Page 62 of Born Reckless

Britta simply gives a nod and pulls the door open. She steps out, looking up and down the hall. “You ready, handsome?”

“I’m ready,” I hear his low voice from the living room.

And suddenly my heart is hammering.

I never went to a prom. I was always working, or there was that one year my caretaker died, and I spent the night at the social worker’s office. It was always one depressing thing or another. Not that I’d ever been asked anyway. No one wants to take trailer trash to prom. So, I never got to experience this. The getting ready. The grand reveal. Taking in the look on his face.

I think I’m getting a do-over in this second life of mine.

I step out of the bedroom, and I make my way down the hallway.

And my eyes immediately lock with his as I come into view.

That’s reverence in his eyes. That’s wonder.

And everything in me breaks into a sprint. It breaks free, wild and eager. It tells me to stop worrying about the future and how it will affect Mason. Because being with him feels like a fairy tale. I feel like Cinderella, only this prince is happy to let me still be my sarcastic, slightly bitter self.

Even tough girls want the fairy tale.

“Juliet,” he breathes, but he doesn’t say anything else.

I smile as I walk to him, and I know I’m blushing. His eyes are taking me in. All of me. “What do you think?”

His eyes rise to mine, and he only shakes his head. And then he rushes forward, and one hand wraps behind my neck and the other goes around my waist. And he kisses me like he wants to keep me. Like I’m something precious. Like I have value.

He’s the golden prince of Chicago.

He could have anyone he wants.

I’m not high class. I don’t come from a good family. I haven’t finished school yet, and I have nothing to offer him.

But the way he’s kissing me, I almost believe that nothing about my past matters.

“Don’t you dare mess it all up before the whole supernatural population can see all my hard work,” Britta barks from behind me, utter annoyance in her tone.

Mason backs away just slightly, just until he can look in my eyes. “Sorry. I couldn’t help myself.”

A knock sounds on the front door, and Britta crosses to answer it. There, Elena and Tabitha stand, each of them looking like goddesses of the underworld.

“You polish up nicely,” Elena says with a proud smirk.

I take a dramatic bow, the skirt of my dress sweeping at my feet. “I stand corrected. Looking like a goddess isn’t so bad after all.”

Elena winks and nods out to the hall. “Let’s go. We need to be there to greet the guests as they arrive.”

So, I take Mason’s arm, and we all head down the elevator. We climb into the waiting limo, and I smile to myself. It really is a prom do-over. Mason runs his thumb over mine and I catch him staring at least a dozen times. Not that he’s trying to hide it.

We pull up in front of that beautiful, gothic building, and we each climb out.

There are dozens of people rushing around, but from their attire, it’s obvious that they are the hired help and not the attendees.

Event managers rush over to Elena and Mason the moment they climb out of the car, and we all make our way up the steps and then through the front doors.

This building was beautiful before. It’s a spectacular fantasyland now.

Everything is decked out in flowers and sparkling fabrics. And all of it is black and white, with little hints of gold here and there. The entryway is so lavish, I take a solid two minutes just to take everything in.

When Elena steps forward to push the doors to the ballroom open, I follow her and have to consciously not let my jaw drop to the floor.