His eyes are on me. Only me. It’s that same predatory look he had in the hotel room before he walked out. The one I’ve been actively tryingnotto think about. His blue eyes are dark, shadowed, and so intensely hungry they turn my lungs to lead.
I watch his fingers flex around the casing of his camera. It’s a small, rhythmic squeeze, barely noticeable, but my body reacts like it’s been waiting.
A slow, dangerous pull settles in my stomach.
I’m caught in the suffocating undertow of his stare. I should look away. I should move. My mind unspools into memories of his hands on me.
What would it feel like if he really touched me? Not just a brush of skin, but everywhere.
I catch myself.Stop being so pathetic. You’re reading into that squeeze. He’s probably thinking about aperture settings, or more likely, how much he hates your guts.
Delusional or not, I can’t stop looking back. His gaze carries a thread of tension that’s about to snap, and I’m trying to convince myself thatthose eyes aren’t tracking the line of my throat.
My mind is quietly unraveling. Heat coils low and tight in my belly, a slow-burn pressure that makes my breath hitch. Then, he drags his tongue over his bottom lip, and I don’t just see it.
I feel it.
And then—
The doors burst open, camera flashes ignite, and in struts Blaze Tate. White tux. Top buttons undone. A woman on each arm. The wave of relief that crashes over me is almost shameful.
Bless you, Blaze.
I’m not even irritated he’s late. He’s saved me from my own body’s betrayal, or worse, my brain’s dangerous fantasies.
“Dr. O!” Blaze bellows, steering his entourage as he goes. Passing the sea lion statue, he shoots out a hand and slaps a big high-five on its fin like they’re old buddies, never breaking stride. He deposits the women at the bar with Orson, who’s gripping a glass of water like it’s the only stable object in the universe.
Blaze claps him on the shoulder. “My dude! My main man! These ladies are missing out on your epicness. Let’s fix that, yeah?”
Orson blinks at them. “I study pinnipeds.”
“See? TOLD YA! He’s smart as shit.” Blaze slams him with a bro-hug. “Total fucking package, am I right?!”
The women move closer, and Orson’s left eye twitches like it’s trying to escape his face.
I’m in motion, mic pack in hand, pushing through the crowd before Blaze can get away.
I grab his elbow. “I need two minutes.”
“Ivy.” He lights up. “Yo, you look INSANE tonight. Like, ‘damn’ insane!”
“Thank you, I—”
“Starting the pre-show meeting without me, Stopwatch?”
I close my eyes. Breathe in.
Fucking Cole.
“I’m wiring our talent,” I say without turning around.
“I’ve got it,” Cole says, stepping closer. “Hand me the pack.”
I pivot automatically. “I’m already doing it.”
“And now you’re not.” He plucks it from my grip, grinning.
I growl and snatch it back. “Touch it again. I dare you.”
