Without preamble, they tug me onto the dance floor against my will and force me to join a line dance with several drunk cowboys and a bunch of women vying for their attention. When we make a full turn, I catch a glimpse of Jaxon standing with his back against the bar, looking on in amusement.
I mouth the words “help me,” but he just smirks.
“You should go home with him,” Mo shouts over the pounding of the speakers.
My eyes widen as I struggle to keep up with the steps. “Absolutely not.”
“Come on. Any woman in this bar would kill to be you right now. Some of the men, too.”
I scoff and shake my head.
“You don't believe me? Look around. They're all looking at Jaxon like they want to eat him alive.”
I scan the room, and my mood instantly sours. But when I look at Jaxon, his piercing gaze is fixed on me. If he’s noticed their attention, he hasn’t bothered to return it.
As the song shifts to a ballad, everybody pairs off. I search for an escape as the crowd closes in around me. I manage to squeeze through the haphazard pairings and make my way back to the bar, no worse for the wear, but I lose Mo somewhere in the fray.
“Thanks for nothing,” I mutter as I take my drink from Jaxon’s hand.
“What can I say? I was enjoying the view.”
I glance up at the clock on the wall and squint to bring the blurry numbers into focus. I must be drunker than I realized.It makes sense—I haven’t eaten much more than a stale granola bar and a handful of grapes leftover from yesterday’s lunch, so there’s nothing in my stomach to absorb the alcohol.
Jaxon places his now-empty glass on the bar and holds out his hand. “Ready to go?”
I nod and reluctantly slip my hand in his, ignoring the way my stomach does that annoying flutter again.I don’t think I’ll ever get used to being touched so casually.
“Come on. We’ll share an Uber so I can make sure you get home ok.” He leads me out the front door, stopping just shy of the parking lot.
I can almost feel the color draining from my face as realization dawns. “No. It’s ok. I’ll be fine on my own.”
“What kind of gentleman would let a woman go home alone in the middle of the night? I promise I’ll keep my hands to myself—unless you say otherwise.”
“I can take care of myself.” I pull out my phone and order a ride back to Willow Valley, specifically requesting a female driver, then I hold it out to show him the tracker.
He releases a ragged sigh. “Fine. Let me see your phone for a minute.”
I press it protectively against my chest.
“I’m just giving you my number.”
“Oh.” I warily place the device in the palm of his hand.
He adds his contact and hands it back to me. The name at the top of the screen reads ‘Prince Charming.’
The gall of this man. I stare at him in bewilderment. “Seriously?"
He shrugs. “Text me when you get home safe.”
Home. I wish.
Nowhere has truly felt like home—not the ramshackleapartment I ran away from, not the homeless shelters or highway underpasses, not the roadside motels, or even the apartment in Oak Ridge that went up in flames months ago. There’s never been a place for me in this world, nowhere except my library and the books I escape into every chance I get.
Not a minute too soon, my driver pulls up in a black sedan. She rolls down the passenger window. “Callie?”
Jaxon leans in and hands her a wad of cash. “Get her home safe.”
She responds with a succinct nod.
