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One pair of eyes found mine and stayed there.

Gray eyes.

Silas.

He looked just as surprised to see me as I was to see him. His expression shifted, confusion crossing his face as if he was trying to figure out whether I was actually standing there or if his mind was playing tricks on him.

He wasn’t alone either. A man sat beside him, leaning forward in his chair, the two of them deep in what looked like a serious conversation.

I swallowed. I hadn’t seen Silas in a month. I’d forgotten what it felt like to be on the receiving end of that stare—the intensity of it, the way those pale eyes seemed to strip away every excuse and every lie. When Silas looked at something he wanted, he didn’t hide it.

And right now, he was dead set on me.

I thought about the way I’d felt seeing Delane for the first time after saving her. The shock I had when she appeared at the movie theater. The pull I had towards her. The feeling that the entire world had parted to reveal that one person.

I wondered if seeing me right now had hit Silas with the same force.

“I would love to, but—” I mumbled, nearly forgetting my current suitor. My eyes still fastened on Silas, my attention never once leaving him.

“But what?” the man asked, a note of disappointment slipping into his voice.

Silas rose from his chair.

Shit.

“—but I have to leave.” I leapt to my feet. “I’m sorry.”

The man tried calling out to me, but I ignored him. Silas was already pushing through the crowd, bridging the distance between us rapidly. And the closer he got, the more panic rose in my chest.

There was no way I was ready to face Silas right now. He was the last person I got high with before everything went to shit. I was afraid that being near him again would uncover all of those unpredictable desires in myself that I couldn’t control. It was so easy to lose myself with him.

As is, I never talked with him before my rehab. I just sort of dropped off the face of the Earth. I didn’t text, and I didn’t say goodbye.

I kind of wanted to keep it that way. Distant. Cruel as it might have seemed, it was easier. Pretending I didn’t miss him was less stressful than coming to terms that I still wanted him in my life.

I glanced around the club for my escape plan. I had two choices: leave through the front door and run straight into Silas, or find my own way out.

I decided to make my own exit.

To my right I saw a back door, but it was blocked by massive groups of people dancing. I’d never get through without starting a riot. I clipped the corner of the bar, took a right, and followed some random worker through a door marked “Employees Only.”

Once inside, I hung another sharp right to avoid the worker. My goal was to just find a route that led outside. Then I would head straight home. Beyond the narrow hallway another door, I found myself in what looked like a storage room. Boxes cluttered the space, stacked almost seven feet high. The room was large, with three doors total—including the one I’d just come through—each on a different wall.

I crossed the space in a sprint, clasping my hand around the first door handle and pulled.

Locked.

“Fuck,” I muttered.

I darted to the far wall, on the other side of the room and yanked on the second handle.

Locked again.

I turned in a slow circle. There was no other way out. The only option I had left was to return back through the original door I came through.

I jogged back, aiming for the entrance. I was only a few feet away when the door started to open. I came to a sudden halt, freezing in place.

I prayed it was an employee. A bartender. Anyone who worked here. Shit, even the drunk girl from before would do.