“f**k off, Jeremy.”
The words slipped out before I even turned around, my voice sharp enough to slice through the bass thundering from the party below. Instead of backing off like a normal human being, he moved closer. Slow, heavy steps. Intentionally loud. Like he wanted me to feel every inch of his presence.
“Say it to my face, kiddo.”
His voice was lazy, low, and arrogant. The kind of tone that made me want to slap him… or something far worse.
I turned around, just enough to glare. “I said f**k off Jeremy.”
He smirked, pushing his hands into his pockets as the party lights bled across his face, painting him in red and gold. He looked like trouble walking—smug, sweaty from the party, shirt slightly undone, those tattoos on full display like a warning.
“Come on,” he drawled. “You do
