Gage
I stepped off the stage, still grinning, still high on the rush we’d just given everyone. My chest buzzed with leftover adrenaline, the sound of the crowd echoing in my ears like waves that hadn’t quite settled. Laughter, clapping, whistles—little bursts of approval that swirled together into a blur of noise. But none of it mattered. Not a single bit of it registered once my gaze found her.
Her smile was still there, small but impossibly sweet, curving her lips in that way that made my whole chest ache. Her cheeks glowed pink, like she wasn’t used to being caught in the middle of attention, like she didn’t want anyone to notice she’d been enjoying herself. And God, the way she looked when she blushed—it was lethal. My grin widened instantly, unbidden, like it belonged only to her. T
