Chapter 94: Ninety Four

By the time I moved away from the dance floor, the crowd had loosened and everyone was kinda tipsy now. The music was louder, the kind that made conversation a little harder but not impossible, and clusters of people had migrated toward the dance floor in the center of the room. The colored lights swirled lazily across faces, catching glasses, hair, sequins. Declan and I found ourselves at one of the high tables. By chance, or maybe he had followed me, or me him, I don’t know.

I was sipping the same drink far too slowly, hoping to pace myself. Declan, on the other hand, seemed perfectly at ease as he was leaning back against the wall, one ankle crossed over the other, watching the crowd like he was reading the room, slightly judgemental.

“So,” he said, glancing at me over the rim of his glass, “your fiancé didn’t have an issue with you coming here?”

I raised an eyebrow. “Why would he?”

His lips tilted in that infuriating, half-smirk way. “You were hesitant the other day. Figured you’d have to explain.”

“I did,” I replied, keeping my voice even. “He was fine with it.” I didn’t tell him that I’d left out the part where Declan was coming, or that Jacob’s idea of ‘fine’ probably meant he’d ask me for a detailed rundown later.

Declan hummed, unconvinced. “You changed your mind the second I agreed to come. I noticed, you know.”

My cheeks warmed. I rolled my eyes. “Its not about you.”

He cocked his head to the side, looking at me. “Then why?”

I looked away, pretending to watch the people dancing. “Because I wanted to,” I said. It was the truth, just not the whole truth.

His gaze lingered on me for a moment longer than it should have. I could feel it, heavy, and assessing, like he was peeling back layers I didn’t want exposed.

Across the room, a couple of colleagues waved me over. I smiled and waved back, pretending not to notice the way one of the women leaned toward Declan when she spotted him, whispering something to the person next to her with a little laugh.

Declan noticed. Of course he did. “Looks like your work friends are curious about me,” he said lightly, his eyes flicking toward them.

“They’re curious about everyone,” I countered. “It’s an office party. Gossip is the main course.”

That made him chuckle, low and quiet. “Guess I’m dessert, then.”

I rolled my eyes, but the corner of my mouth betrayed me. “You’re insufferable. And you are full of yourself when you are drunk.”

“And yet you’re standing here.”

I didn’t have a comeback for that.

Before I could come up with something, someone appeared with a tray of shots, weaving through the crowd. My colleagues, already flushed and laughing, urged me to take one. Declan raised his brows at me like it was a dare.

“Just one,” I said, mostly to myself, and reached for the glass. The liquor burned its way down, warming me from the inside out. Declan downed his like it was nothing, setting the glass down with a quiet clink, his eyes on me the entire time. I shifted, uncomfortable, slightly turned on. I could feel the buzz of the alcohol inside. Feel myself get looser, stupider by the minute. I needed to stop drinking.

The music shifted into something more upbeat, and one of my coworkers grabbed my arm. “Dance with us!” she shouted over the bass.

I shook my head. “I was just there! I don’t really dance.”

Declan leaned in, voice warm against my ear. “I’ve seen you dance.”

I froze for a fraction of a second, memory flashing. University, my small kitchen, music from someone’s phone, his hands on my hips. I covered it with a scoff. “You’re imagining things.”

“Am I?” he asked, low, almost smug.

Before I could reply, another coworker had dragged him toward the dance floor, and to my surprise, he went willingly. I watched him blend into the crowd, his height making him easy to spot. He was laughing at something someone said, his shoulders loose, but his eyes kept drifting back to me.

It was stupid, completely, utterly stupid, but I felt something coil in my stomach when a woman I vaguely recognized stepped closer to him, her hand brushing his arm as she leaned in to say something. He didn’t move away.

I told myself it wasn’t my business. He could talk to whoever he wanted. And yet my drink suddenly tasted a little too bitter.

I didn’t realize how obvious my mood shift was unti Ashley sidled up to me. “You okay?” she asked, raising her brows.

“Fine,” I said quickly. Too quickly.

She followed my gaze toward the dance floor and smirked. “Ohhh. I see.”

“There’s nothing to see,” I shot back, though my tone probably ruined the point.

By the time Declan made his way back to me, I’d plastered on a neutral expression. He handed me another drink without asking if I wanted one, just like he always used to. I hated that I noticed, and I hated even more that it made my chest feel warm.

“You were popular out there,” I said, keeping my tone light.

“Jealous, are we?” he asked, entirely too casually.

“Not in the slightest.”

He grinned like he didn’t believe me, then leaned in just enough to be heard over the music. “You should be. I didn’t ask for any of that.”

I sipped my drink, refusing to meet his eyes. “You didn’t stop it, either.”

For a second, something unreadable flickered in his gaze. Then he smiled, slow and deliberate. “Neither did you.”

It wasn’t my place to stop anything. It wasn’t my place to get jealous, either.

The rest of the evening blurred a little after that. Music, drinks, the warm press of bodies in too small a space. Every time I turned, he seemed to be there, close enough that I could feel the heat of him, but never quite touching. It was maddening.

At one point, I ended up talking to a coworker about a project, and Declan joined us mid-sentence. The way he stood just a little too close, his arm brushing mine now and then, made it feel like he was marking territory. The coworker noticed; I saw the quick glance between us, the faint curve of their lips.

By the time midnight rolled around, the crowd had thinned, and people were starting to leave. I should have gone too. But I didn’t. Neither did he.

I was waiting for him to leave, first. But he was enjoying himself too much. And I was enjoying being around him. The alcohol had lowered our inhibitions. Too much, maybe.

We were standing by the balcony, looking out at the city lights, the buzz of conversation and music still behind us. I’d had enough to drink that my head felt kinda fuzzy, and the cool night air was a relief against my hot skin.

Declan leaned on the railing, watching me instead of the view. “You look… happy tonight,” he said.

I huffed out a laugh. “That’s not usually the word you’d use for me, is it?”

His mouth quirked. “Not lately.”

We stood there in silence for a moment, the kind that felt both comfortable and dangerous. Then he said, softer this time, “I’m glad you came.”

I met his eyes, and for a heartbeat, I forgot about the music, the party, everything else.

That was when someone from inside called my name, breaking whatever was happening between us. I turned, answering, and by the time I looked back at him, his expression was unreadable again.

Still, the air felt different, charged, like we’d stepped too close to something neither of us was ready to admit.

And the night was still far from over.