Calmer.
Like the harbor’s trying to rinse the last hour out of my bloodstream.
Tony crushes the butt under his shoe and jerks his chin toward the door. “Ready?”
“Yeah.”
I follow him back inside like he’s a bodyguard.
Or a big brother.
Or maybe just the only person tonight who feels… safe.
The bar is louder now. Sweaty. Sticky. Packed shoulder to shoulder.
The band’s deep into a cover set. Drums rattling the windows. Bass thumping in my ribs.
And there they are.
Sage and Ethan.
Like nothing happened.
Or likeeverythinghappened.
They’re still orbiting each other—fighting, kissing, dancing, arguing mid-song, laughing too loud. It’s dizzying just watching them.
Ethan’s cheeks are flushed red. His skin tight. Eyes darker than usual.
Still pissed.
Still wired.
Still wrapped around her like gravity.
And Sage?—
God.
She’s glowing.
Laughing with the lead singer. Tossing her hair. Letting guys buy her drinks. Touching arms. Smiling like every man in the room belongs to her.
But now that I’m really watching?
It clicks.
She’s not trying to get Ethan’s attention.
She already has it.
She’s showing him something else.
Look how wanted I am.
Look how easy it would be to lose me.
If you screw up, I’m gone.
