My mind is still on the solar panels as I walk into King of Hearts, Adam’s favorite rooftop bar. I left an overview of my plans with my dad, and though he chastised me, I know he’ll execute my ideas the first chance he gets. I just hope it works this time.
The bass’s vibrations cascade over my body as I weave through the crowd, my gaze roaming over the countless ballgowns and masks everywhere. King of Hearts is known for its themed parties, and the venue has transformed into something magical for tonight’s fairytale theme.
Fairy lights illuminate the path to the table Adam reserved for his birthday, and I force myself to cheer up and smile. I can’t let helplessness consume me — not tonight.
Adam spots me and holds up a shot glass with a mischievous expression, a gold-colored plastic crown on his head. “I warned you that you’d have to do a shot if your crazy plans to break into your dad’s lab made you late to my birthday.”
I shake my head and smirk, my mood improving rapidly. “No way!” I hold up my arm, pointing to my wrist. “Ten minutes before the clock strikes twelve!”
We’ve celebrated his birthday at midnight since we were ten, and this year won’t be an exception. I’ve hyper fixated on the solar panels for months now, and all it’s led to is me neglecting my classes and being banned from entering my dad’s lab. I won’t let it affect my friendships too.
Adam shakes his head and wraps his arm around me. “Fine,” he grumbles, his eyes roaming over my elaborate eye makeup. “What are you supposed to be?” he asks, frowning. “Are you a dragon? I was sure you’d show up dressed like a princess.”
I giggle and lean back, slipping out of his embrace to show off my makeup properly. King of Hearts is known for its theme parties, and I found the cutest face stickers to match tonight’s fairytale theme. “I’m a fairy! Fairy, fairytale, get it?” I thought it was obvious, given the elaborate wings around my eyes, but clearly not.
Adam’s lips twitch as he tries his hardest to suppress a smile, but he only lasts for a few moments before he barks out a laugh, his crown slipping in the process.
“Raya!” one of the girls from our Signals and Systems class shouts, and next thing I know, I’m holding a gold carriage-shaped cocktail glass. “Cheers!”
I take a deep breath before knocking it back, hoping it’ll take away some of my lingering somberness, yet knowing it won’t. Dad’s unshakeable confidence might fool others, but not me. I know we’re mere months away from bankruptcy, and our only salvation is the prototype. If I could just fix the solar panels, it could change everything. It’s like the solution is on the tip of my tongue, yet it continues to evade me. Watching Dad put on an act for me is becoming increasingly tough, and I’m not sure how much longer I can pretend to be clueless.
I take a steadying breath when Adam hands me another glass, his gaze roaming over my face slowly, his brow raised. “What’s wrong?” he asks, his arm wrapping around my shoulder.
I rise to my tiptoes to reassure him, but the words lodge in my throat. “It’s n-nothing,” I manage to stammer eventually, and Adam leans back a little to look at me, clearly far from convinced. “More importantly,” I tell him, pasting on a smile the second my phone begins to vibrate in my pocket, “are you ready for our countdown?”
His face lights up and he nods eagerly, his full attention on me as I count down from ten as best as I can in the noisy bar we’re in. “Three, two, one… happy 22nd birthday, Adam!”
My arms wrap around his shoulder, and he lifts me off my feet, crushing me in a strong hug. Adam buries his face in my hair for a brief moment before he sets me down again. I grin up at him, genuinely happy for the first time in hours as I push him toward our other friends, who are all eager to wish him a happy birthday too.
“You know what we need?” Sophia, Adam’s lab partner, shouts. “Shots!” Her words are so wildly in contrast with her cute Cinderella outfit that it takes me a moment to register her words.
Adam’s eyes find mine, and we both burst out laughing simultaneously. He knows how much I hate shots. “I’ll get them,” I tell her, “but I’m not doing any!”
Adam throws me a look that I instantly decipher as him checking if I’m okay, and I nod at him before walking toward the bar, my mood lifted.
Twenty minutes later, the bartender hands me a tray filled with twelve shots, and I grimace as I take them from her, not quite sure how I’m going to carry them back to my friends without spilling anything in this crowded space.
