifts her beer in the air. “Cheers.”
When the song ends, the entire room roars with whistles and claps. She smirks, tosses her hair back, and hops off the stage, coming back to our table.
She waves the bartender over, and he brings her another drink. “You’re up, Aurora,” she says, grinning like a cat.
I chew on my bottom lip, take another sip of my drink, and then head for the stage. When the music guy looks over at me, I lean away from the mic and pick a song before clearing my throat. Tapping my hand against my thigh to catch the beat, I start singing when the music comes on. My voice echoes through the room, getting louder as I go into the chorus, and the audience claps along. My eyes shut, and the lyrics flow through me. I grip the mic with both hands and sway with the music.
When I open my eyes, I almost stumble going into the last chorus. My eyes lock with Tristan’s where he stands with Max, Skylar, and Oliver. When the hell did he get here? Why the hell is he here?
The song ends, and the room gives me the same send-off as Skylar, hooting and hollering. I walk toward the stairs and trip over a cable on the stage. I’m heading for the floor—I’m going to fall right off the damn stage—but then Tristan’s arms are there catching me. He hauls me up against him with an amused glint in his eyes.
“Shut up,” I mutter.
“I think the words you’re looking for are ‘thank you,’” he murmurs.
“Not likely.”
“You’re feisty tonight.” His arm tightens around my waist, and parts of me like that way too much. “I was surprised to hear you left the office with Sky and Max.” His lips brush my ear when he speaks, making my skin tingle.
We shift to the side of the room as another person takes the stage to give karaoke a go, the crowd giving this guy the same attention Skylar and I received.
“They kidnapped me,” I mumble. “That seems to happen a lot around you guys.”
His breath tickles my skin when he chuckles. “That’s because we like you,” he says in a low voice. “Let me get you out of here.” The idea that he’s offering to save me from Max and Skylar makes me smile.
“I can’t,” I say. “Skylar wants me to work in the morning. We still have a lot to do for the gala.”
“You’re going to spend time with Skylar on a weekend?” The glint in his eyes makes it look as if he almost doesn’t believe me. Playful Tristan makes me giddy as a freaking teenager. Seeing him outside of the office, away from the constant fae issues he’s forced to deal with, it’s nice. Normal. Part of me is attracted to the mystery of him, but I find myself craving moments like these where I can look at him without seeing the leader of the dark fae and just see Tristan.
“I am.”
“Stay at the hotel. You’ll be an elevator ride away from the office in the morning.” He squeezes my hip, making my breath catch.
“If I say yes . . .” My voice trails off. I don’t know what to say next.
“Say yes,” he whispers.
Part of me is nervous, but another part feels I owe it to myself—the constant thoughts of Tristan, the way my body responds to him—to explore what this might be. My cheek grazes his chest as I tilt my head up to meet his gaze. “Okay,” I say.
He slips his arm from around my waist and grabs my hand, lacing his fingers through mine as we approach the table.
“You done feeling her up?” Skylar quips.
Tristan smirks at me. “Not nearly.”
“I’m going to head out,” I cut in. “Tonight was . . . fun.” I pull out enough money to cover the drinks.
“Damn, blondie, you’re packing the cash. We have to bring you out more often.” Ha. I wish I were ‘packing the cash.’ I’d gotten lucky when my parents sent me some money for food, most of which I just spent on booze I didn’t drink.
I laugh, giving Oliver a quick hug. “Goodnight, guys.”
“You better be in the office by nine tomorrow morning,” Skylar grumbles.
I mock salute her. “Yes, ma’am.”
Tristan leads me away from the table. Once we’re outside, I pull away, needing room to breathe for a minute.
“Rory.” His nickname for me sounds so smooth rolling off his tongue. “You need to relax. I can feel your anxiety. It’s pouring off of you in waves.”
Spinning around to face him, I cross my arms over my chest so he can’t reach for my hands. “This isn’t a good idea.” I glance around the street to make sure we’re alone.
He tilts his head, regarding me with a thoughtful expression. His eyes alone make me want to give in. “You’re in control here. I won’t do anything you don’t want me to,” he says.
My jaw clenches as my eyes flicker across his face. “You want me?” I whisper.
Taking a step toward me, he dips his face closer. “For some time now,” he says as if he has no qualms about admitting it. “You have a fire in you. It’s something I admire. While you tend to put yourself in unnecessary danger, sticking your nose into fae business as of late, your perspective on certain things is refreshing, to say the least.”
My mind races. “I don’t think . . . we can’t.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m terrified!” The words fall out before I can clamp my mouth shut. “I don’t feel like I’m in control when I’m around you.” It’s not something I ever wanted to admit. This moment feels different, as if it’s setting us on a new path.
He laughs. “You don’t think I feel the same? You challenge my every word. You go against everything I know.”
“You don’t know enough about me,” I say as if that might have the power to deter him while part of me hopes it won’t.