Accomplice to the Villain (Assistant and the Villain, #3)(109)

He spun her then, and when she returned to his arms, their faces were much closer, her lips hovering just below his, his lids growing heavy as he stared. “Evie, I—”

She felt her cheeks burn bright. “Yes?”

His dark gaze was burning her from the inside out. “It wasn’t a slip… Happy birthday.”

She smiled, squeezing his hand. The one around her waist moved to her lower back, tugging subtly closer as she whispered back, “Thank you, Trystan.”

They spun in another circle and another.

A warm glow stayed around him like a beacon of safety…or a clear arrow pointing to her doom. Destiny had seemed to decide he was the latter. But Evie was so tired of people making decisions for her, about her.

You want to ruin my life, Destiny?

Get in line. I’ll call your number when the rest of my family has finished.

She laughed at her own joke and stepped on Trystan’s toes as a result. He hissed, pulling her tighter against him, and took a stronger lead as he swept her around the boat in smooth turns. “There. You are publicly humiliating me in front of a crew I’ve known since I was six, and you got to stomp on my toes. I’d say my present ranks at the very top.”

He didn’t stop dancing. Neither did she.

“I do not know. Lyssa’s card last year was hard to beat, plus Tatianna figured it out yesterday and snuck a bottle of wine into my pack.” She ticked each item off on her fingers. “Oh, and Marv packed me a ton of Edwin’s cookies for the road.”

“I do not want to be put up against Marv,” he replied with the smallest hint of offense.

Evie nodded sympathetically. “I wouldn’t, either, if I were you. He’s kicking your ass.”

In a whirlwind, she was spun, the black iridescent glitter skirt blurring in her vision, and then she gasped as she was dipped low. Trystan caught her, his face hovering over hers. Trapped in her sphere as she was trapped in his, an invisible force tugging the two of them closer and closer until—

A whistle broke them apart. She laughed, and he blushed. For a split second, they were not Villain nor Assistant nor Apprentice nor Accomplice. They were Trystan and Evie, exactly as they could’ve been in a different life, with rules that were fair and lives that were without pain, without struggles for power.

For another split second, Evie wanted that life. And in the next, she did not.

Who they were now was what she wanted; who they were now made her breaths easier, her steps lighter, her heart inflating until it felt too big.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked, searching for something in her expression that Evie was not sure of.

“You,” she said boldly—not blurted, not word-vomited in haste to answer a question. This was Evie unabashed, and she liked herself like this.

His eyes flared, his searching gaze turning deep, burning, wanting. It was too intense; the moment was becoming too real, making her heart pound and her skin prick and her breath quicken.

“I was thinking about how during my first week of work, I started sneaking in little figurines of cats and hiding them in different places to see how perceptive you actually were.”

Trystan’s voice was outraged. “I’ve never seen any cat figurines in the office.”

She giggled, and the snort following was so strong she nearly let go of his hands, and likely would have, if he had not tightened his hold to steady her. “No, you didn’t see any, did you?”

He fumed.

She smirked.

He fumed harder.

“What a wonderful birthday.” Evie swung her arms wide, turning in a spin, raising her hands into the air as she moved in circle after circle, the way she did when she was young, and it was fun to see the world tilting beneath her vision, not scary or dangerous. She kept spinning until she was subtly moving away from the dance floor and into a secluded spot away from the noise. Stopping to catch her breath and to quiet the rush in her head.

Trystan appeared at her elbow, scaring the living dragons out of her. “Sage.” He ignored her yelp, grabbing her arm and tugging her farther into the shadows. “I was not finished with you yet. I have something else I want to give you for your birthday.”

“A raise? Along with my new promotion? Since I’m now your accomplice?” she said with a teasing smirk.

“Very well. But that wasn’t what I was going to—” He was irritated at first, then paused for a moment, his features softening. “Never mind that. I wanted to show you this.” He reached into his pocket and grabbed a crumpled piece of paper. Evie half expected steam to come out of his ears when he finally caught on to the fact that she really wasn’t jesting.

He raked a hand through his hair, a bit of it standing almost straight up as he handed her the piece of paper.

Evie ran a finger lightly over it, unable to make out any words in the dim glow of the lanterns. “What is this?”

“It’s the letter Arthur wrote me after you rescued me from the Gleaming Palace,” he said, shoulders moving up and down in steadying breaths as he proceeded. “I read it.”

Her first instinct was joy—pride, even. When he had crumpled the letter in his fist, she’d thought he’d never open it again, and here he was telling her he had. On his own. Her offer to be there for him while he read it dangled uselessly between them, and she had to box away the hurt so it wouldn’t touch him right now. He deserved comfort, support, not her silly disappointed feelings over being excluded.