Awake (Book 3)

Seventeen

“Repeat it to me one more time, just to be sure.”

            I paused the make-up tutorial August let me research on his phone, flabbergasted that I actually did a genuinely fine job applying it. I righted the fancy chignon sitting atop my head, and stepped into the fancy red ball gown Jessica bought for me.

            “Ellie. I don’t hear you talking.”

            “Because you’ve made me repeat it to you fifty times already. I got it. I’m good.”

            “All it takes is one mistake.”

            Using one hand to keep the dress up, I stepped out of the bathroom and into the main area, where August sat on the bed tying his bowtie. “I know that. I think you might be freaking out a bit.”

            He snorted. “I don’t freak out. You—” his head turned and his eyes widened, and his voice trailed off. His throat bobbed. “Hot damn.”

            “What?”

            “You look—you look good.”

            Heat rose to my cheeks. “Thanks, so do you. Zip me up?”

            “Sure.”

            I turned and August stepped up behind me, hot breath washing over my exposed neck. His fingers slipped into the folds of the dress, and he tugged my back flush against his front. The breath caught in my throat. “August,” I warned.

            “Say it to me.”

            “Fine.” I craned my head back to partially see his face. “No reckless actions. Maintain constant communication. Don’t get myself killed.”

            “Good. Remember that, especially the last part.”

            “I will, Augie. Now zip me up, or we’ll be late.”

            His fingers adeptly zipped up the dress, and I spun around to face him, offering a reassuring smile. “It’ll be fine, okay?”

            He rubbed his thumb along the corner of my mouth, and then stooped over to kiss me, ignoring the lipstick. I drank him in for the few seconds it lasted, and when he pulled away, just because I wanted to keep touching him, I fidgeted with his bowtie. It was already perfect; completely straight. But that didn’t stop my nervous fingers.

            “The same applies to you, you know,” I murmured, running my palms down the crisp white dress shirt covering his chest. “You’re not allowed to die.”

            “I don’t plan on it.”

            “Good.” I stepped back, drew in a deep breath. “Ready?”

            August snatched his suit jacket draped over the edge of a chair, grabbed my hand, and we left.

~*~*~*~*~*~

The house was huge. A mansion on steroids, as August called it. Few couples strolled in, late to the party, but it seemed as if the main crowd was already inside. Two bouncers stood guard at the front doors, and a few others patrolled the grounds. We sat in August’s corvette surveying the area, coming up with a plan, which was already leaps ahead of where I would have been had I come alone.

            “There’s less coverage in the back,” August stated, and I followed his gaze passed a fence and some hedges, toward the rear of the mansion. “I’ll take out the guards back there and that’s how we’ll get in.”