My Bestie's Dad Likes Me Wet-Chapter 48 YOURS

Nova POV

The bass hit me in the chest before the doors to the dancing floor even opened, a heavy pulse that felt like it wanted to crawl up my spine and shake my ribs loose.

Lena had her arm looped through mine like I was some reluctant date or maybe she thought I might back off at the last minute.

Katie strutted a step ahead, like she owned the sidewalk. Her Jessica Rabbit dress caught every flash of neon from the club sign, hugging her curves and moving with her. I could feel it the way I imagined guys do, like her presence pulled the air toward her, and for a moment, I couldn’t look away.

Meanwhile I kept my chin high, my burgundy bob grazing my shoulders, and pretended this wasn’t the most exposed I’d ever felt in my whole twenty one years on earth.

Even my most luxurious and daring billionaire romance novel didn’t prepare me for this kind of feeling.

Inside was chaos dressed as beauty. Strobe lights painted everything in strokes of red and violet, bodies moved like they’d all signed an invisible pact to forget who they were, and the smell of perfume, sweat, and smoke clung like second skin on each Costume wearing people in the room.

The club was a mess of extremes. Some people wore outfits that left almost nothing to the imagination, while others looked like they’d raided a Halloween store.

Guys had their shirts unbuttoned, muscles and tanned abs on full display, leaning against walls or moving through the crowd like they owned it.

The women were just as bold with sequins, leather and daring cuts that made everyone else fade into the background.

I let my gaze roam about and for once, I didn’t want to analyze. I didn’t want to be Nova-the-overthinker or Nova-the-girl-caught-between-two-devils. I wanted to melt into the music, blend into strangers who didn’t know my name, let my hips answer questions my brain wouldn’t dare ask.

"Drinks first," Katie announced, her voice already raised to compete with the music.

I nodded, though I wasn’t thirsty. What I needed was space between me and my thoughts. What I got was a glass shoved in my hand a minute later, condensation slick against my palm, and the burn of tequila slipping down my throat before I could talk myself out of it.

It hit quick enough, loosening my shoulders, untangling that knot in my chest but I felt somehow woozy.. all thanks to rarely taking alcohols but it’s a necessary evil if I plan to loosen up tonight.

On the dance floor, Lena found her rhythm instantly as expected. Her movements were fluid and seductively dangerous, while her Catwoman claws and tail dragged attention her way.

Katie, predictably, had half the room staring, tossing her hair back like she’d been hired to test the limits of gravity with her boobs being the main character on display tonight.

And me?

I let the beat own me.

Not gracefully at first because I was awkwardly stiff and somehow too aware of my own limbs. Because of course I’m not a natural ballerina.

Soon enough the bass swallowed me whole. And it was like my own body remembered it was allowed to feel good and explore different movements as My hands slid down my thighs, my hips rolled like I’d been waiting to betray myself like this.

And when I finally tilted my head back, burgundy strands sticking to my sweaty neck, I felt... free.

For the first time in weeks, I wasn’t Luca’s pretty puppet or Grant’s unfinished business. I wasn’t the girl chasing after a flash drive that carried the weight of my parents’ ghosts.

I was just Nova, a twenty something girl, messy, alive, moving like maybe the world didn’t already have plans for me.

A random guy came up behind me, pressing close like the music gave him permission. His breath grazed my ear, hot and heavy, the kind of move that was supposed to make me melt into him. Instead, it made my skin crawl. I shoved him off without even looking back.

I wasn’t here for some stranger’s hands on me. I already had two men tangled up in my world, and that was more than enough. Tonight wasn’t about them or him. Tonight was mine

The music slowed into something darker, heavier, and I caught sight of myself in a mirrored wall. The girl staring back didn’t look like me. She looked sharper, sexier, dangerous. Like the version of me I never let see daylight. And for once, I didn’t hate her.

I smirked at my own reflection, let my fingers trace the curve of my hip, and kept moving to the slow beat.

••••GRANT POV

Jay’s intel had better be right. I don’t waste my nights sitting in sticky-floored clubs, surrounded by cheap perfume and drunk laughter.

But when Lena’s guard casually reported something about dropping the girls off on an "overnight costume thing" that the girls were too excited to shut up about, I knew I wasn’t passing that up.

So here I was, stretched out in the corner booth of the VIP section like a king forced to sit among peasants.

Whiskey sweating in my hand, cigar smoke curling around me, I looked down over the crowd. Bodies grinding, lights strobing, bass rattling ribs. None of it interested me.

I wasn’t here for the club. I was here for her.

And this night pulled me back to the first time I saw her, the night everything tilted, like the ground had slipped out from under me. I’m not the type for pretty words, never have been, but I can admit this little nymph stirred something in me I didn’t think could change.

And then the room had shifted when she walked in.

Nova.

Flanked by Katie in red and Lena in black, but none of that mattered because the second she hit the lights, every head in the damn building snapped her way. Including mine and I wouldn’t have recognized her at first glance if not for her friends and the fact that anytime she’s nearby something seems to tug at the void that was once my heart.

