It feels like forever, but the noise around us finally dies down. My breath, though, stays heavy, even after he pulls his hand away from my mouth, letting me breathe again.

His forehead presses against mine, his eyes squeezing shut. “You’re too sweet. I can’t do this.” He lifts me gently, moving me from the doorway before slipping out quickly, leaving me standing there, a frustrated mess of desire. Too sweet? I let out a sharp, bitter laugh. I’m furious again—ready to hunt him down and make it clear that *he* doesn’t get to decide what I want.

I step out of the stall, catching my reflection in the mirror. I look as frazzled as I feel. Shaking it off, I leave the bathroom and head for the kitchen.

Lily pops up at the kitchen entrance. “There you are! We were about to send out a search party.” She hurries over, her face shifting from playful worry to real concern. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” I say, brushing her off. I must look as rattled as I feel. I grab a bottle of champagne, ignoring her curious stare. It’s empty. “Any more bottles?” I ask, setting it down harder than I mean to. My hands are trembling.

“Yeah,” Lily says slowly, handing me a fresh one.

“Thanks.” I force a smile, but it’s tight, and she can tell. I’m still pissed, still shaken.

“You sure—”

“Lily.” I stop pouring, take a deep breath, and plaster a more convincing smile on my face. “I’m good, really.”

She nods, clearly not buying it, but helps me pour instead of pushing. “Guess we’d better get back to serving.”

“Yup.” I grab my tray, swing it onto my shoulder, and head out. “Let’s do this.” But I’m not as focused as before. My smiles are half-hearted as I offer champagne, my eyes constantly scanning the room for *him*. I dart back to the kitchen to restock quickly, barely watching where I’m going. One wrong move, and I could drop my tray again, making a fool of myself twice in one night.

But honestly? I don’t care.

I *need* to see him again. Something pulls at me, like a magnet, turning my body toward him before I even realize it.

There he is.

I freeze, tray wobbling between my shoulder and hip. He’s watching me, a glass of dark liquor at his lips—lips I almost kissed. My senses sharpen as he slowly drains the glass, wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, and sets it on Lily’s tray as she passes. Lily does a double-take, then spins, clearly looking for me. Her wide eyes flick between me and him, brimming with curiosity and a touch of worry.

He’s staring—*really* staring. The woman with him notices, turning to follow his gaze until her eyes land on me. She smirks, raising her empty champagne glass. My stomach twists.

Lily’s gone, so it’s on me to serve her. The woman wiggles her glass, a not-so-subtle nudge to hurry up. Despite her attitude, I’m too curious to ignore her. I walk over, tray steady, her smirk still in place, his eyes still locked on me. Her attempt to make me feel small is obvious, but I’m too intrigued to care.

“No rush, sweetheart,” she purrs, grabbing a glass and handing it to him. “Miller?”

“Thank you,” he says softly, taking it.

Miller. His name’s Miller. I tilt my head, and for the first time, his lips twitch into a knowing smile. If he ever fully smiled, I’d probably lose it.

“Run along now,” the woman says, turning her back and tugging Miller with her. Her rudeness doesn’t faze me, though—I’m too thrilled to know his name. I spin on my Converse, happy to walk away without looking back.

As expected, Lily’s on me the second I hit the kitchen. “Holy crap!” I flinch at her language as I set my tray down. “He was *staring* at you, Emma. Like, intense.”

“I noticed.” You’d have to be clueless not to.

“He’s with a woman, though.”

“Yeah.” I’m thrilled about his name but not so much about *her*. Not that I have any right to feel jealous. Jealous? Is that what this is? I’ve never felt it before.

“Ooh, I’m sensing something,” Lily teases, laughing as she struts out.

“Same,” I mutter to myself, glancing back at the entrance, knowing he watched me the whole way here.

I avoid him for the rest of the night, but I feel his eyes tracking me through the crowd. It’s a constant pull, and it takes everything not to look back. As much as I love getting lost in his gaze, seeing him with her could ruin it.

After saying goodbye to Del and Lily, I slip out the staff exit into the cool midnight air, heading for the Tube, ready to crash and sleep in tomorrow.

“She’s just a business associate.” His voice, soft and close, stops me in my tracks. I don’t turn around. “I know you’re curious.”

“You don’t owe me an explanation,” I say, keeping my pace steady. I know what I’m doing. He’s into me, and even if I’m new to this game, I’m not about to seem desperate—even if I kind of am. I’m smart enough to know a bad idea when I see one, and he’s standing right behind me.

My arm’s grabbed, and I’m spun around to face him. If I were stronger, I’d close my eyes to avoid his stupidly perfect face. But I’m not.

“No, I don’t owe you an explanation,” he says. “But here I am, giving one anyway.”

“Why?” I don’t pull away—his touch burns through my denim jacket, warming my skin, setting my pulse racing. I’ve never felt anything like it.

“You don’t want to get mixed up with me,” he says, but his voice wavers, like he’s not even sure he believes it. If he’s not convinced, how am I supposed to be? Part of me wants to buy it, to walk away, forget every moment with him, and go back to my steady, sensible life.

“Then let me go,” I murmur, holding his intense gaze with my own. The heavy silence stretches between us, screaming that he doesn’t want to let me go. But I make the choice for him, pulling my arm free. “Goodnight, Miller.” I take a few steps back, then turn and walk away. It’s probably the smartest thing I’ve ever done, even if most of my jumbled thoughts are begging me to chase whatever this is.