A muscle of his jaw ticked. “I’m just stating the truth. Only a loser leaves their friend alone after she just got targeted by some drunkards.”

“He didn’t leave me. He-he just went to take a phone call,” I defended. “And I’m his girlfriend, not just a friend.”

His eyes flashed, nostrils flaring as he cocked his head. “Not for long.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, confused.

He stepped closer, making me stumble back. And then another until my back hit the wall, his towering figure blocking my escape.

“W-what are you doing? Step away.” The intense gaze of his had my heart skip. His intoxicating cologne filled my lungs. He needed to create some distance between us. It was too much.

Placing his hands on the wall, on both sides of my head, he leaned in; my heart thudded inside my chest. “I meant, you will not be his girlfriend for long.” Determination flashed across his eyes.

“How do you know that?” I whispered. His proximity was doing something to me.

When he brushed my cheek with his knuckles gently, a treacherous shaky breath left my lips. And then the bruise of his knuckles caught my eye. As I was about to ask him of his injury, my breath hitched at my throat when the pad of his thumb traced my bottom lip.

“You won’t be, because—” leaning in, he whispered in my ear, hot breath tickling my skin, “—you already belong to someone else.”

What?

My thoughts were everywhere, I couldn’t think straight.

To be able to comprehend his words, I pushed him away, building some distance.

“D-don’t come that near me ever again! And what do you mean by I already belong to someone else? Who are you talking about?”

He stayed quiet. The look in his gaze sent a shiver down my spine. I gulped.

No, no! It’s not what I was thinking. I must have misunderstood his eyes. After all, assuming wrong probabilities had ruined my entire childhood once. I wouldn’t make the same mistake again.

“You will know, soon.”

Again, incomplete answer.

I opened my mouth, but the pompous cheers and loud announcement cut me off. The race was finished, and the winner’s name could be heard from the gallery outside.

I looked at him. “Looks like the title ‘loser’ suits you more now.” My lips curved up at the winner’s name while he remained silent. “My condolences on your loss. Poor Jordan and the jockey, they tried hard, you know? Sometimes fate just doesn’t support you everywhere.”

“Em, you’re done?” Warner asked, appearing at the exit. Putting his phone in his pocket, when his eyes landed on Ace, confusion flashed over his face. But then he smiled. “Hello, Mr. Valencian.”

And Mr. Valencian stood still as a stone. His gaze on Warner was unreadable.

Jerk!