And I followed.
Chapter twelve
Ishould’ve gone home.
That would have been the responsible thing. The smart thing. But here I was—shuffling along with the crowd, three glasses of wine and a half a cocktail deep, trailing Nat, Jae, and Andrey into a bar pulsing with bass and neon. The space was loud and full of people, the walls lined with leather booths and exposed brick. It was the kind of bar that didn’t need a big splashy sign out front, because everyone who mattered already knew it was here.
We paused near the entrance to peel off our layers, Nat and Jae shrugging out of their jackets while I slipped off my wrap and handed it to the coat-check guy with a half smile.
Earlier in the day, Jae had promised we could go somewhere quiet and not so busy, but with the buzz I was sporting, I didn’t really mind. Besides, it might give me an opportunity to catch the man whose eyes had been all over me in the restaurant. I hadn’t seen him, but I could damn well feel him watching me.
A band played from a low stage at the back, the singer’s voice raspy as he crooned something old-school and soulful. Jae went straight for the bar, dragging Andrey with him. Nat, who had a knack for claiming prime spots in any bar thanks to her years behind one, elbowed her way to a high-top near the dance floor—daring the two women who’d made a beeline for it after the lonely-looking guy bailed to just try and fight her for it. I laughed when they turned tail and ran.
I slid onto a stool and let the music wash over me as Nat disappeared into the crowd.
That was when it started again.
The feeling.
Like someone was watching me.
Not just watching. Fixated. Focused.
I scanned the room, forcing my smile to stay loose, casual. But my heart kicked up, just like earlier, when he’d been near. I could feel him. My stalker. The one with the pretty eyes and Russian cheekbones carved from stone. He was here. It was a certain kind of awareness, like how I could always feel a thunderstorm building just before the sky cracked open.
And I loved it.
The idea that someone like him—dangerous, cold, untouchable—was obsessed with me? It should’ve terrified me. And it did, a little.
But mostly?
It made me feel alive.
Jae dropped a drink in front of me—a citrus vodka something—before twirling away with Andrey. I lifted it and sipped it like I didn’t have a care in the world.
I wasn’t alone for long.
Some guy in an over-ironed shirt and strong cologne slid onto the stool beside me and asked what I was drinking. I gave him my best good-girl smile. He was cute in a frat-boy kind of way,clearly not from the city. He leaned in and brushed a lock of my hair over my shoulder, trailing his fingers down my arm. I laughed at his affection, wondering how many girls he’d made that move on tonight.
“You wanna dance?” he asked.
“Maybe,” I replied.
He held out an open hand. “Come on, let’s turn that maybe into a good time. I’m Jake, by the way, and no, I don’t work for State Farm.”
I couldn’t help but giggle at that.
Placing my hand in his, I allowed him to pull me off my stool and right into his chest. He leaned forward and whispered, “You smell nice.”
I wished I could say the same for him, but his cologne was overpowering. I eased away from his embrace. Dancing with him wasn’t exactly on my wish list, but it beat sitting alone.
What I really wanted was to see if my stalker would come out of hiding.
Nat appeared at my side just long enough to lean into my ear and whisper, “That one’s got nice hair and shoulders. You’d better go dance with him before I do.”
I laughed—loudly enough for him to hear. And that was all it took. He seized my hand and tugged me onto the dance floor.
I moved with the beat, letting the rhythm pulse through my limbs and core. Years of dance training surfaced without thought—fluid hips, steady posture, every movement controlled but effortless. My weight shifted perfectly between steps, and I guided Jake with nudges of my hand or turns of my shoulder. He wasn’t a dancer—I could tell by his nervous hesitation—but I made him look like one. The way I swayed in time with the music, the way I arched back just enough to keep it sensual without getting sloppy, it all made him bolder.
