Daddy’s wild girl

Chapter 28

The noise at the table didn’t really die down after James’s question. If anything, it got louder—like everyone was waiting for a reaction, for drama, for something entertaining to happen.

My heart was still beating too fast.

I hated that I was the center of attention like this.

Ethan finally spoke again.

“She isn’t my type.”

The words were flat.

Simple.

No hesitation.

For a second, there was silence—like even the party noise around us softened just enough for it to land properly.

Then the group reacted again. A few laughs, a few whistles, someone muttering something I didn’t catch.

But I did.

I felt it.

Something in my chest tightened in a way I didn’t expect.

Not because I cared what he thought.

At least… that’s what I told myself immediately.

James leaned back, grinning like this was all a game. “Damn, Ethan. Harsh.”

Ethan didn’t even look at him. He just took another sip of his drink like the conversation wasn’t worth his time.

I stayed frozen beside James, still sitting too close, still aware of his hand that had been on my shoulder earlier.

Now it felt heavier.

Wrong.

I subtly shifted away, pressing myself slightly into the armrest of the couch.

James noticed.

Of course he did.

His grin widened just a little, like it amused him.

“Relax,” he said lightly, leaning back again. “We’re just talking.”

I forced a small breath out, trying to steady myself.

This wasn’t my space.

Not these people.

Not this conversation.

Not this energy.

Across the table, Ethan’s gaze flicked up again—briefly—through the chaos of voices and bodies.

It landed on me for half a second.

Then he looked away like it meant nothing.

Like I meant nothing.

And somehow… that stung more than I wanted to admit.

I straightened slightly, forcing my expression neutral.

I wasn’t going to react.

Not here.

Not in front of them.

James nudged the conversation forward again like nothing had happened. “Anyway,” he said, turning back to me with that same easy smile, “Bella, right? You’re new here?”

I hesitated. “Yeah.”

“From where?”

Before I could answer properly, laughter erupted from the other side of the table. Someone dropped a bottle too loudly. Someone else shouted over the music.

“This is boring,” Ethan said suddenly, standing up like the entire conversation had lost its value.

No explanation. No second glance.

Just that.

Then he turned and walked off, disappearing into the moving crowd like he hadn’t just dropped something sharp in the middle of everything.

James laughed under his breath. “Dramatic much?”

I didn’t respond. I wasn’t even focused on Ethan anymore.

My attention was still stuck on the fact that I was sitting here—too close to people I didn’t know, in a conversation I didn’t choose.

James stretched slightly, loosening up like he’d already moved on. “So,” he said, tilting his head toward me, “shall we go dance?”

I hesitated.

The idea of staying here, stuck at this table, felt worse.

I nodded slowly. “Okay.”

Maybe moving would help. Maybe I just needed air, space, anything other than this heavy table energy.

James grinned like he’d gotten exactly what he wanted and stood up, offering his hand.

I took it.

We pushed through the crowd toward the dance floor, the music getting louder with every step. Bodies moved everywhere—fast, careless, close. The bass hit so hard it vibrated through my bones.

James pulled me in gently at first, and I followed his rhythm, trying to ignore how overwhelmed I felt.

For a moment, it almost worked.

Almost.

Then he spun me.

Just a simple turn.

But when I came back around—

I collided into someone.

Hard.

A firm hand caught my waist instantly, steadying me before I could stumble back.

My breath caught.

The world around me blurred for a second, the music fading just slightly as I looked up.

And my stomach dropped.

“Long time no see, freshman.”

Scott.