Lost In Us (Lost 1)

I unhitch myself from the door and put the mask on just as the hyenas burst out of the room. They, too, are wearing masks.

"There you are," Sophie giggles. "We were afraid we lost you."

The lark opens a door to a hall that looks as long as this one and the four of them walk inside. Sophie steps on her own dress and stumbles forward, nearly knocking the other girls over. As she bursts into yet another torrent of giggles, under the disdainful look of the lark, I make a mental note to get lost among the other guests as fast as possible.

"Wow," I exclaim for the third time tonight when we enter the ballroom.

A high glass arch spans above us, contrasting with the house’s cubic form. It also contrasts with the classical dresses and tuxedos in a whimsical, almost eerie way. There must be more than a hundred people here, not including the orchestra. Finding Dani among the sea of masked men and women won't be an easy task, though there aren't many white dresses in sight. I step away from the hyenas as fast as possible, hoping the mask on my face and the champagne in their blood are a good enough camouflage.

I stand on my toes and try to spot Dani in the crowd, something that becomes increasingly difficult because everyone is regrouping along the edges of the dance floor. I give up trying to advance when I'm so squeezed in between a middle-aged couple that I can barely breathe. The woman must have spilled an entire bottle of a nauseating sweet perfume on herself.

"Red suits you," a voice calls behind me. I'm suddenly very grateful for being squeezed in, because my knees seem to have turned to rubber. But my relief only lasts for a few seconds, because the music starts and everyone around me disperses, moving to the dance floor.

I don't fall. I can't move, either.

When he finally comes into view, my breath is cut short. There is something about seeing his beautiful blue eyes behind a mask that makes every inch of my skin burn.

So it wasn't the tequila last night.

"Dance?" He extends his hand.

"I can't dance." Out of the corner of my eye I see Sophie watching us, crestfallen.

"That makes two of us," he says, though unlike me, he doesn't sound panicked in the slightest. I really can't dance. Especially not waltz. But he doesn't lower his hand, and instead of protesting further, I raise my hand and place it in his. As if in slow motion I see him putting his

other arm around my waist, and pulling me so close to him that I feel his every breath against my skin. This doesn't help the burning sensation. At all.

"You came," he says and his lips curve into last night’s same conceited smile.

"I make a habit of honoring my invitations," I say, surprised by how aggressive I sound. I bite my lip and look away, fixing my gaze on the highest point of the glass arch.

"Did you and your friend arrive home safely last night?"

Small talk. Fantastic.

"If safely includes Jess throwing up twice on the way home, then yes."

"Quite a party girl, your friend," he says appreciatively.

"What makes you think I'm not one?" I regret the question instantly. Thinking that a former math whiz kid isn't the most hardcore party girl at Stanford is not an absurd conclusion to draw. But his answer takes me by complete surprise.

"Having a steady boyfriend usually means you spend your free evenings and weekends… otherwise."

"You asked Dani to spy on me?"

"Of course not," he says with fake affronting. "I just know how to get the info I need from her."

"What happened to old-fashioned questioning?"

"It's old-fashioned," he answers with a smirk. "I like to consider myself modern."

"Make that lazy and sneaky." I finally unhitch my gaze from the ceiling and look him in the eyes again. They are so much darker than a few minutes ago.

He tightens his grip on my waist. "Fine. Tell me three things about you."

I try to put on my most serious look. "I grew up in London and San Francisco, used to play volleyball in a minor league, and want to work in investment banking." Did he really think I'll make it easy for him?

"Let me rephrase," he smirks. "Tell me three things about you I won't find in your CV. Three dreams."