Page 17 of Pose for Me

"Rayne?" Kahlee asks again, this time sharper. "What is it?"

"Nothing," I say quickly, shaking my head as though to clear it. But I can’t help glancing toward the hallway leading to the restrooms. For just a fleeting second, I could have sworn I saw him heading that way.

"Hold on," I murmur, pushing back my chair. "I’ll be right back."

"Hey, what—" Kahlee starts, but I don’t wait to hear her finish. My pulse pounds in my ears as I weave through the crowd, following an invisible pull toward the hallway.

The hallway is dimly lit, the hum of the bar fading into a muffled buzz behind me. My heels click softly against the worn floor as I step further in, my eyes darting between the men's and women's restroom doors. The faint scent of cleaning solution lingers in the air, sharp and sterile compared to the beer-soaked haze of the main room.

I hesitate, my gaze shifting to the door at the end of the hallway, its edges scuffed from years of use. It probably leads to an alleyway, but instinct keeps me rooted where I stand. For a moment, I feel ridiculous. Maybe I imagined him. Maybe the wine and our conversation aboutthemhad stirred something in me—something that conjured his presence out of thin air.

With a sigh, I turn on my heel, ready to head back to Kahlee and laugh this off as some weird coincidence.

Then I hear it—a soft creak of a hinge, the distinct sound of a door opening behind me. My breath catches, and I swivel back toward the noise.

Knox steps out of the men's room.

Chapter 13

Rayne

Timeseemstoslowas he moves, his tall, broad frame commanding every inch of space in the narrow hallway. His dark hair catches the faint light overhead, the subtle curl at the top just as I remember. Tattoos snake down his forearms, the ink looks like it’s bleeding down his skin from the sleeves of his casual black shirt. And then there are his eyes—piercing hazel with gold and green flecks that lock onto me like a predator sighting its prey.

A slow, deliberate smile tugs at the corner of his mouth, and it’s devastating. Dangerous.

"Knox," I whisper before I can stop myself, my voice barely audible over the thundering of my pulse.

"Rayne," he drawls, his voice low and gravelly, like smoke wrapped in velvet. He doesn’t stop walking until he’s right in front of me, close enough that I catch the clean, woodsy scent of him.

His gaze drags down the length of me, lingering on my dress. It’s modest by most standards—simple and black, with a high neckline—but the way his eyes darken as they rake over me makes me feel utterly exposed. Heat rises to my cheeks, a traitorous flush that betrays my thoughts.He knows.He knows exactly what’s under the fabric, and I hate how much that realization sends a shiver down my spine.

"What is it that guy says in the movie? Are you lost, baby girl?" he murmurs, his lips curling around the words like a promise.

My breath hitches, my lips parting as the memory of his voice calling me that—just hours ago, in the throes of pleasure—spirals through me. My knees feel weak, but I refuse to let him see just how much power he has over me.

My lips are dry, and I wet them quickly before responding—anything to break the magnetic pull between us.

"I didn’t think that movies would be your thing," I manage, cocking an eyebrow in what I hope passes as casual confidence. "But I can see why that one holds a certain appeal."

His smirk deepens, a low chuckle rumbling from his chest like it’s been dragged up from some dark, hidden place inside him. "There are several things that hold... a certain appeal to me." The weight of his words is deliberate, his tone dropping just enough to make my stomach tighten involuntarily.

I swallow hard, forcing myself not to react, but the heat creeping up the back of my neck betrays me. He doesn’t need to say it outright for me to know he’s talking about me. Still, something cold cuts through the warmth of his attention—a reminder. Knox has a boyfriend and as good as it felt to be between them, for all I know, I was just a passing moment of fun.

"Right," I mutter, trying to deflect, my voice tight against the spiraling tension. But before I can say more, there’s a faint noise behind him—the unmistakable creak of a door hinge. But I don’t look, my focus on Knox, too distracted by his presence to care.

"Did you get impatient, my love?" A velvety, teasing voice reaches me before I even register the movement. A hand, masculine yet graceful, snakes around Knox’s waist, its grip easy, familiar—as if it belongs there.

My gaze drifts toward the voice, and I’m suddenly staring into those impossibly blue eyes. Caribbean blue, framed by a darker ring. River’s grin spreads wide, wicked and full of mischief as he steps closer, his body brushing against Knox’s side.

"Well, hello, gorgeous," he says, his voice honeyed with charm yet edged with something sharper. Dangerous. "Fancy seeing you here."

The air shifts between the three of us, charged and electric. They’re both dressed casually tonight—tight jeans that cling to every inch of their powerful legs, shirts snug across their broad chests, tattoos on all the visible skin. It’s almost unfair how effortlessly captivating they are, how they command attention without even trying. My fingers twitch at my sides, the urge to touch them again, to trace the ink on their skin, burning through me like a fire I can barely contain.

River moves with deliberate ease, his body a sinuous line of confidence and intent as he steps around his boyfriend. A flicker of something wicked dances in his eyes, and that grin of his—a weapon disguised as charm—broadens as he closes the space between us.

I don’t move. I can’t. My breath hitches as his fingers lift, brushing against my collarbone, their touch featherlight yet searing. The heat from his skin radiates into mine, and though the gesture is barely invasive, it’s intimate enough to make my pulse stutter. His gaze doesn’t just meet mine—it pierces me, rooting me where I stand.

"Rayne," he murmurs, my name rolling off his tongue like a secret only we share. He steps closer, his frame eclipsing mine, and I feel the weight of his presence settle over me. His hand slides upward, curling loosely around my throat. Not tight—not threatening—but enough to send a shiver down my spine. His face dips, his lips brushing the shell of my ear as his warm breath fans across my skin.

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