Paige lies on her bed with her phone in her hand, texting someone, while I obsess over how I look. “Are you sure this looks okay?” I ask and spin so she gets the full effect.

“I told you,” she glances my way. “You look great. Besides, I don't know what you're so worried about. It's just an after-party. All the guys are way out of our league. We'll probably just be relaxing with the author.”

Sweeping my hair up off my neck, I cock my head to the side. It looks better down. Definitely. “I still can't believe she invited us.”

She waves her hand dismissively and keeps typing on her phone with her other one. “She probably handed out a hundred of those cards.”

“Way to ruin the moment,” I pout. Grabbing a pair of socks from the folded pile of clothes on her dresser, I throw them at her.

“Only being realistic,” she says, catching them. “We live in two different worlds, you and me.”

I place my hands on my hips. “What's that supposed to mean?”

Paige places her phone on the nightstand and sits up to give me her full attention. “I'm a realist, while you fantasize all day. You live and breathe the books you read like one day it's all going to come true and you're going to live the life of the heroine.”

“You love those books as much as I do!”

“I do, but I know where to draw the line. Sure, it's nice to escape into a good book, but when you're reading or thinking about the books you've read, nothing else exists. It’s only the books for you, Ari.”

“Sorry for getting wrapped up in the story and liking the world I get pulled into.” I can't believe she's getting on me about reading. I don’t give her grief about any of the things she loves.

“All I'm saying is don't get your hopes up for some magical party tonight. The author is a regular person, just like you and me. The models are only that—men who are on book covers, paid to model and interact with readers. They aren't really the characters.”

“Whatever.” I roll my eyes and brush her comments off. I won’t let her bring me down tonight. “Are you ready? I don't want to be late.”

She stands and shakes out her long locks with her fingers. “I'm ready. Wait, lipstick.”

I borrow one of her lip glosses and apply it. I rarely wear makeup, but tonight I put on mascara and lip gloss. My mom always tells me how naturally beautiful I am and that I don't need makeup. She said one day someone special is going to notice. I'm still waiting for that to happen.

Paige and I stand side by side in front of the full-length mirror on her closet door. We're both wearing dark jeans. I have on a black tank top with lace trimming. Paige has on a navy, sleeveless blouse. I borrowed the tank from her. Her clothes are much nicer than mine. Hell, her whole house is, for that matter.

Her parents are wealthy and rarely around. Paige does whatever she wants, whenever she wants. As long as she gets good grades, they leave her alone.

Since it's Saturday night, my parents know I'm staying at Paige's. I do almost every weekend. They trust me. I'm also not one to get into trouble. They don't need to know every time I go out. Every once in a while, Paige will lure me out. I never tell my parents. I don't want them asking a ton of questions. I don't lie. I only omit certain aspects of the weekend.

Brayden is downstairs waiting for us when we're done. “Took you two long enough,” he huffs and stands from the couch. His eyes rake over every inch of Paige's body. Lovely. I get to watch him drool over her all night. Make no mistake, I don't have any feelings for Bray outside of friendship, but it gets to be a little much how he fawns all over Paige. She’s completely oblivious to it. I've tried telling her, but she dismisses me and laughs.

“I'll drive,” Paige says.

Out in the garage, her silver BMW coupe is waiting for us. She got it for her seventeenth birthday. I received my mom's old Buick Skylark when I turned seventeen. Lucky me.

After a little over an hour of driving, we finally get close to the address Lealla had written down. The trees seem to grow taller, blocking out most of the moonlight. It's as if they are stretching before my eyes. I rub them and look again. No way did the trees move like that. This time, I see nothing but trees that aren't moving at all.

We stop when we reach two tall, stone pillars and an iron gate. Atop each pillar is a light, casting its glow over the gates and stone drive below it. The top of the gate has silver points, almost like tiny arrows pointing toward the sky. As I glance to the left, I notice the arrows running the length of the fence. I pity whoever tries to scale this thing. They'd get an arrow in an unpleasant place.

