Chapter 12 #4
“Come on,” she said, already pulling me out of the booth.
“You’re not sitting all night.”
The dance floor was packed again, the lights flickering across the room as the music pulsed through the floor.
We moved with the beat, swaying our hips, blending into the crowd.
I leaned closer to her so she could hear me.
“Something happened when I went to the bathroom,” I said quietly.
Nia frowned slightly, her rhythm faltering for a split second as she looked at me.
“What happened?”
I told her.
The whispers. The bragging. The little show they put on.
Nia’s entire body tensed, the easy, playful energy completely evaporating from her posture.
Her head turned slowly toward the VIP section, her eyes narrowing as she scanned the floor.
“They did that while you were in there alone?”
I shrugged lightly like it didn’t matter, attempting to project the same unbothered corporate chill I’d used in the mirror.
But Nia’s expression had already shifted into something fiercely protective.
“Mm,” she said under her breath, her jaw tightening.
We danced a little longer before heading back toward the booth, the bass thumping against my ribs as I braced myself to sit back down next to Jalen, wondering if Nia was about to drop a playbook of her own on the tableAs we approached, the waitress from earlier walked past us carrying a tray.
Nia had a glass of tequila in her hand.
And right as the girl passed—
Nia “accidentally” bumped her elbow.
The tequila splashed straight down the front of the waitress’s shirt.
The girl squealed in shock, jumping back as the cold liquor soaked through the fabric.
“Oh my God!”
Nia gasped dramatically, pressing a hand to her chest.
“I’m so sorry!”
The waitress looked down at her soaked top, her skin flushing bright red under the golden lights, then back at Nia.
“You did that on purpose,” she snapped, her voice trembling with sudden fury.
Nia blinked innocently, her posture completely relaxed against the thumping bass of the music.
“You just have to watch where you’re going next time,” she said sweetly, giving her a look that was pure steel beneath the honey.
The girl looked like she wanted to launch into a full-blown argument right there on the edge of the VIP section, but a few people nearby were already turning their heads, watching the scene unfold.
Realizing she was completely outmatched and on the clock, she stormed off toward the service bar instead.
“You’re ridiculous,” I told her quietly, holding back a laugh that was threatening to break through my professional exterior.
“She started it,” Nia said, completely unbothered as she tossed her empty glass onto the table.
We slid back into the booth.
Jalen’s arm immediately stretched along the back of the leather cushions behind me, his eyes glancing between the two of us, sensing the sudden spike of adrenaline.
“What did I miss?” he asked, his deep voice laced with immediate curiosity.
“Nothing,” I said quickly, reaching for my wine glass to give my hands something to do before Nia could open her mouth.
But the knot in my chest had only grown tighter.
The bass from the speakers was starting to give me a dull ache behind my eyes, and every time I looked out at the flashing lights, the waitress’s sharp, petty words echoed in the back of my mind.
*Enjoy the VIP suite while it lasts.*
I was tired of the performance.
I was tired of wondering where the line between our strategy and reality actually sat.
After another ten minutes of forcing a polite smile, I leaned closer to his side.
“I think I’m about ready to head out,” I said, my voice barely carrying over the music.
He looked surprised, his eyebrows lifting slightly as he turned his full attention down to me.
“Already?”
“It’s been a long day,” I murmured, offering the most honest excuse I had left.
“Between the hair, the nails, the shopping, and a stadium full of seventy thousand people, I think my battery is officially on zero.”
He studied me again, his light brown eyes searching my face in the dim, golden light of the booth.
He could clearly tell there was a shift, that the easy, fluid rhythm we’d shared on the dance floor had completely vanished, but he didn't push it in front of the others.
“Alright,” he said softly, his hand sliding off my thigh as he reached for his phone on the table.
He gave Cal a quick nod.
“We’re heading out, man.”
A few minutes later, we were outside again.
The heavy double doors of the club closed behind us, cutting off the pounding bass and replacing it with the vast, quiet expanse of the Houston night.
The air felt much cooler now, carrying a crisp breeze that brushed against my arms.
It was significantly quieter out here on the curb as we waiting for valet, the distant hum of highway traffic the only remaining sound.
Once in the car, I stared out the window most of the way, watching the city lights pass by while the music played softly through the speakers.
Jalen glanced over at me a few times.
“You’re quiet,” he said finally.
“Just tired.”
He didn’t look convinced.
“Did something happen tonight?” he asked.
“No,” I said quickly.
Then, softer, trying to take the defensive edge out of my tone.
“I’m fine.”
A few blocks later, as the familiar steel-and-glass outline of my high-rise loomed in the distance, I spoke again.
“You can drop me at my building,” I said, looking out at the dark pavement.
“I’ll pick up my car tomorrow.”
He frowned slightly, his fingers tightening against the steering wheel.
“You sure?”
“Yeah.”
The car slowed as we pulled up outside my building, the engine idling with a quiet hum against the concrete curb.
He shifted into park and turned toward me again, his light brown eyes searching my face, practically begging me to drop the corporate armor.
“Everything alright?”
I forced a small smile, matching his gaze with the most convincing performance I had left in me.
“Yes.”
Then I reached for the door handle, eager to escape the heavy, suffocating gravity of his presence before my composure shattered completely.
“Thanks for tonight.”
I stepped out before he could say anything else, closing the door firmly behind me.
The cool night air brushed against my skin as I walked toward the glass entrance, the sound of my heels clicking sharply against the pavement.
I didn’t look back.
Inside the lobby, I kept my head up, calm, composed, nodding politely to the security guard at the desk as if I hadn't just spent the last forty-eight hours wrapped up in a whirlwind publicity stunt with a franchise quarterback.
But once the elevator doors closed, cutting off the rest of the world, I let out a quiet breath, my shoulders finally dropping as the tears I'd been holding back threatened to prick at the corners of my eyes.
Down at the curb, Jalen was still sitting in the car.
Confused.
His eyes were locked on the lobby doors, trying to piece together the exact moment the play had completely broken down.
And that was the last thing I saw before the elevator doors slid shut.