*Kyan*
My mother escorts Emory into Aunt Daniel’s birthday party, and I find myself staring at him. I haven’t the foggiest idea why; there are at least two dozen young ladies my age here, all of them beautiful and eager to dance with me.
So why the hell am I staring at my male roommate from across a crowded ballroom?
I don’t know. None of this makes any sense.
I rip my eyes away from him and turn to the closest woman I can find. I don’t even bother to ask her name. “Care to dance?”
She blinks at me demurely several times before whispering, “It would be my honor, Kyan.”
Well, at least one of us knows the other’s name.
I take her out on the dance floor and begin to twirl her. The song is one I know well, and I have no problem keeping my feet in line with the rhythm, even if I’m not p
