Too fast.
Too hard.
She gasped.
I felt it immediately—the strength in my grip, the sharp inhale, the sudden stillness.
I let go like I’d been burned.
Red fingerprints bloomed on her skin.
Clear. Immediate.
My stomach dropped.
“Oh—fuck,” I said under my breath. “Sage. I didn’t mean?—”
She looked at her wrist.
Then at me.
And something shifted.
Not fear.
Not shame.
Something darker.
“Did you just grab me?” she said, voice low.
I opened my mouth?—
But she stepped into me instead, pressing her body hard against mine, mouth brushing my ear.
“See?” she whispered. “You like it when I push you.”
Her breath was warm. Sweet. Alcohol-heavy.
My pulse kicked harder despite myself.
I looked past her shoulder and caught Tony’s eye.
He didn’t look amused.
He looked tired.
Like this wasn’t shocking anymore—just uncomfortable.
Beth’s expression mirrored it. Concern edged with resignation.
That hit harder than the slap.
This wasn’t entertainment.
It was ruining the day.
Sage’s fingers curled into my shirt, nails scraping skin.
