4

Sunday morning dawned soft and lazy, a rare gift with no diner shifts, no club, and no crushing deadlines breathing down my neck. The cash from Friday night still felt unreal in my hidden envelope—enough to buy breathing room. Sarah bounced into my room with two movie tickets clutched like treasure. “Horror night, babe! No excuses. We deserve this.”

I laughed, pulling on jeans and a cozy sweater. Ben was at a friend’s house for the day, Noah was buried in bakery overtime, so it was just us girls.

We hit the theater first, sinking into plush seats for the latest slasher flick. Horror was our thing—the jump scares, the ridiculous gore, the way we’d scream in unison and clutch each other’s arms like teenagers. Halfway through, a chainsaw scene had us both yelping so loud the row behind us shushed us. We dissolved into giggles, popcorn flying everywhere. For those two hours, debt, stripping, and responsibilities melted away. Just screams and sisterhood.

After the credits, we spilled into the arcade attached to the mall, neon lights flashing like chaos in the best way. Sarah dragged me to the claw machines first, shrieking triumph when she won a ridiculous stuffed bear. I crushed her at air hockey, our laughter echoing as the puck slammed back and forth. We raced virtual cars, danced on the rhythm platform (badly), and spent way too many tokens on silly photo booths, making ridiculous faces. My cheeks hurt from smiling. It felt normal. Free.

Thirsty and buzzing, we wandered to the food court for ice cream. I ordered two massive cones—strawberry cheesecake for me, mint chocolate chip for her—and paid before she could protest. The bills from the club felt lighter in my hand now.

“Kate!” Sarah’s eyes widened, reaching for her wallet. “You didn’t have to. That’s your money.”

I handed her the cone with a grin, licking mine as we walked. “I wanted to. You’ve been my rock through all this mess. Let me spoil you for once. It’s not much, but it’s something.”

She grumbled, but I saw the smile tugging at her lips. We found a bench outside, sun warming our faces, and devoured the ice cream while people-watching. By the time the cones were gone, Sarah was plotting again. “Okay, my turn to treat. You need a new dress. Something fun. Come on.”

I should have known better. The boutique she pulled me into was all glitter and low lights, racks of clothes that screamed “night out” instead of “casual Sunday.” For the next ten minutes, it was a battle.

“Sarah, stop! This is too revealing,” I hissed as she held up yet another scrap of fabric masquerading as a dress—backless, with slits up to there.

She waved it off, eyes sparkling. “It’s not for everyday you, dummy. You need to look sexy for Noah. You two are so boring—kissing like it’s prom and calling it a night. You need excitement in your life!” She smiled dreamily, clearly lost in whatever spicy book character she’d been obsessing over lately. Sarah lived for those dark, possessive heroes who swept women off their feet.

“Not interested, Sarah,” I said firmly, pushing another hanger away. My cheeks burned just thinking about it. Noah was safe, gentle. That was what I needed right now.

She sighed dramatically but kept hunting. Then she gasped. “Wait… this one.” She pulled out a dress that caught the light like liquid starlight—shimmery silver material that shifted between pearl and smoke. It looked elegant yet dangerous.

I eyed it warily. “It’s pretty, but—”

“Go test it on right now. Ugh, Sarah? Shh, shh, no more complaining.” She shoved me toward the changing rooms, her grin unstoppable.

I sighed and slipped inside the curtained stall. The dress slid over my skin like a whisper. Wow. I stared at my reflection. It hugged every curve my hips, my waist, the swell of my breasts creating a shimmer that made me look expensive, untouchable. The neckline plunged into deep cleavage I immediately tugged at, self-conscious. The hem barely reached mid-thigh, short enough that bending over would be risky. It was stunning, but too much. Too exposed.

“Sarah, I love it but it’s short,” I called out, smoothing the fabric.

No response.

“Sarah?” I tried again. Silence. She’d probably wandered to the makeup aisle, distracted by lipsticks.

I stepped out slowly, heels from the store’s try-on rack clicking softly. No Sarah in sight. The boutique was quiet, just soft music and racks. Then I noticed him.

He stood near a display of accessories, phone pressed to his ear, talking in low, commanding tones. My breath caught. He looked so good—tall and broad, dark hair perfectly tousled, a black button-up shirt tucked neatly into tailored black trousers that accentuated powerful legs.

A tattoo snaked down one forearm, intricate and dark, hinting at edges I shouldn’t find intriguing. On his wrist gleamed a watch I recognized from magazines—something that could probably pay my tuition, rent, and Mom’s treatments for a year.

He looked up. Our eyes locked.

Omg. Those eyes—steel-gray, piercing, the same ones from the street the other day. They froze me in place. He stiffened visibly, voice cutting off mid-sentence on the phone. Without breaking eye contact, he murmured something curt and ended the call, sliding the phone away.

My heart hammered. I took a step back as he started toward me, slow and deliberate, like a predator who’d spotted prey. My back hit the wall softly, the cool surface a shock against my heated skin.

“What’s your name, little cat?” His voice was deep, accented, velvet-wrapped danger. He stopped close too close, towering over me. Up close, his full, luscious lips were even more distracting.

“Kate,” I breathed, looking up. Heat flooded my face.

“Good,” he whispered, a smirk curving that mouth. He leaned in, nose brushing my neck, inhaling deeply. A low groan rumbled from his chest. “Mmhnn.”

I shivered, spine tingling. “What do you want?”

“I want to fuck you here.” The words were blunt, raw, delivered like fact.

I gasped, eyes widening. “What?”

He didn’t flinch. Those icy eyes bored into mine. “Name your offer.”

The audacity hit like a slap. I shoved at his chest—solid as granite. “What the hell?” I shrieked, voice cracking with shock and anger. I tried to sidestep, to escape this whirlwind of a man who smelled like spice and sin.

His hand caught my arm, firm but not bruising, pulling me back. His tone dropped to something low and dangerous. “Don’t act innocent, stray cat. Not when you’re looking this tempting in that dress. Name your price.”

That did it. Rage exploded through the embarrassment and unwanted spark his presence lit in me. I slapped him hard—palm cracking across that sharp jaw with every ounce of fury, fear, and confusion I carried. My hand stung. His head barely moved, but surprise flickered in those eyes.

“Don’t you dare,” I hissed, breathing hard.

I wrenched free and ran, the short dress riding up as I bolted through the racks, heart thundering in my ears. Sarah’s voice called faintly from somewhere behind—“Kate? Wait!” but I didn’t stop. I burst out of the boutique, cheeks flaming, the shimmer of the dress mocking me under mall lights.

What the hell just happened? That man—his gaze, his scent, his filthy words had unraveled me in seconds. Noah’s gentle kisses felt worlds away.

I ducked into a side hallway, pressing my back to the wall again, trying to catch my breath. The dress suddenly felt too tight, too revealing. Too much like an invitation I never meant to send.

Sarah found me minutes later, eyes wide with worry and a shopping bag in hand. “What happened? You look like you saw a ghost!”

I shook my head, forcing a shaky laugh. “Just… some creep. Let’s go home.”

But as we left the mall, I couldn’t shake the feeling of those steel eyes following me. Or the terrifying thrill that came with them. My life was already spinning out of control. Now it had a face. And a name I didn’t even know yet.