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He hadn’t touched her. He hadn’t moved toward the stage. But I knew why the name mattered. Wren had spent years dancing in a room full of men without giving them anything she didn’t want to. Blondie belonged to the room. Wren did not.

I turned and looked at him. That was all. I didn’t stand. I didn’t speak. I didn’t move toward him. I looked at him and held his gaze.

He stopped talking. Fiddled with his phone. Then he got up and left.

Dion moved away from the wall a few seconds later and followed him outside. I stayed in my chair.

Staying seated was the right choice. It was their club, their contract and their job. If I’d got up, I wouldn’t have been a man quietly defending Wren. I’d have been a patched Venom Rider starting trouble at her workplace. By Friday, half the town would have known. Mavis would have had her license to worry about, and Wren would have been the woman whose ex caused a scene while she danced.

I turned back to Wren.

After her set, Dion came back inside and stopped at my table. “Simon’s on the door tonight, so I’m driving Wren. She said you can come with us.”

I didn’t have to be asked twice. I was waiting in the back of Dion’s car when Wren came out, her bag over her shoulder and her hair damp at the temples. She got in beside me, and Dion pulled away.

“Well?” she asked.

“Fuck, Wren. You were amazing.”

She turned toward me. “Tell me.”

“That turn with both your feet off the floor. I could see how hard your arms were working, and you landed right on the beat like it was easy.” I shook my head. “The whole room waited to see what you’d do next. You knew they would.”

She grinned. “You noticed the landing?”

“And you counting before you changed your grip.”

“You saw that?”

“I was watching you. You’re so fucking good at it, Wren. I wish I’d asked you more about dancing when we were together.”

“I missed it,” she said.

“I could tell. You smiled every time the crowd shouted. The mask hid your eyes, but I could still see how much fun you were having.” I looked at her. “I noticed the costume too. The way it caught the lights when you turned.”

“Did you?”

“Wren, I’m not dead. You looked fucking beautiful.”

She laughed and kept smiling at me. I wanted to take her hand. She was my daughter’s mom, but she wasn’t my woman anymore. I kept my hands on my knees.

I could have talked about her set all the way home. Instead, I asked, “Did you see me turn toward that man near the end?”

“Yes.”

“He used your name.”

“I didn’t hear him. I saw you turn.”

“Dion handled it. I stayed in my chair, but I turned around before I could stop myself.”

Dion said nothing from the front seat.

“It was a slip. I’m sorry. I’ll do better next time.”

“Next time?” Wren turned toward me, her knee brushing mine. “You want to come back?”

“Every Wednesday you’d have me.”