I blink. “Tonight?”
“Tonight.”
“Isn’t that—” I glance back toward the ballroom “—jumping ahead?”
“I don’t see a reason to wait.”
There’s something in the way he says it.
Simple. Direct. Certain.
No games.
No hesitation.
And, damn it all, I like it.
“Okay,” I say, before I can overthink it. “Yeah. Let’s do it.”
His mouth curves, satisfied in a way that sends heat curling low in my stomach.
We settle the tab, slipping back out into the hallway, and for a moment, it feels like we’re the only two people in the world.
His phone rings.
I see it happen in real time—the shift. The focus. The way his entire body seems to lock onto that sound like it matters.
Like itmeanssomething.
“Sorry,” he says, already pulling it out. “I need to take this.”
“Yeah, of course,” I say quickly, even though something in my chest tightens.
He answers, turning slightly away, his voice low. “Yeah.”
A pause. Then?—
“I’m on my way.”
My stomach drops.
He ends the call, turning back to me, and there’s something different in his eyes now.
Something urgent.
“I’m sorry,” he says, and he sounds like he means it. “I have to go.”
“Oh.” I try not to sound disappointed. “Everything okay?”
“It will be.” He hesitates for half a second, like he wants to say more—but doesn’t. “I’ll call you.”
There it is. The phrase I’ve heard too many times before.
“I—okay,” I say anyway.
Because what else am I supposed to say?
He steps closer, just enough that I can feel the heat of him, his gaze searching mine like he’s trying to make me understand something he’s not saying out loud.
