Star-Crossed Read Online Free Page B

and bodies at an appropriate distance. It was one of those moments that seemed to move in slow motion, just me and the man in the Fleur de Lis mask.
    The music drifted away, and what followed was an unmoving, silent pause.
    If we were strangers with any other label, I think he would have kissed me. But because he had a title, and I had a damning place cast below in the hells of his authority, there was no impassioned lip-lock, no sudden primal gestures.
    Not then, at least.
    So instead, he did the only thing he could. With a slow uncertainty, he reached down and removed my mask, holding it in his hands like some sacred object; his lips dropped in a melancholy line. Two ombre eyes fell down my frame like the brief pausing of an elevator as it stopped at every floor. His hands clenched the mask, and he nodded as if I'd said something. Like he was silently confirming his decision not to touch me.
    I reached up, pulling his mask down to his throat, and he didn't stop me. The fabric fell like a choker that he tugged off quickly, letting it fall silently to the ground.
    We looked at each other, centimeters apart and breath stifled. His dark eyes made his fair skin seem almost too pale, ghostly. But there was a soft, masculine beauty to him that couldn't have been attained with hours spent at the gym, or even the most carefully selected clothing.
    It wasn't love. I didn't love him. But I felt something - and that was enough to make me breathe in the air around us like it was some sweet nectar that if I didn't savor then, I'd never have the chance. He smelled of warm almond; of coffee and sweat, which might have been mixed with the espresso I'd drank or the caramel still lacing my breath. Cherry sugar still coated my tongue, and I wanted him to taste it.
    The ring on my left hand burned. But I was glad that he'd never actually noticed it; noting the symbolism of an unblossomed rose. What I was, and what he most certainly wasn't.
    “I should go,” he said quietly. “I'm sorry.”
    “Why?”
    He treaded backward a few steps, accidentally bumping into the wall. A quick hand steadied the painting, and he flushed.
    “Because I'm almost positive that the girl behind you...what's her name?”
    “Piper,” I said. He nodded.
    “Yes. Well, her father – I'm sure he's wondering where I went off to. I'll see you around campus, Kaitlyn.”
    Hearing him say my name for the first time was like seraphim singing through thin, cotton clouds. Intoxicating even in its two-syllable brevity. I wanted to hear him say it over and over again; a one word song that I would rewind and repeat forever.
    “I'll see you in class, Mr. Tennant.”
    His stare hardened; the knowledge of our future dynamic sinking into his bones. He looked like he wanted to say something again, but couldn't find the words. So instead, he side-stepped around me and disappeared; leaving me alone with the only company being the portraits of a dozen people that I didn't even know the names of.
    When I emerged, just seconds after Will, he was already gone. But in his place, of all people, stood Marius. A questioning flicker made his eyes glow, his hair mussed up in a way that made me want to laugh and vomit.
    “I see you've finished your business. Congrats, Marius.”
    “Was that Tennant?” Marius asked, ignoring my remark. “The guy that just spun around the corner?”
    He narrowed his eyes. I nodded.
    “What about it?” I asked.
    “Well, for starters, he was at my fencing class this morning,” Marius said. His fencing classes were on the Trinity Preparatory Academy's campus. “He complimented me. Nice guy. That accent will probably have every fucking girl on campus dropping their panties, though. God damn.”
    I grinned.
    “I think the right word would be knickers .”
    Marius glowered, shaking his head.
    “Whatever. I want to get out of here before Piper finds me. Are you ready?”
    “I was ready the moment we stepped through the door. Actually, I was ready before we