Kane’s voice cuts through. “Stella? You out here, babe?”
I don’t move. Neither does she.
The almost-kiss from the garden still hangs between us like a live wire.
And this time, I’m not sure either of us wants to be rescued.
“I’m walking her back,” I add.
Kane’s expression shifts — not aggressive, but territorial.
“I was just about to,” he says. “Had to tell the guys something.”
The air tightens.
He and I hold eye contact.
Not loud.
Not chest-puffing.
Just understanding.
He wants to walk her home.
And maybe stay…
And I have no right to interfere.
But I’m not walking away either.
“Relax,” I say evenly. “I’m not kidnapping her.”
Kane’s jaw tics.
“Who said you were?”
Stella exhales sharply, “Jesus. I can walk myself.”
“Yeah,” we both say at the same time.
That breaks it.
She rolls her eyes.
“You two are exhausting.”
Kane smirks slightly.
“Who says I was even coming back tonight?”
He says it casually.
But it lands.
Stella’s face flushes instantly.
“What makes you think you were staying?” she shoots back.
