The bass from the dance floor pulsed through the wall—deep, slow vibrations rolling up my spine—but it felt miles away. Like the whole club had sunk underwater, muffled and blurred, leaving only the two of us breathing in the same tiny pocket of air.
“Seriously?” The loud voice registered somewhere in the back of my brain—but not enough to pull me out of him.
“Sebastian!”
That one did. Him. Not me. The second he tore his mouth from mine, I was already leaning in again, chasing him like a fucking maniac.
“For fuck’s sake, help me unglue them,” Henry grumbled, presumably to someone else.
“Not yet,” I said, grabbing the back of Sebastian’s neck and pulling him down to my mouth again. He actually responded for a second before a hand planted itself on my chest—firm, unrelenting—and pushed me back against the wall.
But it wasn’t his.
I blinked slowly, finally focusing on Henry’s very unimpressed face.
“Will you calm the fuck down?” he said, then flicked his gaze to his brother. “And are you two aware you’re making out in a literal open corridor? While everyone—including your boyfriend—is out there and could walk past whenever?”
That word—boyfriend—hit like someone had tossed cold water over both of us.
Our eyes met again, and guilt shot across his expression.
Sebastian exhaled hard, face scrunching like reality had just caught up. “Fuck,” he breathed, rubbing a hand over his face before taking a step back.
But this is mine. He was mine first.
Immature? Yeah. Probably. But he was supposed to bewith me, not him. It wasn’t fucking fair. He clearly wanted me too.
“Now,” Henry said, snapping the moment in half, “do I need to ice you, or are you good to walk out of here?”
Sebastian nodded once and took a couple more steps back.
That’s when I noticed Mateo standing nearby, watching all of this unfold. He gave me an apologetic little smile and a look that carried just a hint of pity. A quietYou know this is a mess, even though he didn’t say it.
I swallowed hard, the heat of Sebastian’s mouth still buzzing under my skin.
Henry sighed. “Let’s go.”
Sebastian didn’t look at me again—I caught the moment he almost did, then forced himself not to.
But I couldn’t look away.
And that was how we walked out of the corridor—him pretending nothing had happened, and me still trying to remember how to breathe.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
ASH
Fuck.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fucking fuck fuck.
FUCK.
What the hell was that, Sebastian?
Where did control go, huh?
How did you just… lose it like that?
