Page 60 of Knot a Bad Idea
“Hunter!” Someone claps me on the back, and I turn to see Tom, who’s dressed in an emerald green suit and sporting his usual think rimmed glasses, grinning widely. “And Liam! Where’s the grumpy one, huh?”
I shrug and match his grin, happy to see a true friend and not someone I have to be fake around. “Fuck if I know,” I say, then motion to his suit. “I didn’t realize this was a costume party.”
Tom narrows his eyes at my barb. “This is custom from Milan. Don’t be a dick.”
I snort. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
“Not all of us are computer nerds like you, Hunter. Some of us actually enjoy ourselves at these things.”
Which is funny, because I would argue Tom is nerdier than me. He created a new line of code that cybersecurity companies use.
The guy wrote anew coding language.
Besides Donovan, Tom is the smartest motherfucker I know.
And also the most fashion savvy.
I appreciate seeing a familiar friendly face here besides Liam, who is greeting Sophie with a polite smile. She’s dressed in a beaded, ridiculously poofy ball gown that matches Tom’s suit, and she waves when she sees me.
“Where’s April?” she screeches excitedly. “I’ve missed her!”
“Join the club,” I murmur under my breath, and she gives me a confused look.
“Is she not coming? Aww, that’s the only reason I came over to say hello.”
I scoff, then turn to Liam, whose eyes have grown wide as he stares behind us.
“What are you—” I follow his gaze, and my mouth falls open.
April strolls into the ballroom proudly, her hair pulled up with delicate light brown tendrils falling loosely on either side of her face. She wears a blood red strapless gown, not as puffy or obnoxious as Sophie’s, but still appropriate for the event. The train of the dress trails slightly behind her, and she looks like fucking royalty.
Her head is held high with her beautiful, pale neck on display.
I forget how to breathe.
My girl is in front of me, dressed like a princess.
She doesn’t bother scanning the room for any of us; she just walks up to the nearest tray of champagne flutes and takes one in her gloved hand.
I stare, dumbfounded, as her blood-red lips take a sip of the drink.
“Holy shit,” Liam mutters, a choking sound coming from his throat. “Holy…shit.”
Sophie rushes over to her, the skirt of her gown moving as she greets April, who finally looks in our direction.
When she sees me, she gives me a smile.
But it’s not a genuine April smile, sarcastic and playful.
No, this is the smile of a woman that knows the part she’s supposed to play.
It doesn’t reach her eyes. It’s polite and pretty, but it means nothing when there’s not the spark of fire in them.
April has closed herself off from us, and we have no one to blame but ourselves.
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