Victor's POV

The bartender approached his face politely cool. I hardly even caught his eyes when ordering—champagne. Light stuff. That could maybe break the tension humming around the room. But when I turned back around towards Rose, the look on her face told me champagne wouldn't make this work.

Her arms were folded, the tension radiating from them, eyes set upon me the same way I'd seen them set upon me before—but this one was different. This one wasn't teasing, wasn't playing. This ...