Page 72 of Bad Prince

Kane’s voice cuts through. “Stella? You out here, babe?”

I don’t move. Neither does she.

The almost-kiss from the garden still hangs between us like a live wire.

And this time, I’m not sure either of us wants to be rescued.

“I’m walking her back,” I add.

Kane’s expression shifts — not aggressive, but territorial.

“I was just about to,” he says. “Had to tell the guys something.”

The air tightens.

He and I hold eye contact.

Not loud.

Not chest-puffing.

Just understanding.

He wants to walk her home.

And maybe stay…

And I have no right to interfere.

But I’m not walking away either.

“Relax,” I say evenly. “I’m not kidnapping her.”

Kane’s jaw tics.

“Who said you were?”

Stella exhales sharply, “Jesus. I can walk myself.”

“Yeah,” we both say at the same time.

That breaks it.

She rolls her eyes.

“You two are exhausting.”

Kane smirks slightly.

“Who says I was even coming back tonight?”

He says it casually.

But it lands.

Stella’s face flushes instantly.

“What makes you think you were staying?” she shoots back.