The way he looked at me before he left.The way hekissedme like he meant it.Like he wanted it just as much as I did.
Lily softens.“It’s okay to say yes, you know.”
My throat is dry.I manage, barely above a whisper, “I don’t know what to do with it.”
She nods, like she was expecting that.“That’s fine.You don’t have todoanything yet.But youdohave to let yourselffeelit.”
I stare at her, something sharp catching in my ribs.
She keeps going, relentless in that way she always is when she’s fighting for me.“You’ve spentyearsconvincing yourself that Joel was this off-limits, self-centered asshole, but guess what?You’re here.You are literally about to walk into this club because youwantto.That’s growth, Anna.”
I swallow hard.
Lily reaches for my hand, squeezing it tight.“Don’t run from it, babe.Just… let yourself have this moment.Let yourselfwanthim.See where it leads.At least then you’ll know.”
I let out a slow, shuddering breath.
And for once—for once—I don’t argue.
I just nod.
Lily beams.“Good girl.Now, let’s go be hot and mysterious.”
I snort a laugh and she unlocks the doors.
* * *
Nocté is packed.
The second we step inside, the heat, the bass, the press of bodies—it all slams into me at once.
The air is thick with sweat and cheap beer, sticky and humid in a way that should make me want to bolt.But I barely notice because the energy in the room shifts.
I can’t explain it, but suddenly, everything feels heavier—like the air itself is thick with something I can’t quite place.My chest tightens, my breath catches, and then?—
I hear him.
His voice filters through the speakers, low and rough and so painfully familiar that I feel it in mybones.
Lily stops walking.“Oh,shit.”
I don’t move.I don’t breathe.I juststand there.
And then?—
The second I see him, my breath goesnowhere.
He’s lost in it.Completely, utterly lost.His hair is a mess, his black T-shirt clings to his frame, the sleeves tight around his tattooed biceps as he grips his guitar like it’s the only thing keeping him tethered.
He’s always been beautiful.
But this?—
This issomething else.
He’s got the whole crowd in the palm of his hand, his voice weaving through the space like a slow, steady fire, wrapping around the room—aroundme.
I forgot what this feels like.