My heart is literally in my mouth. I brace myself, expecting Mr. Dragon-Dreads to respond, to try again. But instead, he shuffles off, muttering something I can’t catch, and disappears back to wherever he came from.
I exhale, feeling my shoulders sag in relief.
Honestly… that man was terrifyingly creepy. But still, how did he back down for Braydon?
Slowly, Braydon turns toward me. And just like that, I immediately get my answer. His face is a storm, dark and intense, anger and displeasure written across every line. My throat tightens, and I force my gaze away, taking a sip of my drink to steady myself.
“If you’re expecting a thank you, you’re not getting it,” I say, trying to sound confident, to mask the fluttering in my chest. “I don’t need anybody making his claim on me.”
He slides
