Chase pulls his suit jacket off and drapes it over my shoulders. “We’re leaving.” He wraps his fingers around my wrist, but when he tugs on it, I pull back. He makes a grab for me, and I know he’s going to try and pick me up. I wiggle away the best I can.

“My stuff. I need it.” He takes a slow controlled breath.

“Where?”

When I point to the dressing room, he keeps me close as he leads me toward it. A few of the girls glance our way as we go. I can’t help but peek over at ...