Page 20

“I love you too,” she whispers, voice muffled against his chest.

He releases her, then points at me like he’s aiming a weapon. “Bring her back.”

I nod once. “I will.”

Wyatt holds my gaze a beat longer, then steps back. “Goodnight.”

Stella forces a smile. “Night.”

We turn, and I guide her through the thinning crowd, my hand settling at the small of her back. Not because she needs help walking—because I need her in range. Because I can’t stand the idea of losing sight of her in the dark.

She glances up at me as we reach my truck. “You’re… very touchy for a guy pretending to be professional.”

I open the passenger door for her. “Get in.”

She laughs under her breath, but she climbs in, and I catch the way her body relaxes just slightly when she’s inside the cab.

I shut the door and circle around, scanning the lot before I climb in.

As soon as I’m behind the wheel, I lock the doors.

Stella’s gaze flicks to the locks. “That’s dramatic.”

“It’s smart,” I say.

She exhales. “Okay. I’m… not arguing.”

Silence fills the truck, thick and heavy.

Then, quietly: “I hate this.”

I keep my eyes on the road. “I know.”

“I hate feeling like I’m… prey,” she whispers.

My hands tighten on the wheel.

“Look at me,” I say.

She turns, and I catch her profile in the dash lights. Her eyes shine—not quite tears, but close.

“You’re not prey,” I tell her, voice low. “You’re protected.”

“By you,” she says.

“Yes.”

The word comes out harder than I intend. Like a claim.

She holds my gaze for a beat, then looks out the window at the dark road and the sleeping fields. “Okay,” she whispers again, softer than before.

I drive faster than I should.

Not reckless.

Just… urgent.

Her house looksnormal in the night.