Hailey
I can feel Marcus's gaze burning into my back as Josh pulls me closer on the dance floor. The music throbs around us, but all I can think about is Marcus's proposition, his audacity, the way he looked at me like I was just another conquest.
"You okay?" Josh asks, his voice low in my ear. "You seem anxious."
I force a smile. "I'm fine."
Josh glances over my shoulder, his jaw tightening. "What did he say to you?"
"Nothing worth repeating." I press closer to Josh, trying to lose myself in his warmth, in the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against my palm.
Josh studies my face for a moment, then nods, though I can tell he's not convinced. His hand slides to the small of my back, protective, possessive in a way that should bother me but doesn't.
"Want to get out of here?" he suggests. "We could grab a late dinner somewhere quieter."
The thought is tempting—escaping the pulsing lights, the watchful eyes, Marcus's calculated stare. But running feels like letting him win.
