That uneasiness grew as I pulled on my underwear and bra, but I couldn't pin why it was bothering me. The dress was in the next room, so I wrapped up in the towel once more.

  I stepped out into the main room. "Juniper…"

  Rhodes looked up from the book he was holding out to Juniper, and his eyes widened, taking me in, his shock flaring out and encompassing me.

  I swore and slammed the door to the bathroom, hiding in the foggy room, more in a reflex action than anything, and he flared with the sting of rejection. I hadn't even realized that what I'd felt was him, much less had time to think about my reactions.

  I'd hurt him, could feel how wounded he was. I stood there, not entirely sure what to do.

  What could I do? And why did I so desperately want to ease his pain?

  Chapter 6

  Someone rapped on the bathroom door, and I froze, hardly daring to breathe. "Stella," Rhodes called from outside, sounding like he was only standing a few inches away.

  "Occupied," I squeaked back.

  "Stella, please, we need to talk," he said, and there was a soft thump as though he'd dropped his head against the door, his pang of resignation stinging my heart. This wasn't how he wanted things to be between us, that much was clear. I almost wished I was brave enough to agree.

  "Not in a towel, we don't," I retorted. "I'm not dressed. Go away, please, Rhodes."

  I heard a stifled laugh and then a scuffle, his annoyance flaring out and reaching me.

  "Out," Juniper said from slightly farther away, and I stood listening until her door slammed.

  Quick footsteps, and she tapped on the door. "Sorry, didn't expect you to be done so fast."

  "He gone?" I asked, chewing my lip. I kept my ears perked for the slightest sign he wasn't, but I knew he was. His frustration and longing was reaching me still, muted with distance more and more by the second.

  "He is now," she said smugly. "Come on out. You gave him an eyeful of all that he ain't getting."

  I snorted at that, cracking the door with the towel hiked up under my armpits. "He doesn't even like me."

  "Oh, honey," she said, pulling the door the rest of the way open. "You didn't see his face. He's regretting some life choices right now, let me tell you that."

  I peered into her room, but there was no sign of him, and my shoulders relaxed a bit. "Why was he here?" I asked doubtfully as I followed her to where my dress lay spread across her bed.

  She grinned, casting a mischievous look at me. "I texted him and told him I needed a book back."

  "You didn't," I gasped and reflexively swatted her. Then I cringed, realizing I'd just hit her and there was probably some societal restriction on humans hitting fae or something.

  She just laughed, lifting the dress and holding it out to me. "Did you use everything I told you to?"

  I wrinkled my nose, taking the dress and sliding it easily over my head. "Yes," I said, muffled by fabric while I tugged. "I smell like rosemary now. Thanks for that."

  "You smell amazing," she told me, pulling sharply at the hem so the whole thing settled around my hips and freed my head. "And I swing your way, so I can totally vouch for it working."

  "Still not gay," I said, sliding my sleeves into place and checking the back to make sure it wasn't caught anywhere.

  "More's the pity," she said and put her hands on her hips, looking me over. "What shoes are you wearing?"

  "Mine," I said with a shrug. "I don't have another pair."

  "Foot size?" she demanded, stalking over to a closet.

  "Seven," I told her, and she dug around for a few moments before coming out with ballet flats.

  "Not quite your size," she said ruefully, "But they stretch. They're my only old pair, and I didn't throw them out for sentimental reasons, so we're lucky we have them."

  I accepted them, looking at her curiously. "You did ballet?"

  She flashed a smile. "Not much, but my ex did. She was flexible, let me tell you."

  I huffed a laugh, tossing the flats on the floor. "Too much information."

  They fit surprisingly well, so I spun, the dress rising around my hips, for her to see.

  She nodded slowly. "It'll do." Then she gestured towards her vanity. "Sit."

  I obeyed, sitting demurely on the white chair while she fussed at my hair, adding clips and pins here and there. "It's not dry," I reminded her.

  "Will it curl as it dries?" she asked, a bobby pin pinched between her lips.

  "No," I said, watching her in the mirror as I tried to figure out what she was doing.

  Finally, I gave up and just asked. "What are you doing to the back of my head?"

  She flashed a grin. "You'll see."

  I groaned but held still. "Don't you have to get ready too?"

  She rolled her eyes and placed another pin, the end of it sparkling with some sort of gem. "Nah," she said. "I'm leaving my hair natural because Calix hates it that way."

  I blinked. "But that's just how your hair is?" I said, more question than statement.

  She winked at me. "He insists he isn't racist, but he can't deal with a girl's curls. So I won't bother straightening it."

  "Do you stir every fire you see just to see what burns?" I wondered aloud, and winced when she jabbed me in retaliation.

  She smoothed her hand over the sore spot on my head. "Sorry, that was an accident." "Uh huh," I said, giving her the stink eye, and she laughed softly to herself.

  Then she straightened and passed me a hand mirror. "Take a look."

  I twisted around and used the mirror to look at the vanity mirror. My hair was twisted into a star at the back of my head, one sparkling pin at each point and ribbons threaded and braided between.

