I stood alone near the edge of the underground club, my arms folded tightly as my eyes remained fixed on the corridor Draven had disappeared into.
The music around me felt louder now.
Too loud.
My thoughts were worse.
What is he even doing in there?
My brows furrowed immediately.
Those women had practically draped themselves over him the second he appeared. Smiling. Touching. Looking at him like prey they had already decided belonged to them.
My stomach twisted unpleasantly.
"Are they touching him?" I muttered under my breath.
The thought alone irritated me.
No.
Draven wouldn't allow that.
…Would he?
I began pacing restlessly across the polished floor.
"He's still a man," I whispered defensively to myself. "Men have feelings."
A pause.
Then immediately—
"But he's also Draven."
My pace slowed slightly.
"He'll turn them down," I decided firmly. "Obviously."
Still—
the feeling in my chest refused to disappear.
That bothered me most.
Because it meant I cared.
