Stella:
The night was starting to blur at the edges, softened by the slow buzz of alcohol settling in my veins. I wasn’t drunk, not even close, but the slight warmth in my limbs, the ease in my posture, told me I was just tipsy enough to find amusement in things I normally wouldn’t. Like the man currently trying to insert himself into my evening uninvited.
I leaned back slightly, swirling the last of my cocktail, the ice clinking against the glass. The dim lights of the club flickered across his face—decent-looking, but with that unmistakable air of arrogance that made me want to yawn.
“You should know, I’m not alone,” I said, lifting my drink to my lips. The smooth burn of tequila coated my tongue as I watched his reaction over the rim. “The person I’m with just stepped away for a mome