  "Wow," was all I managed, and I reached up to gingerly pat it.

  "No touchy," she said, batting my hand away. "I need to spray it."

  "But how did you do it?" I asked, looking at it this way and that. The hair looked twisted but also like it might be braided, and I wasn't sure how she'd managed with hair that only reached my chin.

  She brandished a spray bottle. "Cover your face."

  A good dozen spritzes later, I was sneezing and my neck was cold from the mist. She dropped the bottle on the vanity and dragged my chair around, with me in it.

  "I can get up," I sputtered, but she just pulled me towards the bed, disregarding any damage she was doing to her expensive carpeting.

  "Stay put," she told me, and she gathered up my makeup, what there was of it, and started unpackaging it beside her on the bed. Then she flopped down and began sorting. "You can't use any of my setting powders, so try not to get sweaty, okay?"

  I rolled my eyes at that. "It's a dance. I'm going to dance." She laughed, glancing at me to see if I was serious. "You dance?"

  "Not well, but absolutely," I said with a grin.

  "Fantastic," she said, pulling some make up brushes off her vanity and starting in on my face.

  I shut my eyes so she could work. "You like to dance?"

  "Love it," she said, brushing something off the bridge of my nose with her fingers. "We can be dance buddies."

  "Should we hold hands?" I retort, earning another laugh.

  Then she settled in to working. It was a good hour later, even with the few items she had. When she finished, she stepped back, swinging her arm towards the vanity.

  I obediently got up and peeked at myself, tilting my head this way and that. I didn't look made up so much as put together.

  "Subtle enough?" she asked.

  I leaned in closer to see that my eyes were lined, close to the lash line. "You made me look like me but prettier," I admitted.

  "Exactly," she said, gathering everything up and tossing it in a makeup bag she pressed into my hands. "It takes a whole lot longer to make it look natural."

  "Thank you," I told her, genuinely meaning it.

  She just waved her hand at the bed and snagged the vanity chair. "Don't lay on your hair or wrinkle your dress, but get comfortable. I'm doing my make up, and it'll take a while."

  "Classy lady," I said teasingly, and she flashed teeth at me.

  "You bet I am."

  I settled on the bed, crossed legged with my dress spread out so it wouldn't crease, and pulled out my phone.

  There were messages waiting, as there nearly always were.

  CALIX

  Going to the dance?

  ME

  No, I thought I'd stay home and watch rom coms.

  He hadn't spoken to me in days, but it was nice of him to reach out. There was a pause, so I checked Anna's messages, snorting as each one got more ridiculous guessing what I might be wearing.

  Then…

  CALIX

  Really?

  ME

  Of course not.

  CALIX

  Oh, good. I'll be there. What will you be wearing?

  ME

  You'll see when I get there.

  CALIX

  A hint. Anything.

  I relented at that, looking at my dress and deciding on a good angle. I finally took a photo so my ballet flat, my bare calf, and a hint of brown fabric were all visible.

  I sent that to him with a winking emoji.

  Another pause.

  CALIX

  Tease.

  ME

  That's all you're getting.

  CALIX

  Do you need me to pick you up?

  ME

  No, I'm at Juniper's.

  Another pause.

  Then.

  CALIX

  You're going with Rhodes?

  ME

  No. I'm going with Juniper.

  Then I sent a smile and set my phone down, ignoring the next few messages coming in while I watched Juniper get ready.

  She really was an expert, because she took the natural lines of her face and made them mysterious in a way I couldn't pin down. Her dark skin was dusted with gold, her eyes lined in black and gold, and there was no small amount of contouring going on there.

  "Why did you make me look natural and you some kind of goddess?" I asked without thinking my words through in advance.

  She cast me a look, one brow arched. "Do you want to look like a goddess?"

  "No," I admitted. "I just wanted to look pretty."

  "And you do," she said. "I, however, want to look down upon those mere mortals attending the dance and sneer at them."

  I snorted. "Yeah, yeah, you do that."

  She finished her lipstick off with a coating of clear gloss and turned to me, sitting regally with curls loose around her face and shoulders, and she looked down her nose at me.

  I cracked up, and it was only a few seconds before she gave into the giggles too.

  "Don't make me cry," I gasped. "My mascara—don't make me cry."

  Someone rapped on the door then, and it took a moment before we both subsided enough to be decent and she got up and went to answer it, swaying with every graceful step and playing up her character entirely too well.

  I may not bat for her team, but even I could admire her, and I sat back to do just that.

  She spoke briefly with the person on the other side and then turned to me. "Ready?"

  I blew out a breath while I carefully blotted at my eyes with my fingers. "As I'll ever be."

  The school dance wasn't stuffy and contained to the gym like I expected it to be.

  Instead, fairy lights roped out a large area of the rolling lawn on the side nearest the cemetery.

