Lily POV
This conversation felt like a dream.
Here I was standing on the steps of a formal gala, dressed in evening wear, discussing my romantic failures with the man who just yesterday had been grilling me about werewolf political history. The disconnect between Professor Morrison the academic and Nathan the well-dressed stranger was jarring.
"Where's your date?" I asked, trying to shift the subject from my failed date. "The mysterious woman your mother selected for you?"
Nathan's expression darkened slightly. "Inside, probably charming everyone within a fifty-foot radius while I take a break from playing the role of interested suitor."
There was something bitter in his tone that resonated with my own situation. "Not going well, then?"
"About as well as your evening appears to be going," he replied, glancing meaningfully at my phone again.
