My skin felt too tight. My heart was racing for reasons that had nothing to do with the tequila. This was insane. He was just some guy at a club, and plenty of guys had staredat me before.
Except no one had ever looked at me like that. Like I was already his and he was just waiting for me to figure it out.
I found a quieter corner near the back hallway, away from the main dance floor, and tried to catch my breath. This was supposed to be fun. Liberating. Instead I felt like prey being circled by a wolf.
"You look lost."
The voice came from right behind me and I spun so fast I nearly tripped over my own feet.
He'd materialized out of nowhere. Up close, he was even more devastating. Those eyes weren't brown—they were so dark they were almost black, and the way he looked at me made every rational thought evacuate my brain.
"I'm not lost." My voice came out steadier than I felt. Small victories.
"No?" He tilted his head, studying me like I was a puzzle he was solving. "You've been wandering around for the past fifteen minutes like you're trying to find something."
"Maybe I'm trying to avoid something."
His smile widened, sharp and knowing. "Smart girl."
The way he said it made my stomach flip. Not condescending. Almost... approving.
"You don't belong here," he continued, moving slightly closer. Not crowding me, but deliberate. Intentional. "This place. These people."
Indignation flared. "And you're basing that on what? My face?"
"Everything." His eyes traveled over me slowly. "The way you've been analyzing everyone in this room like you're cataloging threats. The way you flinched when that couple started arguing. The way you're still holding that empty shot glass like it's a shield."
I looked down. I was still clutching the stupid glass. I set it on a nearby table, annoyed that he was right.
"Have you been stalking me?"
"Watching you. There's a difference."
"That's not better!"
"I know." He didn't sound remotely sorry. "But I stopped pretending to be better than I am a long time ago."
Something about the way he said it—casual, honest, unapologetic—made my pulse jump.
"So you just... watch women without their permission?"
"Just you." His gaze locked onto mine. "And you noticed. Which means you've been watching me too."
I had. God, I'd been hyperaware of exactly where he was since the second I felt his stare.
"That doesn't mean anything."
"Doesn't it?" He took another step closer. I should have moved back. Should have put distance between us. But my feet wouldn't cooperate. "You look too innocent to be in a club like this."
I bristled. "That's incredibly presumptuous."
"It's a compliment."
"So you're not innocent? That's why you're here?"
His laugh was low and dangerous. "Not by a long shot. But for you, I could pretend to be."
Heat crawled up my neck. "Does that line usually work for you?"
