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Quinn stood at my side, relaxed, observing. The club’s energy had settled into something slower. Scenes had begun and ended. Conversations softened into murmurs.

His fingers were still laced with mine. “You’re very quiet,” he said.

“I’m thinking.”

He chuckled. “That’s usually dangerous.”

Everything felt… steady.

Then the door opened, and a casually dressed stranger stepped into the club, a bag slung over his shoulder. He paused inside the entrance the way newcomers often did, letting their eyes adjust to the dim light.

Except…

This was no stranger.

My chest tightened.

Quinn gripped my hand. “What is it?”

I didn’t answer, because the man’s gaze had just alighted on me. His eyes widened in recognition.

Quinn followed my line of sight. “Who is that?”

I swallowed. “Jordan.”

And he was heading our way.

“Do you want me to leave?” Quinn’s shoulders were suddenly tight.

I clasped his hand tightly. “Absolutely not.” Then I let go and placed my hand at his nape, stroking gently. Quinn relaxed.

Jordan stopped a few feet away, and for a moment neither of us spoke.

He looked older, obviously. His hair was a little longer than I remembered. But the thing that struck me most was the absence of something.

The tension that had once lived in his shoulders was gone.

He looks lighter.

Then he smiled. “Max.”

My voice came out steadier than I expected.

“Jordan.” I inclined my head. “This is Quinn.”

Jordan’s gaze moved briefly to my hand at the back of Quinn’s neck.

“What brings you here?”

Jordan shrugged. “I was in the area. And I wondered if you’d still be here.”

I gestured to our surroundings. “As you see.”

Quinn cleared his throat. “If you’ll excuse me…”

I stared at him. “You don’t have to leave.”

He smirked. “Oh yes I do. Call of nature. And besides…” He gave me a warm smile. “I think you two need to talk.” He nodded towards Jordan, then moved off in the direction of the bathrooms.