After a few more moments during which he seems to war with himself, he gives in, pulling the door open and gesturing for me to go ahead. We don’t make it very far before Damien appears, blocking our path.

“Allie!” he exclaims. “I’ve been looking for you all night!”

His eyes dart between me and my companion, and then he reaches forward to pull me to his side and press a kiss into my hair. I put my hand on his chest, trying to widen the gap between us.

“Happy birthday, baby,” he says.

“Thanks,” I reply, sharing an uncomfortable look with Mason. “Where are Zoe and James?”

Damien shrugs, unconcerned, brushing some of my hair out of my face, and it takes all of my willpower to not shrink away. “No idea. I just wanted to spend time with my beautiful girlfriend.”

My stare must be burning a hole in the side of his face, but he ignores it, nodding at Mason.

“Oh hey,” he says. “Didn’t see you there. How’s it going, man?”

“Great,” Mason replies sarcastically, before turning to me. “Look, I think I’m gonna head out. Enjoy the rest of your party.”

His last lingering look feels charged with words left unsaid as he turns on his heel and heads for the exit. Disappointment stirs in my chest as I watch him leave, and I want to ask him to stay, but I don’t think he would at this point anyway. Feeling a surge of frustration, I turn to Damien.

“What the hell was that?”

“Huh?”

“You were being totally possessive,” I accuse. “I was just hanging out with a friend.”

Damien scoffs, affronted. “Since when are you friends with that guy? I didn’t think he had friends.”

“Since now. Damien, we’re taking things slow, remember? You can’t treat me like that. I’m not an object.”

He gives me a wounded look. “Sorry for showing that I care.”

“Come on,” I say. “You know that’s not what I mean.”

“Do I?” he says. “Every time I try to get close to you, you push me away.”

“Damien,” I say, my tone sounding as tired as I feel. “Stop.”

“I wanna know why you won’t give me a chance.”

“That’s not fair.”

“How is it not fair?” he protests.

“Because you’re putting so much pressure on me,” I say, pointing a finger at his chest. “And you have zero understanding of how I feel. Being with you is—”

I stop short, exhaling. The pain in my head throbs obnoxiously as the party continues on around us. My unfinished sentence hangs in the air, and I have the desire to either swallow the words and take them back or vomit everything onto the floor.