Rose’s POV
The club was everything I’d imagined—and somehow even more.
Girls were dressed to get attention, some wearing so little it barely counted as clothing. The music blasted through the room, loud enough to drown out almost every thought in my head.
Almost.
For some reason, I just couldn’t focus.
My mind kept drifting back to them.
They’ve been gone for a while now... What kind of discussion could possibly be taking this long?
I scanned the club, hoping to catch a glimpse of either Reagan or Devon, but neither of them was anywhere in sight.
Ever since we’d walked in, I’d noticed people stealing glances at me every now and then. Every time I caught them staring, I’d look right back with a raised eyebrow.
What the hell are they looking at?
It’s not like my lipstick is smeared across my face.
"Rose."
Mum’s voice pulled me from my thoughts.
"I need to step outside for a minute. Don’t wander off, alright?"
I barely had time to nod before she disappeared into the crowd.
"Great," I muttered under my breath.
"Left all alone. How nice."
"Hey, sexy."
I looked up to find a guy standing in front of me with a drink already stretched out in my direction.
I didn’t take it.
"Wanna get a room?" he asked with a wink. "Just the two of us."
An uncomfortable shiver ran down my spine.
I’d only ever seen things like this happen in movies. I never thought I’d be the one dealing with it.
Instead of answering, I calmly looked down at my own drink and took another sip.
"Hey, sexy."
I ignored him again.
That seemed to snap whatever patience he had left.
"So fucking full of yourself," he scoffed as he turned away. "For someone with average looks."
This bitch...
I spun around, already thinking of the perfect comeback, but he’d disappeared into the crowd before I could open my mouth.
"Bitter asshole," I muttered.
Still annoyed, I found myself thinking about Reagan.
I wonder if girls are throwing themselves at him too...
The image came so easily it irritated me.
Pretty girls surrounding him.
Laughing.
Flirting.
Touching him.
Before I realized it, my fingers had tightened around my glass.
...Why does that piss me off so much?
My mood sank without warning.
Before I could stop myself, I emptied the rest of my drink in one long gulp.
By the time Mum came back, I was already feeling the alcohol.
"I’ll be right back," I mumbled, pushing myself to my feet.
Every step felt a little less steady than the last.
"Why did I drink so much?" I muttered, using the wall for support.
"Where the fuck is the bathroom..."
The hallway seemed longer than it should’ve been.
I was halfway through finding my bearings when voices drifted toward me.
"I know you want it."
"I’ll show you a good time."
I almost turned around.
Whatever was happening wasn’t any of my business.
Then a familiar figure caught my eye.
Against my better judgment, I stepped closer.
...Reagan?
A woman was pressed against him.
One arm wrapped around his neck.
Her hand rested dangerously close to his belt.
I froze.
Almost as if sensing me, Reagan looked up.
Our eyes met.
For a split second, I could’ve sworn his body stiffened.
...No.
That’s just the alcohol talking.
Before I could even process what I’d seen, my feet had already started moving.
"Rose!"
His voice echoed behind me.
I only walked faster.
By the time I reached our table, my mind was completely blank.
Mum tried making conversation, but I barely heard a word she said.
The scene kept replaying in my head.
Again.
And again.
With every replay, something inside me burned a little hotter.
"Sorry for keeping you both waiting."
I looked up.
Devon was walking back toward the table.
Reagan was right beside him.
The moment I saw him, my mood soured all over again.
"It took a little longer than expected," Devon said.
"Sure did," Mum replied with a smile.
Devon gave her an apologetic grin before taking the seat beside her, leaving only one chair empty.
The one next to me.
Reagan sat down as though nothing had happened.
As though I hadn’t just seen him with another woman.
"Two glasses of whiskey and a beverage," Devon told the waiter before glancing at Reagan. Then his attention shifted to me.
"And you’ll have?"
Scoff.
I turned my head away without answering.
Mum glanced between the two of us.
She could tell something was wrong.
She just didn’t know what.
With a quiet sigh, she went back to talking with Devon.
Time passed.
Eventually, Devon stood and offered Mum his hand.
"Care to dance?"
She laughed and accepted, leaving Reagan and me alone at the table.
For a while, neither of us spoke.
Then—
"I didn’t do it."
I turned toward him.
He was taking slow sips from his drink, his eyes fixed on the people dancing across the club as though the conversation barely interested him.
"Sorry for interrupting," I said with an eye roll.
He let out a quiet sigh before setting his glass down.
When he looked at me, his expression was calm.
"She came onto me."
"I wasn’t interested."
"And even if you hadn’t walked in..."
"...nothing would’ve happened."
I folded my arms.
"Only guilty people explain themselves without being asked."
A corner of his lips lifted.
"Only jealous people react the way you did."
My head snapped toward him.
"...Jealous?"
"Yes."
"Jealous of what exactly?"
"You tell me."
I let out a disbelieving laugh.
"I can’t believe you."
"Go back to your one-night stand."
"And sorry for interrupting."
I pushed my chair back.
Before I could take another step, my wrist was suddenly caught in a firm grip.
"What the—"
He pulled me upright.
"Reagan!"
"What the fuck is wrong with you?"
He didn’t answer.
No matter how much I hit his arm, he didn’t even flinch.
It was like he couldn’t feel it.
He led me through the crowd, ignoring every protest, until we reached one of the private rooms.
The door swung open and he e pulled me inside, the door shutting behind us with a click.
"What the fu—"
The rest of my words disappeared the instant his lips crashed against mine.