Page 62 of Stardusted
I gawked.
Sky was here. Sky was at Crescent.
I managed to find my voice, though it came out squeaky. “How is it alwaysyou?”
Chapter 17
WHAT IS THIS, A STALKER ROMANCE?
Skydidn’t react to my weird-as-hell question. He didn’t look at me, either.
He did, however, squeeze my side, which obliterated any coherent thoughts like he’d reset my brain. His arm was a warm band—not quite possessive, but definitely a little protective.
I didn’t know what was more shocking: his sudden appearance or the hard, unreadable look on his face. His calm, laid-back persona wasn’t in the room with us. Instead, something stormy lurked in his eyes as he stared down the smaller man. That looked a lot like temper.
I stood rooted in place like I’d been superglued there.
Meanwhile, the drunk jerk blinked at him, swaying slightly. “Wait, is this your boyfriend? You didn’t tell me you had aboyfriend.”
It was enough to rouse me from my stupor. I turned a glare on him and opened my mouth to deny it, to tell him a girl shouldn’t need a boyfriend for him to grasp the wordno. But Sky beat me to it.
“It doesn’t matter who I am.” His voice stayed level, but there was steel underneath. “This is your cue to get out of here. The lady isn’t interested.”
The guy glanced blearily from Sky to me, like he was weighing his odds. Spoiler alert: they weren’t good. Sky had a good six inches on him, at least twice the shoulder width, and a sense of equilibrium. Not a fight Whiskey Breath would win.
He was apparently sober enough to realize it, too, because he shrugged, muttering, “Whatever.”
And he left.
I watched him stagger away, heart racing. The relief was short-lived, though.
Despite every cell screaming at me to snuggle right in, I stepped out of Sky’s embrace and pivoted to face him. The small crowd of onlookers who’d been watching the exchange went right back to dancing. The movement and music swallowed the moment, like it had never happened.
I stared up at my bartender crush. Who was suspiciously good at being in the right place at the right time lately.
Or the wrong one. Depending on how you looked at it.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, raising my voice over the bass-heavy beat.
He tracked the drunk guy’s retreat for a second longer before turning back. His ocean eyes moved over me. Flustered, I looked away, massaging the wrist still smarting from that asshole’s iron grip.
“Are you okay?” Sky asked tightly.
I raised my gaze back to his. He was watching me rub the tender skin, expression stormy.
Was Iokay? What a loaded question, considering the state of my life these last few days. I almost laughed but managed to nod instead, letting my hand fall back to my side. Only then did I remember it was the same one with the alien tattoo. I made aloose fist around it. Not that I needed to worry. It was too dark to see anything?—
I forgot I even had hands when Sky stepped closer.
The smallest shift, but it was enough.
He was so much taller than me. I was eye level with his chin. His shoulders. His black Henley clung to his tapered chest and outlined all those muscles beneath. How was this man so well-shaped?—
His chest shook, and I blinked. It took me a second to register his chuckle. I dragged my attention up in time to see a faint, crooked grin appear.
“We have to stop meeting like this,” he said, tucking his hands into his pockets.
“Like what?” I pushed a loose strand behind my ear, then pulled down my dress sleeves before catching myself fidgeting. “When I’m in need of rescuing?”
