I practically bolted from Steve’s side, my pulse racing as if I’d narrowly escaped something dangerous. Maybe I had—because the idea of rejecting someone scared the absolute life out of me. And then there was the creeping panic, the sudden thought that he might be following me. God, that would be a nightmare. The last thing I needed tonight was a stalker.

Lost in my anxious thoughts, I barely noticed when my foot caught on something—probably a misplaced bag or the edge of someone’s chair—and for the second time tonight, I was on my way to the floor. The universe had clearly decided it was going to keep things as dramatic as possible. This time, I didn’t even bother trying to brace myself. There was no way I’d get lucky again.