Page 52

“You got uncomfortable, or someone made you uncomfortable?”

He shifts closer, my hand still holding on to the door handle.

“Someone,” I murmur.

“Was it the table beside yours?”

I flip my head over my shoulder. Shock furrows my brow as I look at him with a realization.

“You’ve been watching me?”

“My eyes are only ever on you. Now answer me.”

I don’t allow myself to think for too long about what he says before nodding. His jaw ticks, his thumb on my arm stopping like a record scratch.

“I’ll be right back. The restroom is the first door on your left. Do not leave.”

The full bladder I thought was gone pushes for relief as Jett’s hand drops from my skin. His large body forces me a few steps over, and before I can ask, he’s out the door.

I’ve calmed myself by the time I finish in the bathroom. Between deep breaths and splashing cold water on my chest, the only thing that’s left is the jitter from what’s on the other side of the door.

I heard Jett come back in, which is why I stalled myself for as long as I could before exiting. Back like nothing happened, Jett sits on the brown leather couch in the center of the room. He’s got a glass tumbler full of something brown in one hand, his legs splayed wide as he sips.

His aura is different—darker.

“They won’t bother you anymore.” He looks up at me slowly, his eyes traveling up my body. The chilled water I just splashed morphs into sweat.

“What did you do?” I barely breathe out the question.

“I got security to escort them out, though I wanted to beat each of their faces in. I just didn’t want to keep you waiting too long.” His tone remains calm, though his words mimic mayhem.

Not looking at him again, I slowly inch toward the door, but the pull from inside the room makes it hard for me to leave.

His powerful presence is suffocating.

“Why didn’t someone come with you to the bathroom?” he asks, sitting up from the couch.

My head tilts. “What?”

I finally look at him. His eyes peer over the top of his glass as he takes another sip like they never strayed from me.

“Girls go to the bathroom together, don’t they? Why didn’t anyone come with you?”

I roll my eyes at that. “I’m a big girl.”

“You’re avoiding the question.”

His tone is concerned, but still holds power like it’s a demand, which makes my stomach coil in a spot down low.

“What’s it matter?” I ask with a huff.

“Your safety is the only thing that matters.”

My heart drops to my ass. I despise him, yes, but this is why. The false hope plants deep inside, because I know he means what he says. It infuriates me.

“I’m safe, aren’t I?”

My blood pumps with adrenaline, the kind I only experience when I’m sparring with him.