Page 12 of King

She blinked, lifting her head slightly. Only a few people remained outside, most of them men standing by the fire while sharing beers.

King was watching her, his smirk now replaced with something softer. “You’re half asleep. You can crash at my place. I’ll take the couch.”

Ella straightened slightly, shaking her head. “No, no, I’m fine. I can drive.”

King didn’t look convinced. He sighed, then reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone.

“Fine. But take my number.” He handed her his phone, watching as she typed in her number before sending herself a message. When she handed it back, he met her eyes, serious now. “Text me the moment you get home. Don’t make me come and look for you because I won’t be happy about it when I do.”

Ella’s stomach flipped.

She nodded, tucking her phone away. “I will.”

King exhaled, clearly not thrilled but letting it go.

As they reached her car, a quiet awkwardness settled between them, heavy in the cool night air.

Ella turned to him, unsure what to say. “I had a really nice time tonight.”

King didn’t reply right away. He stared at her for a long moment, something unreadable in his eyes.

Then, before she could react, he reached out, his large hand curling gently around the back of her neck.

Ella inhaled sharply, her pulse hammering as he pulled her in—not for a kiss, but a hug.

Asolid, warm, grounding hug.

His scent wrapped around her, smoky and masculine, and she melted into it, gripping the front of his shirt without thinking.

He held her for a second longer than necessary before pulling back, his thumb brushing against the side of her neck before dropping away completely.

“Drive safe, dollface.”

Ella barely managed a nod before sliding into her car, her hands shaking as she held the steering wheel.

As she pulled out of the lot, her mind raced with everything that had happened. The people, the atmosphere, theDaddycomments…

But most of all, she couldn’t stop thinking about how King had held her.

And the way shehadn’twanted to let go.

SIX

KING

King sat at the clubhouse bar, one hand wrapped around a cold beer, the other resting on his phone. The screen was dark, but that didn’t stop him from staring at it, his fingers tapping absently against the worn wooden counter.

It had been four days.

Four days since the BBQ. Since he watched Ella drive away, gripping the wheel like she was afraid of whatever the hell was developing between them. Since she’d pressed herself into his chest during that hug, soft and warm, making itso damnhard to let go.

They hadn’t texted. Not other than her sending a message to say that she’d gotten home safely and him saying goodnight.

He’d been waiting. For what, he wasn’t sure. Maybe for her to reach out first. Maybe to see if his growing feelings for her would disappear because he barely knew the woman. He couldn’t possibly have such strong emotions for her already. It was a simple infatuation. Surely if he fucked her, those feelings would disappear like they always did with other women. But Ella was Little. Undeniably Little, and the last thing he wanted to do was hurt her or lead her on.

He picked up his phone again, thumb hovering over her name in his contacts. He could text her. It wasn’t a big deal. A simple,hey, how’s it going?would do. Or maybe something playful—did you survive off candy salad for the last four days, or did you cave and eat real food?

Fucking candy salad. Only Ella would think of something like that. Brightly colored and sugary. Just like her.

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