Page 6 of His Son's Ex

There’s no lint. I’m just surviving.

“Hmm,” he says.

That’s it. Just a sound.

And somehow, it’s hotter than a full sentence.

Since when did indifference become an aphrodisiac?

He lets go of me slowly.

Too slowly.

One hand dragging from my waist, the other brushing the back of my dress.

Was that… sensual?

Was I just… handled?

I barely have time to regroup before Halsey appears.

“You okay?” she asks, eyes scanning me to make sure I didn’t break a bone.

“Yep. All good. Just temporarily airborne.”

Her gaze slides over to him, then back to me.

She raises one brow, but says nothing. Just pulls out her phone and mutters, “One sec—need to take this.”

Translation: I’m giving you a moment. Try not to combust.

She steps away.

He hasn’t moved.

“You’re still shaking,” he says with a hint of concern in his eyes.

“Yeah. Adrenaline,” I reply. “And the soul-crushing public humiliation.”

There it is—a flash of amusement in his eyes.

The corner of his mouth lifts.

His first real reaction—and it wrecks me.

God, he’s lethal.

“You want a minute?”

I nod before my brain can veto. “That would be great. Is there somewhere I can compose myself?”

He doesn’t answer—just turns, all quiet command and tailored menace.

Walks like the kind of man the world rearranges itself for.

And I follow.

Because I’m clearly making fantastic life choices today.

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