Almost as if the universe was trying to prove how hopeless my quest was, I crash into someone mere moments after I turn away from the bar, barely having taken a step. Blue liquor spills all over a perfectly white shirt, instantly soaking through the fabric.
Mortification washes over me, and I freeze as my gaze shoots up to the tall stranger’s face, only to find the top half of it obscured by a yellow and gold glittery mask in the shape of wings. My lips part, an apology on the tip of my tongue, yet my words momentarily fail me as I take in his dark hair, those dazzling emerald eyes framed by thick dark lashes that I’m instantly jealous of, and the sexiest cheekbones I’ve ever seen.
His eyes find mine, and he looks shocked, but there’s no anger in them. “I am so sorry,” I stammer eventually, feeling increasingly ridiculous as seconds filled with silence pass between us.
He shakes his head and smiles as he reaches for the wooden tray, revealing cute dimples that instantly make him even more attractive. “Let me help you with that before you do even more damage, little fairy,” he says, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “I don’t think this is safe in your hands.” He takes it from me and effortlessly holds it up above the crowd with one hand, the other reaching for mine. “Where am I carrying this to?”
My heart skips a beat as I tighten my grip on his hand and pull him along to our table, grateful for his help and far too mortified to object.
Adam smiles and waves me over when he spots me, only for that smile to fade when he notices the stranger trailing behind me, our hands entwined. “Raya,” Adam says the moment the tray is placed on the table. “Who is this?”
“Lex.” His voice is smooth and firm, a hint of danger in it that wasn’t there before. The name suits him — strong yet playful, which is the exact vibe he gives off.
I smile sheepishly. “I accidentally spilled half our shots all over him,” I begin to explain, belatedly realizing that I’m still holding his hand.
I pull my hand away, and he raises a brow as he leans in behind me. His lips brush over my ear, the sensation sending a shiver straight down my spine. “Raya,” he repeats, like he’s testing out my name. “Is that guy your boyfriend?”
Startled laughter escapes my lips, and I shake my head as I turn to face him, my chest brushing against his. “No. He’s my best friend,” I reply, used to the common assumptions people tend to make about Adam and me.
Lex stares at me for a moment, his eyes sparkling with something that can only be described as satisfaction. “Good,” he says, his voice bordering on a growl.
“How so?” I ask, unable to keep my tone from being flirtatious despite my best attempts.
Lex smirks, his hand wrapping around my waist. “He seems nice. I’d have hated being the reason his heart breaks.”
My eyes widen, and he chuckles as he gently pushes my hair behind my ear. “Lex,” I say, enjoying the way his name rolls off my tongue. “Bold of you to assume you’d ever stand a chance with me.”
“Would you like to bet that I can convince you to give me a chance before the night is over?” His gaze roams over his messy shirt. “And not just out of pity.”
I raise a brow, ready to wipe that smug smile off his face with a simple no when my gaze locks onto the golden raven on the buttons of his shirt. “That’s a Raven Windsor Couture shirt,” I mutter, my playfulness making way for shock. It isn’t the kind of shirt you can just buy — they’re all handmade, and they sell out within minutes to those that have been on waitlists for months. “I am so incredibly sorry, truly. Please let me reimburse you for it!” I take another look at the shirt and narrow my eyes. “Provided it’s real, that is.”
My fingers trail over his ruined shirt, and it isn’t until Lex grabs my wrist and flattens my palm against his chest that I realize what I was doing. “I assure you that it’s very real,” he says, grinning. “Regardless, don’t worry about it.”
His grip tightens around my wrist, and he takes a step closer. “However… if you did want to make it up to me, there is something I want, something money can’t buy.”
I raise a brow, curiosity drowning out my natural wariness. “Enlighten me. What is it you want?” I ask, bracing myself for the disappointment that’ll follow the no doubt piggish answer he’ll give me.
“Play truth or dare with me,” he says, catching me by surprise. Lex grins as he spreads my fingers across his chest and places his own in between mine. “Six rounds — one for each shot you spilled on me.”
