The party was loud, a mess of bodies and music and too much alcohol, but Ainsley walked in like she owned the place. Leather boots that clicked against the tile, legs bare, lips painted wine red. She didn’t care who was watching. She wasn’t here to make friends. She was here to be seen. But not by them. By him. Kade. She knew he’d be there. Knew before she accepted the invite. And she was already tense because she hadn’t heard from him in four days. Not a word. Not a text. Not a knock at her door. It wasn’t like they had a schedule. That was the whole point. But the silence itched under her skin. She told herself she didn’t care. That he was probably busy. Probably screwing someone else. Probably over it. But the second she saw him across the room, sitting too close to a girl with baby-pin