  I followed Juniper down the freshly mown football field, now realizing why she had foregone heels and instead wore flats not too dissimilar to the ones I'd borrowed. The grass swept along my ankles, cool with the evening dew, and we approached an archway built of lights and balloons.

  Several teachers I recognized stood there, taking the entry fees, and when Juniper pulled out her wallet from wherever she had stashed it, I hurried to pull my coin purse out of my cleavage.

  Ten dollars later, and we were ushered through into an open area surrounded by fairy lights, their glow just bright enough to let us walk around. Tables sat at one end with sodas in coolers beneath them and food piled high in trays. On the other end, students danced, some swaying together to the boxed music, but a few spinning and dancing wildly.

  It wasn't crowded, not with this small a school and this large a space, but it was lovely, dimly lit and mysterious.

  If she knew in advance what the setup would look like, I now understood why Juniper had gone with the look she had as the gold glimmered and stood out starkly in the reflected lights. She really did look like a goddess as she led the way to the tables. We pulled bottled waters from the coolers, filled our plates, and then stepped out of the way to start picking through the options on our plates.

  Wilder was the first to see us, staggering out of the dancing area right up to us, nearly running into me. He froze, eyes dilated and dark as he stared at me, his breath heavy with the scent of alcohol and warm against my cheek.

  "Yes?" said Juniper, mostly sounding amused as she bit into some cheese.

  "You smell amazing," he told me, leaning closer.

  I leaned back, pushing my plate between us. "That's creepy. How much have you had to drink?"

  He flushed then, visible even in the dim lighting. "I'm sorry. I just… you smell so good."

  Juniper patted him on the arm. "Of course she does. I picked her perfume."

  He shot her a wide-eyed glance. "What is it?"

  She leaned closer, whispering softly enough that I barely caught it. "Magic. A test set for all of you boys."

  He licked his lips, looking at me, then at her. "I could smell it from the dance floor," he admitted. "It went to my head. I'm sorry."

  I shrugged, holding my plate out in front of me to give me space and I shot Juniper a poisonous look. "It's okay."

  I hadn't expected this obvious a reaction. Somehow, despite Juniper's earlier explanation, I had expected the usual subtle sniffs and attraction, nothing more.

  I definitely hadn't expected it to literally pull him off the dance floor.

  "Is the court here?" she asked him, glancing around as though she didn't see my pointed glare, but the smile tilting the corner of her mouth showed she was all too aware of it

  He swallowed hard, his gaze focusing in on me again. "Not yet," he breathed, and he leaned in as if I had some force of gravity pulling him nearer.

  "Great," I muttered, easing back and raising my plate between us again. "Can I wash this off?"

  Juniper snorted at that. "No. It has to wear off. You wanted to see their true colors? You get to see them."

  Wilder read the room and took a step back, staggered, then forced himself to retreat from me.

  I almost felt bad for him. It was clear the draw to me that he felt was beyond his control, although I wasn't sure how much of his odd behavior was the alcohol and how much was the perfume's effect.

  My phone, tucked in a small purse from Juniper, chimed once, twice. Three times.

  Keen for anything that would distract me from the current situation, I pulled it out.

  CALIX

  Are you here?

  CALIX

  I haven't seen you.

  CALIX

  You are coming, right?

  I paused. Did that mean he hadn't gotten close enough to smell me?

  ME

  By the food.

  Then I tucked my phone away and contemplated the buffet again. I tried another type of cheese. This area of the country had so many different kinds of cheese it was staggering, and I intended to try every option tonight.

  Movement off to my side drew my attention back to the crowd.

  Birch had arrived. He reacted slower than Wilder did, but his focus was 100% on me, his eyes wide and dark. The way he moved, it was as though he was struggling to wade through deep water, his gaze never leaving me throughout his approach. When he finally staggered to a halt a few feet away, he was able to divert his attention slightly to shoot Juniper a horrified look. "What did you put on her?"

  Juniper just smiled and took a bite of summer sausage, smirking as she chewed.

  He stepped closer, almost as though he couldn't resist, his eyes locked back on mine.

  "You smell amazing, luv," he told me, unguardedly, for the first time since I'd met him.

  I swallowed hard, clearing my mouth. "Thanks?"

  He reached out, slowly, so slowly, until his hand hovered next to the tattoo on my cheek, and I froze, hardly daring to breathe. If he touched me, would I feel his emotions too?

  Then he swore, jerking his hand back and stepping back from me. He cast a desperate look at Juniper.

  She just flicked her fingers at him. "Go dance."

  He sucked in a deep breath, fighting himself. Another.

  And then spun on his heel and plunged into the crowd.

  I shot Juniper another look. "What did you put on me?" I hissed.

  She smiled serenely at me and took a sip of her soda.

  "Seriously," I demanded. "Is every fae guy here going to lose it like this?"

  "No," she said, finally deigning to answer. "Only those who could love you."

  I scoffed at that. "Wilder and Birch do not love me, I assure you."

  "No, not yet, but I said could—not do," she said smugly. "They could, so they're snared by this type of magic."

 

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