Page 54 of Well That Happened

I’m mid-doom spiral when it happens. A stranger—tall, confident, flashing dimples and expensive cologne—slides in beside me near the kitchen.

“Hey,” he says. “You here with anyone?”

I glance up. He’s definitely hot. Sharp jaw, dark hair, built like he probably owns a gym and uses words like macros unironically.

“Technically,” I say, “I live here.”

His smile widens. “Even better. So what’s your name, gorgeous?”

“Rilee.”

He offers his hand. “Damon.”

I shake it. “Nice to meet you.”

“You always this chill at parties? You look like someone I should get to know.”

It’s not aggressive. He’s not gross. Just… persistent.

I open my mouth to say something—half snark, half smile—when I feel it.

A shift in the air.

Hunter.

He appears like a thundercloud in a black T-shirt, jaw tight, eyes locked on Damon like he’s sizing him up for a fight he didn’t know he signed up for.

“Problem here?” Hunter says, stepping between us.

Damon raises both hands. “Didn’t know she came with a bodyguard.”

“She doesn’t,” I cut in sharply, stepping around Hunter. “I’ve got it.”

Hunter doesn’t move.

“Seriously,” I add, louder now. “You can go back to sulking in the corner. I’m not your responsibility.”

His jaw ticks. “I told back up I’d look out for you.”

I step closer, eyes flashing. “Yeah? Well I didn’t ask for that.”

Hunter flinches—just slightly. “You sure about that, sweetheart?”

“I’m not some problem you have to manage, Hunter. I can handle myself. I have been handling myself. So unless you’re here to apologize or shut up, maybe sit this one out.”

Damon’s long gone by now. Doesn’t matter.

The damage is already done.

Hunter stares at me, unreadable. And then—without a word—he turns and walks away.

The tension doesn’t leave with him.

But the power shift?

That’s all mine.

I step outside to get some air, and the cold hits me hard.

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