Page 68 of Gatsby's Starlet
“Yeah,” I answered automatically, my eyes still tracking the room. “Just thinking.”
“You’re always thinkin’,” he muttered, but there was a hint of curiosity under it now as he followed my line of sight for half a second before looking back at me.
I didn’t answer that.
Because something in me had already shifted, that quiet instinct that didn’t kick in unless it had a reason to, the one thatsaidpay attention, the one that had kept me alive more than once.
And it wasn’t wrong.
I grabbed Evie’s drink and headed back to her, my focus locking in the second I got close enough to see her face again, to read the small things she probably didn’t realize she was showing.
“Miss me?” I asked, keeping it light, even as I handed her the glass.
“Of course,” she said, giving me a smile.
“It’s so loud in here,” I said. “You wanna stay here a bit, or you wanna head to your place?”
Her answer came just a second too fast.
“Let’s go to your room at the clubhouse.”
That had me pausing.
Not enough for anyone else to catch, but enough that something in my head clicked into place a little harder than before.
“Yeah?” I said, watching her now, really watching her. Why the clubhouse when her place had more privacy.
“Yeah,” she repeated, her fingers tightening slightly around the glass. “I just… I don’t feel like going home tonight.”
There it was, another piece sliding into place, because earlier she’d been fine with it, no hesitation, and now something had shifted, something in this room, and I felt it land wrong in my gut as I nodded like it didn’t mean anything. “Alright… clubhouse it is.” The relief hit her face too fast, too damn obvious, and that just made it worse.
I stepped in closer, my hand coming up to her jaw, turning her face just enough so she had to look at me, and I let my thumb drag once more along her jaw before I dropped my hand, stepping back just enough to give her space again.
“Alright,” I said again, quieter this time, but there was an edge under it now, something more certain. “We’re’re gonna go somewhere you feel safe, and you can pretend all you want that nothing’s wrong.”
Her breath caught slightly at that. Good. Because I wasn’t blind. And I wasn’t letting it go.
“Let me grab my keys,” I added, already turning away before she could argue, before she could try to smooth it over again.
The door shut behind us, and just like that, the noise dropped away, leaving the room quiet in a way that felt different from the bar, different from outside, like everything that had been pressing in on us had been left on the other side of it.
For a second, neither of us moved.
I watched her, really watched her, the way her shoulders lowered just a fraction, the way she let out a breath like she hadn’t realized she’d been holding it, and something in my chest eased at the sight of it, even if the rest of me still didn’t like what had put that tension there in the first place.
“Better?” I asked, quieter now, not pushing, just checking.
She nodded, her eyes on mine, softer than they’d been all night. “Yeah… a lot better.”
I stepped closer, slow, giving her space to pull back still unsure of her mood, but she didn’t, didn’t hesitate, and when my hand came up to her jaw, my thumb brushing lightly along her skin, she leaned into it instead of away.
That was all I needed.
I kissed her slow, not driven by heat or urgency, but something easier, something that lingered, like I had nowhere else to be and no reason to rush it, and she met me just as easily, her hands coming up, settling against me.
For a while everything else faded, the tension, the questions, whatever she still wasn’t telling me, because none of it seemed to matter in there, not with her pressed against me like this, andwhen I finally pulled back it was only enough to look at her, my forehead resting lightly against hers, my thumb moving slow along her cheek.
“You’re staying tonight,” I said, not really a question.
