CLARISSA’S POV
I storm off. I don’t even know why I’m so mad.
I don’t care about Landon. I hate him.
He’s arrogant, insufferable, and constantly pushing my buttons.
So why does the thought of him with someone else make my stomach twist?
“Clarissa.”
His voice is low, commanding, and then—before I can take another step, his hand wraps around my wrist, pulling me back. I spin around, colliding into his chest, and suddenly, I’m against him. My breath catches and my hands land on the hard plane of his torso. His grip is firm but not painful.
My heart pounds. I look up, and his eyes are already on me, intense. People are staring. Some even have their phones out. The flash of cameras only makes my skin prickle with discomfort.
Landon seems to sense my discomfort.
“Let them look,” Land