Paige rolls down her window. “Weird. There's no intercom. No button to press. How do we get in?”

“I say we don't. We turn around and go back home,” Bray states from the back seat. “This place gives me the creeps.”

“Man up,” Paige replies. “It's just trees and a fence. You aren't afraid of trees and fences, are you?”

“No, but the tall dude who just appeared from the shadows is frightening. Put it in reverse. Let's get out of here.”

I squint my eyes in the direction of Bray's gaze. Sure enough, someone is coming toward us and isn't giving off a warm and friendly vibe, thanks to his scowl and the way his fists are clenched by his side. No, this is the kind of situation where you expect to be on the evening news after all is said and done.

He stops a foot from Paige's window and bends down. His hair is cut close to his head. I don’t miss the color of it even in the dark. It's bright white. It's in stark contrast to the black clothes he's wearing. “Why are you here?” he asks in a gruff voice.

Paige speaks up before Bray or I get the chance to. “Why are you here?”

“Excuse me?”

I grip her arm. “What are you doing?” I whisper.

She shakes me off. “You heard me,” she replies. “You're out here like some kind of creeper, and you expect me to give you information. I don't think so.”

“Listen, little girl. If you want to get past those gates,” he points ahead of us, “then I'm going to need to know why you're here.”

Anger rises in her voice. “Did you just call me little girl?”

He stands and grumbles so low I can't make out what he says. I decide to speak up since Paige is getting us nowhere. “We're here for a party.” Leaning over, I hand the guy the card Lealla gave me. He glances at it, then back at us, before his eyes settle on me. From his pocket he pulls out a phone. A second later, the gates begin to open. Now we're getting somewhere.

“Follow the driveway to the right. You'll reach a large, grey stone house. That's where you need to go. Don't drive anywhere else.” I hear the warning in his tone and don't want to find out what would happen if we ignore it. Luckily, Paige stays quiet but rolls up her window as soon as the guy stops talking.

She drives ahead slowly. Little lights line either side of the light grey pavers, which make up the drive. “Who did that guy think he was? Little girl. He's lucky I didn't get out of the car and knee him right in the crotch.”

“I'm glad you didn't act on that,” I say. “He looked like he could do some serious damage, given the size of him.”

“Oh, please. Every guy has the same weak point—right between the legs. Tall or short. Thin or stocky. They all go down when you knee them in the junk.”

I glance out the window of the car. The trees are thinning. Moonlight begins to filter through. The house comes into view. If you could even call it that. Grey stone, three stories as long as four ranch homes combined. It's huge.

Paige parks near the front door on the semicircle drive. A slender man in a tuxedo gives her a small, white ticket with a number on it as she exits the car. As soon as we're all out, he drives the car out of sight. Let's hope we make it out of here alive and get her car back. Although, if I'm listening to my gut, I need to relax a little. No alarms are going off in my body. Only butterflies in my stomach from the anticipation of what is behind the emerald green, double doors in front of us.

One of the doors swings in wide before we have a chance to knock. Another man in a tux is inside, holding it open for us. He sweeps his arm out to welcome us in. After thanking him, he asks us to follow him. We walk through the open entryway with its beige marble floor and stairs that curve down on either side of a massive crystal chandelier. I've never seen a house so grand. Even the stairs are marble.

We turn left and pass a kitchen, but we move at such a clip I can't make out anything about it, outside of ivory cabinets. The sounds of food being stirred and lids being placed on pots filters to me as we walk past. The aroma stays with me. Rich, hearty fragrances like my mom's beef stew, but better, have me faltering in my steps as I pull the scent in. It smells like home.

Then it's the bass thumping loudly that draws my attention while it begins to vibrate through my body as we get closer to where the party must be going on. The farther we walk down the hall, the louder the music gets. I lose count of how many closed doors we walk by before we reach a massive ballroom. It rivals the size of the room we were in for the signing.

