Tray leaned against a limo parked next to the curb, his hands tucked into his suit pants and his focus on the starless night above. There was a hint of longing in his features, one that seemed to be distracting him from my arrival.
I cleared my throat to announce my presence.
He blinked and slowly drew his gaze to me, his irises reminding me of the black sky overhead as they heated in response to my attire. A slight shiver caressed my spine at the obvious approval in those dark, smoldering orbs. “You look gorgeous, Ella,” he murmured.
I shrugged. “Yeah, it’s amazing what a pound of makeup and a hairstylist can do. The dress isn’t too bad either.”
His lips curled as he shook his head, his messy auburn hair windblown from the incoming cold front. October in Massachusetts could go either way. Tonight seemed to be hinting at an icy winter to come.
Tray pushed off the limo, his eyes twinkling in the night as he stepped into my personal space to grab my hip. “It’s not the accessories that make you beautiful, Ella. It’s you.” He pressed his lips to my temple before moving to the side to offer his arm. “Shall we?”
I wanted to protest his compliment, but I bit my tongue and nodded instead. We were almost to the part where he revealed his true intentions. I’d let him think I believed this silly little game until then.
“Thank you,” I said as he helped me into the limo. My skirt took up half of the backseat, something that seemed to amuse him as he pushed some of the fabric aside to settle beside me. “What happened to your car?” I wondered out loud.
“Why? Do you prefer it over this extravagance?” he asked, picking up a platter of chocolate-covered strawberries and holding it out for me to pick one.
Indulging in one would ruin my lipstick. But I had a spare in my bag, thanks to the makeup lady. Another cost added to Tray’s account, no doubt.
I set my clutch to the side, plucked a big berry from the center, and took a bite instead of replying to what I assumed was a rhetorical question on his part. It seemed Trayton Nacht preferred countering inquiries rather than actually answering them.
He watched as I finished the berry, his attention on my mouth. I licked the juice from my lips and took another treat. Because why not? They were good and I’d always enjoyed strawberries.
The limo began to move, causing butterflies to stir in my belly. We were almost two hours late for the dance, which meant everyone would be there when we arrived—something I suspected might be the point of all this.
I took a third strawberry and waved the rest away, not able to stomach any more. They were delicious, but my nerves were getting the best of me.
Tray set the plate aside and turned to me. “Are you ready for a little experiment, Ella?”
“Depends on the experiment,” I replied, my insides twisting. Maybe the third berry was a bad idea. I shifted to place it on the platter and focused on him. “Why are you doing this?”
He chuckled. “I already told you why.”
“I want your real reason, Tray.” Because I didn’t buy for one second that he just wanted to help me seek retribution. There had to be another motive. No one did things out of the goodness of their heart. And this guy barely knew me. “Who put you up to this?” I asked, taking a new path in my questioning. “Ryan? Carmen?”
He huffed a laugh and shook his head. “Give me tonight, Ella. I promise that, by the end, you’ll understand.”
Meaning he intended to reveal some of his cards at the dance.
Fine.
If he was hoping for a repeat performance of my breakdown from freshman year, he’d be disappointed. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. And I wasn’t particularly fond of the idea of being made a fool.
“I’m not like the others at your school,” he added softly. “I’ll prove it to you.”
I shrugged, giving up. “Do your worst,” I dared.
“How about my best instead?” he countered, arching a brow.
I smoothed my gloved hands over my skirt. “Sure, Tray.”
We rode the rest of the way in silence. The palatial location hosting this year’s Homecoming seemed imposing and ominous as Tray assisted me out of the limo. Particularly with the way the sky hazed overhead, the clouds mingling with the moon high above. I half expected to see bats swirling around in the lamplights or an array of spiders climbing the stone walls. It would be appropriate for this time of year.
Alas, it was all decked out for the Homecoming dance Darlington Academy threw every fall on these decadent grounds. I wasn’t sure who owned the estate, but it was at least a hundred years old with a hint of European influence in the architecture.
Tray pressed his palm to my lower back, guiding me up the stone stairs and toward the giant wooden doors. Two men popped out from behind the pillars at the top to pull on the handles for us, causing me to move closer to Tray’s side. I hadn’t even noticed them in their black uniforms, and I didn’t particularly care for their abrupt appearance.
Pull it together, Ella, I told myself. It’s just a dance.