Chapter 195

Hannah

“I think you know, Hannah.”

I stared at Drake, my mind reeling. Was he implying he had feelings for me? It couldn't be; he loved Zoe, and we were just friends. Surely, I was reading too much into this. Yet, my heart raced, leaving me speechless.

Finally, I stammered, “But… what about Zoe?”

Drake sighed, running a hand through his slightly ruffled hair. “Zoe and I… I think we’re just not a good match,” he admitted, leaning against the veranda railing. He paused, shaking his head, and looked up at the sky. “I’ve given up on rekindling things with her. It’s over.”

“What do you mean?” I frowned. Just a week ago, he’d been eager for a date with her. “Did something else happen?”

He pursed his lips. “I think… Zoe wants a strong alpha to pamper her,” he muttered, his eyes distant. “And I’m… well, I’m not in a position—nor do I want to—do that.”

I raised an eyebrow. “What makes you think that’s what she needs?”

Drake shrugged. “After that failed date, I talked to her for a long time. She said a lot, but I could tell—deep down, she wants to be pampered, treated like a princess. And I’m not sure I want to do that for anyone.”

My mouth hung open. The independent, job-searching single mom Zoe wanted pampering? It was shocking.

“So you’re saying…”

“I’m saying,” he said, glancing at me, “that I prefer someone strong, independent, someone who works hard. Someone like…”

His voice trailed off, his gaze lingering on me. We stood in silence, the implications heavy in the air.

“I guess that means I’m released from my contract to help you win her back?” I murmured, attempting levity, though my voice cracked.

A ghost of a smile touched his lips. “Yeah, I suppose it does.”

Relief washed over me. One less complication. But nothing was ever simple, was it? “But Drake,” I said, shaking my head, “if you’re implying what I think you’re implying…”

His eyes locked onto mine, intense and unreadable. “Hannah, I—”

“There you are!”

Noah’s voice made us both jump. I realized how close we were—Drake had moved closer without my noticing. I stepped back quickly, my heart pounding.

“What are you two doing?” he asked, glancing between us.

Drake smiled easily. “Just talking.”

Noah narrowed his eyes skeptically but didn’t press—not yet. “The photographer wants a group photo,” he said curtly. “Come on, Hannah. You need to be next to me.”

I glanced at Drake, who gave a small nod. We’ll talk later, his gaze seemed to say. I wasn’t sure I wanted to. Maybe I just wanted to be alone.

Swallowing hard, I followed Noah inside. He slipped his arm around my waist, pulling me close. The heat of his body against mine sent a shiver down my spine, and my stomach twisted.

“Noah—”

“I don’t want to know,” he growled, his fingers digging into my hip. “Just stay by my side. That’s all I ask.”

My face flushed, but I didn’t protest. We joined the other guests, Noah keeping his arm firmly around me as we posed. Just before the flash, I looked at him.

He looked cool and collected. Yet, there was something possessive, territorial about the way he held me. And as I looked back at the camera, I caught Drake’s eye across the room. He watched us with an unreadable expression.

Noah must have noticed, because his grip tightened. I felt my cheeks flush, a mix of embarrassment and something else—something dangerously close to arousal.

The rest of the party was a blur of small talk and forced smiles. My swollen feet ached in my heels, but I maintained a pleasant expression. Not in front of Zoe, Noah, or Drake.

Finally, the last guests left. I sank into a chair with a sigh and kicked off my shoes.

“Oh, Goddess,” I groaned, rubbing my aching soles. “I thought they’d never leave.”

Noah loosened his tie as he walked to the sofa. A long silence followed as I rubbed my feet and he unbuttoned his shirt. When he turned, his eyes flickered to my feet and then to my face.

“You good?” he asked gruffly.

I shrugged. “My heels were hurting.”

Noah looked at me for a moment. Then, to my shock, he knelt before my chair and pushed up his sleeves.

“Here,” he said, patting his knee. “Put your feet up. I’ll give you a massage.”