Strobe lights bounce off the walls as bodies dance to the beat. There's a DJ on a raised stage at one end of the room. A bartender isn't far from him, tossing bottles in the air and easily catching them as he makes drinks. The dance floor is packed. So many men and women. Some men are shirtless, while others are not. I can tell the women love every second of the ones without their shirts on, as some skate their hands up and down the bare chests of the men they’re dancing with. I've never seen anything like it. Then again, I don't exactly get out much.

The man who escorted us points to the far wall, where Lealla is talking with a small group of two men and two women. I recognize the men as models from covers of her series. They each have their arms protectively looped around one of the women's backs beside them. We thank the man and make our way through the crowd toward Lealla. Paige's hand slips into mine as we weave through the room. She’s smarter than me. With all the hot men in here, my brain checked out and was focused on them, not losing my friends in the chaos of the party. I hope she has a hold of Bray’s hand as well.

When we finally reach Lealla, we stand just outside the small circle of people talking with her. I want to offer my thanks for inviting us, but she's in the middle of a conversation and I don't want to interrupt. Instead, I hang back with my friends.

We each lean on the wall to take in the people here. I hadn't noticed until now, but everyone seems older than us. Early twenties through their early forties, if I had to guess. I'm not the best judge of age. If I'm right, however, we are the youngest people in the room. I try to see if I can find any other readers here, but all I see are couples dancing, talking, and drinking. And they all look at home. Not on the sidelines like us. I wish there were more people our age here. It would help me relax a little. Maybe coming tonight wasn't the best idea.

I hear my name called over the music. Turning to my right, I see Lealla waving for us to join her group. We push from the wall and join her as they part to make room for us. “I'm so glad you could make it,” she says with a smile. “How do you like the party so far?”

“It's a little overwhelming,” I reply and duck my head in embarrassment. I shouldn’t have said that. I really need to think before I speak. Here I am, standing with people I don't even know, and I feel like a lost child.

“Yes, it can be. Once you've been here for a while, you tend to block out most of the noise. My guys love the music, though. It gives them a chance to let loose and have fun with their mates.”

My head snaps up. “Mates?”

She waves dismissively. “Girlfriends and wives, I mean. I get so wrapped up in my own world sometimes that I use terminology from my books.”

I smile. “I can understand that.”

She peers over my head and waves someone over. “I want to introduce you to my newest Avynwood model. He'll be on the cover of an upcoming book. At nineteen, he’s my youngest model yet, but he's perfect for the story.” Avynwood is the name of a forest about four hours from here. Lealla titled her series and pack after it. When I first read the books, I did some research. There are some crazy tales about what took place there.

When I turn in the direction she's looking, all the breath leaves my lungs in a silent whoosh. Walking toward us is hands down the hottest guy I've ever seen, and that's saying a lot, considering my current environment. He's wearing a shirt, thankfully. If not, I'd probably lose all capability to speak. The shirt he's wearing clings to him like a second skin, showcasing his muscular arms. He's lean, not broad. His dark hair is neatly combed back from his face. It's hard to tell the exact color in the semi-dark room, especially with the lights bouncing around.

Jeans slung low on his hips pull me to the way he walks. With every step, his body moves and flexes with the grace of a predator. Each step is exact and full of purpose. When my eyes finally make their way up to his face, I expect a cocky grin from him realizing I was checking him out, but what I get is a smile and dimples. Dimples!

He stops mere inches from me. There's a good six-inch difference in our height. And this close, I notice the crystal blue color of his eyes. My lips part, but no words form, not even a sound. His eyes drop to my mouth as the color of those beautiful eyes flash briefly from blue to a deeper hue that’s hard to make out in the darkened room. I blink a few times. His eyes are blue. It must have been the lights playing tricks on me.

Lealla steps forward and places her hand on his shoulder. “Ariane, I'd like to introduce you to Orion.”

I can't help the laugh that bursts from me. “Orion? That's seriously your name?”

He crosses his arms over his chest, his biceps bulging. “Yes, little mouse, it is.” I can't place his accent. Something exotic and unlike anything I've ever heard before. The way he accentuated the t's in little—it's very sexy. Wait. Did he just call me a mouse?