The group gave a collective shrug and went back to their conversation.
“It’s like I told her: if you lie with wolves, you’ll get fleas.”
“Or have puppies.”
They broke out in alcohol-thickened chortles.
I glanced at Kyle and slipped my hand into his. His expression was studiously blank, and his hand felt hard and unyielding, almost as though metal ran beneath his skin.
“Are you okay?” I whispered.
“Why wouldn’t I be?” He slid his hand out from mine and turned. “We’ll have to take the back stairs and go through the kitchen.”
I watched his retreating form for a moment. I wanted to tell him that I was sorry, but I didn’t know how. There would always be men like that; there would always be people who hated and feared Kyle for something that wasn’t his fault. Any apology I gave would be useless and inadequate.
In the end, I said nothing and trailed him down the hall.
The back stairs were located behind a door that had been cleverly camouflaged to look like part of the wall. A casual visitor would walk right past it, but Kyle and I were not casual visitors. He pulled it open and held it for me as I stepped through.
The narrow passage was just wide enough for one person. Bare lightbulbs hung from the ceiling at regular intervals, but they didn’t do much to dispel the gloom. The space had been a servants’ stairway when the house had first been built, and no one had ever tried to make it look anything other than plain and functional.
The din of clanking dishes and the shouts of caterers drifted up from the kitchen below, more than masking the noise my heels made on the wooden steps.
Kyle put a hand on my shoulder when we were halfway to the first floor. “Mac, hold on a sec . . .”
I paused and turned. I was standing two steps below, and even with the advantage of heels, the difference in positions accentuated Kyle’s height. I looked up into his eyes and saw that same blend of darkness and uncertainty I had noticed moments before.
He ran a hand through his hair. “Did something happen between you and Jason. Back at Thornhill? Or in Denver?”
My heart skipped a beat and the hand I placed on the railing to steady myself shook slightly. “Why would you ask that?” There was a catch in my voice, one that I hoped sounded more disbelieving than defensive.
“The two of you have been avoiding each other since we got back from the camp. And earlier—up in Jason’s room—it felt like I walked in on something.”
“You didn’t.”
Kyle stepped down a stair, closing some of the distance and making it easier to meet his gaze. “I’m used to the way Jason stares at you—I don’t like it, but I’m used to it—but there was something in the way you were looking back. It was like there was a charge in the room.”
I hesitated. In a way, telling Kyle about the kiss would be easy. I knew he would eventually forgive me and I could stop feeling like I was keeping something from him. I could stop feeling guilty and I could stop worrying that someday, somehow, Kyle would find out about what had happened in the town car.
But while I was certain Kyle would forgive me, I wasn’t so sure he would forgive Jason. I wanted to believe their friendship was stronger than the feelings each of them had for me, but I had seen enough talk shows and movies to be scared to put that to the test.
All I knew was that I couldn’t be the thing that came between them—not permanently. I would never forgive myself, and in the end, they would both end up resenting me.
Besides, what had happened with Jason would never happen again. It had been a mistake. I had chosen Kyle. I would always choose Kyle.
He was staring at me, waiting for an answer.
I reached up and placed a hand against Kyle’s neck. I could feel his pulse jump under my palm, his heart beating so much faster than mine. “I tore down an entire prison to get back to you,” I said, throat tight. “There will never be anyone else for me.”
I met Kyle’s gaze and held it, letting the depth of the feelings I had for him flood my eyes.
After a long moment, he nodded. Leaning down, he folded me into a hug.
14
AN ARMY OF CATERING STAFF FILLED THE WALSHES’ CAVERNOUS kitchen as trays of food and drinks came and went with the precision of a military operation.
Kyle and I tried not to get trampled as we made our way to the open door at the far end of the room. A trickle of perspiration ran down the back of my neck, and I wondered how it was possible for all of the waitstaff to look freshly pressed when the room had to be 110 degrees.
“We need more champagne. There should be at least two more cases.”
I shot a startled glance over my shoulder. Amy’s mother stood ten feet away, her face slightly flushed as she consulted with one of the caterers. She should have been in her element—Mrs. Walsh had always lived for throwing parties—but there was a tightness around her eyes and mouth. She looked pinched and spread thin.
Blushing, I thought about what Kyle and I had seen and heard upstairs. Amy’s parents had always seemed happy—well, as happy as anyone. I knew there were a lot of reasons people cheated, but looking at Mrs. Walsh, I couldn’t think of a single excuse that would be good enough.
She half turned in our direction and my heart lurched. Don’t look this way. Don’t look this way. I repeated the words under my breath as Kyle and I quickly crossed the rest of the kitchen.
I didn’t think Amy’s mother would throw us out, but she would definitely wonder what we were doing here. She would ask questions and maybe tell Amy’s father—or Stephen—that she had seen us.
It was as though my thoughts had some sort of strange, summoning power.
“Stephen! Where have you been?” Mrs. Walsh’s voice rang across the room. I looked back just in time to catch a glimpse of a blond head as Amy’s brother ducked through a door that led to the sprawling backyard.
Mrs. Walsh called after her son a second time, but he was already gone.
“Because that’s not at all suspicious,” I said.
“He’s bleeding. I can smell it over the scent of the food.”
I resisted the urge to say eww. Werewolf supersenses were handy, but there were times when they walked the line between beneficial and kinda gross.
“Come on,” said Kyle, starting after him.
I caught his hand. “Wait—” The longer we stayed at the party, the more we were pressing our luck. “You go after Stephen. I’ll find Jason and we’ll check the study.”