Page 94 of Hide From Me

Moe doesn’t say anything at first—just moves with me. Slow, deliberate, a hand firm on my lower back and the other resting on my hip like he’s reclaiming what was always his.

“You enjoy yourself?” he finally murmurs, lips brushing my temple.

I hum, resting my cheek against his chest. “You’re cute when you’re pretending not to be jealous.”

His chest rumbles with a soft laugh. “I don’t pretend, baby. I just play nice.”

I lift my head. “And when you’re done playing?”

He doesn't say anything, just presses a kiss just beneath my ear, making a shiver roll down my spine.

By the time the song ends, Moe’s already guiding me back toward the door with a hand on the small of my back and a new kind of silence settling between us. Not awkward. Not angry. Just… charged.

King catches my eye from the booth, lifting his glass in a mock salute.

I don’t wave back, but I don’t look away, either.

Twenty-Three

Moe

01-23-2026

On the road

She danced with him.

Not like a goofy, awkward sway—she actually fucking danced. There was no hesitation, no second-guessing, just her hand sliding into his like she’d been doing it all her life and let him guide her across that sticky bar floor like it meant nothing.

Like it wasn’t a knife twisting under my ribs with every step they took.

I had to damn near climb on a bar at the diner and throw out my hip just to get her to dance with me. I had to practically drag a laugh out of her, play the fool, and beg for one little sway. But tonight? One look from him, and she was all in.

My fingers tap impatiently against the steering wheel, each drumming beat sharper than the last as I try to ground myself. She’s humming beside me, content, like we didn’t just walk out of a fever dream where everything blurred and bent sideways.

“I had fun,” my fucking storm cloud chirps beside me, wiggling in her seat like nothing’s wrong. Like I didn’t watch another man slide his palm over the small of her back.

Like she didn’t let him.

I drag in a slow breath through my nose, let it burn through my lungs like a slow cigarette.

“The burgers were amazing,” I force out. Her dance dies mid-sway and she goes quiet, folding inward like she just stepped into a shadow she didn’t mean to.

Shit.

“Yeah,” she says after a long pause, drawing the word out like it weighs more than she knows how to carry.

It feels as if she’s seeing me as the monster from her past as she wearily side eyes me.

I mean Iama monster for her but I don't want to be the scary kind. I want to be the one she keeps in her bed, not the one she hides from beneath it.

I let go of the steering wheel and reach for her thigh, grounding myself there. My thumb moves in slow, apologetic circles. I don’t want this version of me to be what she remembers.

“I’m glad you had fun, baby,” I murmur, softer now, trying to ease the tension in her shoulders. If I want to be technical with myself, shediddance with me tonight. No bribery. No teasing. Just walked into my arms like she belonged there.

So at least something went right.

Still… the unease clings to me like smoke that won’t clear. The way King watched her. The way he looked at me. Like he knew every nerve to hit, every pressure point to exploit.

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