She looked like she was damn well poured into that skin-tight blue second-skin, like her whole body had been painted and sealed.

Her Burgundy bob caught the strobes around, while her perfectly made up cheekbones were lit and well defined even in the low quality light. Her eyes looked wider and tempting but dangerous. I saw her hesitate just for a breath but then I saw her own it.

My girl!

The sway of her hips was reckless, and the smirk that pulled at her lips... God. She was killing me and she wasn’t even doing it on purpose.

I could see the vision clear, her hips grinding down on me slowly, milking every drop until I was buried so deep she’d never forget who owned her. That image burned itself into my skull, and I wasn’t about to let it fade. With me and Nova, there’s no question of if. It’s only a matter of when and when it happens, it’ll be on my terms

She was dressed up as Mystique. The irony. She wanted to play dress-up, pretend she was untouchable? That’s Fine. But she looked too fucking good doing it.

I tightened my grip on the glass until the whiskey nearly sloshed over. Every man in that room looked at her like she was theirs. My jaw ticked. I don’t like that.

She wasn’t theirs. She wasn’t Luca’s either. She was mine. She doesn’t even belong to herself as much as she did belong to me.

And yet here I was, sitting back, watching her laugh with her friends like she didn’t leave me hollow. Watching her twirl under the lights, cheeks flushed, eyes bright, like she’d never known my bed. Like she’d never ruined my sleep.

Pathetic.

She thought this was freedom?

A costume, a splash of hair dye, a crowded dance floor crawling with drunk boys sporting hard-ons they wouldn’t even know what to do with?

Pathetic. She had no idea what real freedom was or how fast I could take it from her.

That wasn’t freedom. That was borrowed time.

I leaned back, let the smoke trail from my mouth, and watched her move. Every line of her body was temptation, and every second I let her prance around without reminding her whose name she should be screaming was another second I hated myself.

Jay was right. Tonight was the opening I’d been waiting for and Luca not being here was an advantage I can’t help but appreciate.

The girls got pulled apart, each one swallowed up by different groups of guys circling in, trying to dance with them. And there was Nova, right in the middle of it, wild, laughing and shining like she belonged, when all I could see was a pack of wolves closing in, each one stupid enough to think they had a chance

I drained the last of my glass and set it down slow and deliberately while I signaled to the waitress for another, like a man settling into a game he knew he’d already won.

She wanted to play costume tonight? Fine. But I’d strip her down to bare skin before the night ended.

I’d been watching her for an hour and that’s long enough to know she was buzzing hard from the music, the liquor, the thrill of playing bad in her blue second-skin. Long enough to know her friends had slipped off somewhere long ago probably chasing trouble of their own.

And long enough to see the pack of vultures circling her.

Three of them circled her, drunk and sloppy, like she was some prize they couldn’t leave the night without.

I’d been content to watch from a distance, but something snapped the second one of them reached for her waist, another sliding a hand along her arm, testing, daring, pushing further.

Nova tried to laugh it off, her smile faltering as she edged back, but the third one had already cut her off, pinning her against the bar like she was theirs to corner

That’s when I moved.

By the time his greasy fingers touched her wrist, my hand was on his throat. I slammed him back into the counter so hard glasses rattled. His friends froze, staring up at me like prey caught in headlights.

"Touch her again," I said, my voice low, steady, deadly. "And I’ll make sure you leave this place with broken fingers you’ll never use again."

The idiot swallowed hard, nodded. I shoved him off, and they scrambled like rats.

Nova’s chest was heaving when I turned back to her. Her lips parted in a sharp inhale, eyes wide in shock but not fear. No, she knew me too well for that.

"Grant..." her voice cracked, half disbelief, half something else.as she quickly glanced around, probably to ensure none of her friends saw us together.

I stepped closer, close enough to get back her attention and cage her between me and the bar, my hand braced against the counter beside her hip.

"Did you really think you could walk in here dressed like that and not have every man in the room wanting what’s mine?"

Her brows shot up, defensive even when her pulse jumped against her throat.

"Yours? Don’t flatter yourself. I don’t belong to anyone."

My jaw ticked, and I leaned in until my breath fanned her ear.

"Keep saying that, baby. Say it until you’re blue in the face like your outfit But we both know—" my eyes dragged down her body, slow, deliberate "—you dressed like this because you wanted me to notice."

She sucked in a breath, her back pressing into the bar as if it could hold her upright.

"You’re delusional."

I smirked.

"Maybe. But here’s the difference between me and every other man in this room: they want you because you look like sin tonight. I want you because even when you look like hell, I can’t fucking stop."

Her lashes fluttered, her lips parting like she wanted to argue, but nothing came out.

I reached up, tugged lightly on a lock of her burgundy bob, rolling the strands between my fingers.

"New hair. New costume. New mask. But underneath it?" I tilted her chin up with two fingers, forcing her eyes to mine. "You’re still the girl who ruins me without even trying."

Her breath caught, shaky, betraying her.

"Now tell me again," I murmured, my voice dropping to a command. "Whose are you, Nova?"