CELINE’S POV-


    I stay there longer than I should. Leaning against the cold wall like it’s the only thing keeping me upright. It isn’t, but it feels that way.


    I don’t trust my legs.


    I don’t trust myself.


    And I sure as hell don’t trust the man I just left standing in the middle of the ballroom like he didn’t just ruin everything was trying to hold together.


    I inhale through my nose, slow. Like if I take the breath carefully enough, it’ll stretch my ribs wider. Make me feel like there’s room to breathe again.


    But there isn’t.


    Not here.


    Not with the sounds of music and voices bleeding through the doorway behind me. Not with Nathaniel’s voice echoing inside my head.


    “Interesting. He didn’t deny it.”


    I close my eyes. And I hate myself. Because part of me… The stupid, dangerous part of me… Wishes it was true.


    I hear footsteps before I see him. Sharp. Measured. A beat that demands attention. Even the floor seems to straighten under his weight.


    I don’t look. I don’t have to. I know it’s him.


    “Why are you hiding?” His voice cuts through the stillness. Low. Controlled. Like he already knows the answer, but he’s going to make me say it.


    I don’t answer. Because if I open my mouth, I don’t think I’ll be able to keep it together. And falling apart in front of him-again-isn’t something I’m prepared for.


    Not after everything. Not after that dance. <fnf20b> Follow current nov?ls on f?i?n?d?n?o?v?e?l?</fnf20b>


    He steps closer. The air shifts around me. Thickens. Suddenly the cold wall behind me isn’t cold enough.


    “I asked you a question.” His tone sharpens. Like a warning. Like aline in the sand.


    I swallow, but it’s pointless. My throat’s dry. My lips crack when I speak. “I wasn’t hiding.”


    A lie. A stupid, obvious lie. But I offer it anyway. Heughs. A single, humorless exhale. It scrapes something raw inside me.


    “Then what were you doing?” I turn to look at him, because not looking at him doesn’t make him less dangerous.


    His blue eyes are darker in the dim light. His jaw clenched so tight it looks painful. I force my hands behind my back so he can’t see how they shake.


    “Trying to breathe,” I admit quietly.


    It’s not the full truth, but it’s the part I can give him. He watches me for a beat. Two. And then his gaze drops. To my mouth. I feel his attention there like a


    touch.


    Like pressure. My stomach twists.


    “Did he hurt you?” The question is so abrupt it almost knocks me off bnce, It takes me a second to realize who he means.


    Nathaniel.


    No My voice is steady, even though my heart isn’t. “No, he didn’t. He just…”


    Overstepped,” Hunter finishes for me, his mouth tight. It’s not a question. It’s a fact. One he doesn’t like.


    I nod. Because it’s easier than exining how small I felt when Nathaniel’s hand wrapped around my wrist. How trapped. How exposed


    Hunter steps closer. Too close. I can feel his


    Cat. I can smell him again-whiskey, leather, something sharper beneath it.


    I press back into the wall without meaning to.


    But he’s already there. A handnds beside my head, his palm t against the wall. Caging me. Not rough. But not gentle, either.


    “You should’ve told me,” he says, his voice low.


    Like a secret. Like a threat. I shake my head. “I handled it.”


    Another lie. And we both know it. His eyes search mine. or what, I don’t know.


    Permission, maybe. To be the man I’m realizing he’s been


    & not to be around me.


    The man who takes. The man who owns. The man who never asks. But then he surprises me. He exhales, slowly. And steps back.


    Not far. Just enough to give me space to breathe. Barely. “I didn’t deny it,” he says suddenly.


    It’s not a question. It’s not even an admission. It’s just… there.


    Hanging between us. My pulse stumbles. I bite the inside of


    “You didn’t have to,” I whisper.


    my cheek.


    He tilts his head. “Do you want me to?” I blink. What? “Deny it?”


    He nods once.


    As if he’s patient. As if he’s not a storm held together by threads. I look down. At my hands. His hand was still braced on the wall.


    I’m not sure where this is going.


    But I know where it shouldn’t go. And that’s exactly where we’re standing. “It doesn’t matter what I want,” I say quietly.


    But it does. We both know it does.


    His hand drops from the wall. But only so he can catch my chin between his fingers, tilting my face up. His thumb brushes my lower lip.


    1stop breathing.


    “It matters,” he says. And he’s so close I can feel the words against my skin. “More than you think.”


    I should move. I should push him away. But my feet stay where they are. And my body leans in. Just enough. Just barely.


    He exhales again. A sound of restraint. Of frustration. Like holding back is costing him something. “Tell me no,” he murmurs.


    And he means it.


    I can tell. I part my lips. But nothinges out. Because I don’t want to say no. And he knows it. For one long, suspended moment, we just… stay.


    His thumb was still on my lip. His breath still mingled with mine.


    Then- “Hunter.” Caroline’s voice cuts through the hallway like a knife. He drops his hand, but slowly.


    11:03 Tue, 29 Jul G M


    GM


    Deliberately. Like he wants me to remember exactly where it was. And exactly how it felt. I step back. Or maybe he steps forward. I can’t tell anymore. I just know there’s space between us again. But not enough.


    He nces over his shoulder toward Caroline’s voice. And then back at me.


    “Later,” he says.


    Like a promise. Like a warning.


    And then he’s gone. Leaving me with a heartbeat I can’t slow down. And a mouth that still remembers the weight of his thumb,


    Α’


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