He nods when our eyes meet. I nod back, heart skipping, palms clammy inside my coat pockets.
Well. Let’s do this.
I slip the coat off slowly. One of the staff takes it at once. When I look back, Flynn’s glass is frozen halfway to his lips. His eyes have widened, his jaw tight as though it locked without warning. A muscle ticks at the corner of his mouth.
Heat surges to my cheeks. My body buzzes with nerves, but my back stays straight. For once, he’s the one who looks caught off guard.
“MissAutumn.”
An older man places his hand on my lower back, and I whip around so fast I almost jump. It’s only the school director. I let out a shaky breath as he apologises and points to some patrons.
I pull my camera from my not-so-sexy bag and start shooting.
Moving carefully, I feel eyes on me. Men nodding, one even winking. I roll my eyes. I need to take these pictures quickly if I want to keep my plan together.
“Miss Autumn, you look beautiful.” Another man says, his hand resting boldly on my hip. I’m about to ask him politely to move when a massive figure steps in behind him.
“Hands off the lady.” The voice is low, gravelled, threatening enough to cut the air in half. “Or I’ll break each of your fingers with my bare hands.”
The man stiffens. I can see his throat bob as he swallows, frozen.
My eyes rise and meet Flynn’s. He isn’t even looking at the man he just threatened. His gaze is locked on me. Not my body. My eyes.
“I apologise,” the man blurts and flees.
Flynn steps forward. The space shrinks. The heat from him presses into me before he even speaks.
“Good evening.” His tone is smooth velvet, but the way it coils down my spine makes me shiver.
“Did you just threaten that guy?” I whisper.
His chest lifts on a dark chuckle. “I did.” He shrugs, his hands sliding into his pockets. Shoulders rolling wide, neck taut, a vein pulsing at his throat.
“Flynn, what if he’s someone important?” I lean in, keeping my voice low, not wanting anyone else to hear.
The right corner of his mouth lifts. “Don’t worry, trouble. No one here is more important than me.”
My brows shoot up. Bold words, considering there’s a senator across the room and the police chief’s son nearby.
“That dress.” His eyes drag down and back up. “Doesn’t look like something you would wear.”
He leans closer, and his breath warms the sensitive skin at my neck. His masculine, expensive scent, laced with smoke and leather, envelops me. My legs twitch, the urge to press them together shocking me.
“Well, tonight is special.” I turn my face, and suddenly our mouths are inches apart. My gaze drops to his lips, then slowly climbs back to his eyes. His pupils flare wide, swallowing the green. My own lips part, and I bite the bottom one gently, teasing.
“Autumn.” It’s not a word; it’s a groan, rough and broken at the edges. “What the fuck are you doing?”
I smile and step back, giving him air he doesn’t want. “Working.” I spin away, trying to hide the grin tugging at my mouth.
The high-society couples pose for each picture. They’re kinder than usual tonight. Normally I’m invisible, a shadow with a camera, but now men smile, women stare. Maybe I should dress like this more often for these gatherings.
Two hours slip by. Alcohol flows, music swells, laughter echoes. I finally have enough pictures for the school and plenty for the Senator to flaunt.
I turn, scanning for Flynn. He’s nowhere.
Shit. Don’t tell me he left.
I stride to the bar, order a whisky, and throw it back in one gulp. Fire sears my throat, and I cough, chest clenching.
