The Little Dove #3 ✔️

28. Dance Like We're Making Love

CHAPTER 28: Dance Like We're Making Love

His footfalls were fast and prominent. I stand with my bare back against the locker, with the ruby red rose in one hand, I watch him growl as he shoves Talon off him, "NO! Fuck it, she made her fucking choice!" He swears, blimey, did Thea kiss Forthright, for goodness sake?

"Calm down, man. I'm sure there's a reasonable explanation for-well, even agreeing to dance with him, that surprised me." Erik says, I look up just as they were ten metres away, no one looking up further as stress, anxiety and shock filters their faces when they watch him shove his fist into one of the open lockers. He doesn't even grunt as they pause.

"One of you, tell me what the fuck I've done to deserve this? Why is she doing this? Why dance with him? She didn't once speak to me the entire time throughout dinner, she barely even looked at me!" He turns towards them, I was hidden in the silhouette of the shadows.

Talon pinches the bridge of his nose. Lorraine looks like she's cursing me with the biggest scowl on her face. Lyndon even looks pissed off as he ruins his straightened hair, scowling towards the entrance of the large cafeteria room that was transformed into a black, white and red masquerade ball. Erik paces, holding his forehead.

They didn't even notice my heels clicking, just as Edmund hisses, "She didn't even wear the fucking necklace." He squares his shoulders, fisting his hands at his sides. He was a full-blown volcano, so ready to erupt any second. I knew I had to tread carefully here.

I smile to myself, "You mean this necklace?"

He stills in his form.

Talon is the first one to snap his head in my direction and the look on his face doesn't disappoint, eyes widened, he wracks his hand through dark strands. Erik slowly turns to me, before almost stumbling into Lyndon who mirrors his shock next to Iris in her sparkling ice-blue gown. Lorraine gasps as she stumbles in her heels to look around Edmund.

His face was worth more than our companies combined when he slows time. Penetrating tides and moons, colliding forces most wouldn't have known existed until the sculpting male before me, perfected and poised in his luxurious tuxedo gives me a hurt, betrayed, puzzled, shocked, pissed-off and dangerous look, all in one.

It was powerful.

Riveting.

And so damn sexy, he honestly created this jaw-dropping look. A real man right there.

His eyes scorch down my deadly low neckline, before trailing the slit at my thigh, I was dropping in red. Red silk dress. Backless. Exposing. Heat. Flame. Fire. Everything was empowered. The silk was wrapped around my neck, his ruby necklace matched my red lipstick. The heels were my three inch red heels. My hair was layered, overwhelmed by its own silk touch I inherited from Mom, I curled it in ringlets near the ends. He paints me like an exquisite artist in his silver eyes, embellished and ethereal.

I give him the innocent tilt of my head as I step further out of the shadows, "You didn't really think I'd voluntarily dance with Professor Forthright, now did you? Edmund?"

"Son of a bitch."

I blanch at him.

Lorraine points at me, "You didn't? YOU DIDN'T! Oh my god, is that Thea out there? It's been her this entire time!" She screams at me, I shrug.

Iris, Talon, Erik and Lyndon turn to her, confused and shocked to ruins.

Lorraine raises a hand above her chest, "She did this in high school. Thea could dress up like others on dares, do things no one was comfortable with like a game. She voluntarily dressed up like you, the hair, the eyes? You didn't just play Professor Forthright, you played...all of us?"