Page 14 of One Last Memory

“I can absolutely fix that. Angelo Dillon.” He stuck out his hand and I stared at it for a second too long before shaking it. His grip was firm but gentle, and I pulled back fast, afraid he’d feel how clammy my palm was.

“Yours?” he asked, tilting his head.

“Lee. Just Lee,” I said, managing a small smile.

“Well,justLee,” He tested it out, rolling it over his tongue a few times. “Your smile’s gorgeous.”

I ducked my head, heat crawling up my neck. The way he said it, so earnest, made me want to believe him, but the club’s noise was still clawing at me. I shifted on the seat, my leg bouncing harder. Angelo’s eyes flicked to it, but he didn’t comment, just stood and offered his hand again. “Come on. Let’s get you out of here.”

I glanced at his hand, then back at his face. “Was your set supposed to end that fast?”

He shrugged. “I own the club, so I can kinda do what I want.”

My brows shot up. “But… why would you come over to me?”

Angelo’s expression softened, and he leaned closer, just enough for me to hear him over the music. “Because I get it, Lee. The anxiety. It’s why I’m up there—” he jerked his thumb toward the DJ booth “—and not down here. I saw you, and… I don’t know. I just knew you needed someone.”

He didn’t know me, but he saw me, and that was more than I’d expected from anyone tonight. I slid off the leather, my heart hammering in my ears as I took his hand. His fingers closed around mine as he led me toward a door at the back of the stage.

We were halfway down the back hallway when a drunk guy lurched toward us, his voice slurred and too loud. “Hey, sweetheart, where you goin’?” He reached for me, his hand grazing my arm, and I froze, my breath catching in my throat. Before I could react, Angelo stepped in front of me, pressing me gently against the wall.

“Get him out of here,” Angelo snapped at a security guard who was already hauling the guy away. The drunk shouted something incoherent, but the guard dragged him toward the exit, the silence returning as he turned back to me, his hands hovering like he wanted to touch me but wasn’t sure if he should. “Hey, Bella, you okay?”

I sagged against the wall, my hands trembling. “Yeah, I’m good. Sorry, this is just… a bit much.”

“Don’t apologize. There’s a back door on the other side of the lounge. You can get out of here, no problem. You got a phone to call your sister?”

“Yeah, I—” I fumbled in my pocket, pulling out my phone. “Yeah, thanks.”

I was just about to dial my sister’s number when my attention turned to two very,veryfamiliar faces. They were in the throes of some hilarious conversation, walking up to us, one of them throwing up an arm to greet Angelo. Horror replaced my tight smile as I realized they all knew each other.

Which meant…

The conversation cut off when both of those men realized who Angelo had brought with him.

“Dude,” Mason breathed, rising to his feet. Benji choked on his drink, a few inches away from us. I froze beside Angelo, searching both of their expressions. I expected to see betrayal or anger or anything other than the heated glares that they were giving me.

Benji licked his lips, but I don’t even think he knew what he was doing. “You found her,” He whispered.

The embarrassment rocketing through me was entirely too much to handle. So, I did the one thing I was good at.Run.

BAILEE

Isatinthehammock strung, my journal open in my lap, pages already half-filled with furious scribbles, my pen digging into the paper like it could carve out the mess of feelings from last night. Embarrassing didn’t even begin to cover it. I’d panic-texted Elissa, told her I was going home, and then bolted from the club. I’d stalked into the rental house, locked my bedroom door, and buried myself under the blanket, hoping the darkness would swallow my shame.

But it hadn’t. Angelo knew Mason and Benji. Of course, he did. The universe had a sick sense of humor, tangling me up with three men who were friends—maybe more. I’d seen the way Mason’s hand settled on the back of Angelo’s neck, casual but intimate, like they shared something I’d stumbled into and ruined.

My pen froze mid-sentence, the ink bleeding into a blotch. Had I fucked it all up? Flirted with Angelo, let Benji eat me out on the beach, Mason fucking me on the kitchen counter, and now what? They probably thought I was some clueless tourist playing games, oblivious to whatever they had going on.

I wrote faster, the words spilling out in jagged bursts.

>>> Angelo’s eyes, soft and worried, like he thought he’d broken me. He looked distraught, like he’d made my night worse, and I can’t stop seeing it. I don’t have their numbers, no missed calls or texts to obsess over, but God, I can’t shake him. Or Benji. Or Mason. What is wrong with me?

My hand cramped, but I kept going, trying to pin down the panic, the want, the fear that I’d misread everything.

My cell vibrated against my hip, ripping me out of my chaos. My journal slid to the side as I scrambled for the phone, heart racing. Phoenix’s name lit up the screen, and I let out a shaky breath, surprised but relieved that it wasn’t Mom or Malia. I swiped to answer. “Hey.”

“Hey, big sis,” Phoenix’s voice came through, carefree, like he was lounging on a campus lawn instead of drowning in finals. “You called and I missed it. Sorry, you know, exams and all.”

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