Just. Right.
“I’d rather not,” I said.
Mark shrugged. “Your loss. Guys like that don’t wait around.”
He melted back into the crowd, and I was alone again, heartbeat pounding in time with the bass.
Felix hadn’t stopped watching. I told myself to leave. My body didn’t listen. And when he finally set his glass down and started moving, I couldn't drag my eyes away.
He didn’t stride through the crowd so much as glide. People moved aside without being asked, the space opening around him like he belonged everywhere—and maybe he did. Then he was there, right in front of me. Close enough that his cologne hit—clean, expensive, edged with spice—and my lungs forgot what to do.
“Clayton, right?” His voice was lower up close, smooth as polished wood.
My throat locked. “Yes, sir.” For a heartbeat, I almost dropped to my knees. Panic stopped me. If I knelt and he walked away, I’d never recover.
He studied me, quiet, and I forced myself to breathe.
“I remember you from before,” he said. “You're in a relationship.”
“Was, sir.” My voice came out thin. “Not for some time.”
He let the silence stretch just long enough to make me squirm. “You’re not with anyone now.” It wasn’t a question.
I felt the heat rise in my face. “No, sir.”
He tilted his head, considering. “You should be.”
A startled laugh caught in my throat. “Why?” The word slipped out before I could stop it.Felix’s mouth twitched—not quite a smile, not quite not.
“Because it’s obvious you need it.”
I dropped my gaze. The floor blurred. Every nerve in my body was tuned to the weight of his attention, the way it crawled across my skin and left me aching for more.
“You think nobody sees you,” he murmured. “You’re wrong.”
The words landed too close. I wanted to step back or drop to my knees—anything—but I couldn’t move. My whole body was strung tight.
He leaned in, unhurried, heat rolling off him. “I noticed you last week,” he said softly. “You do good work with kids.” His eyes swept over me, precise, assessing. “But you don't know where you belong.”
I shook my head before I could think. I didn’t belong anywhere.
He hummed, a sound of quiet understanding. “You know who I am?”
“Yes, sir.”
Something flickered in his eyes—pleasure, maybe approval. “Good boy.”
The words hit like a touch. My breath caught. My hands itched to move, to twist together, but I kept them behind my back. The way I used to, when obedience had been the only thing holding me together.
“Why are you here, Clayton?”
A lie would’ve been easy. I’d had practice. But the truth was sitting right there in my chest, heavy and small. “I don’t know. My friend made me come. I shouldn’t have.”
I waited for the laugh, the brush-off. It didn’t come.
He just studied me, head tilted slightly. “You’re obedient.” Not a question.
The word loosened something in me. “Yes, sir.”
