UNDER THE SPOTLIGHT Chapter 13

In the latter half of the party, Serena got a little drunk and pulled me out to the balcony for air.

The night breeze swept in. She leaned against the railing, the slit of her gown baring her thigh—so sensual I couldn’t look away.

She studied me, voice low. “Ethan, Chloe’s into you. You know that, right?”

I froze, then gave a rueful smile. “Serena, I don’t know what she’s thinking.”

She stepped in close, pressing her body to mine, the softness of her chest flattening against me, perfume flooding my senses. “Ethan, you’re mine. Don’t let her take you.”

Her hand slid to my waist and tugged, pulling me fully into her arms.

Her mouth found mine again—urgent, fierce, a staking of claim.

Heat roared through me. My hand slipped into her gown, tracing her smooth back, feeling her shiver.

She sighed, voice like a drug. “Ethan, don’t go tonight. Stay with me.” Her fingers teased at my waistband, sending my blood surging.

But clarity hit and I eased her back. “Serena, not here. Chloe’s still around.”

She faltered, something complicated flickering in her eyes.

“Ethan, you’re still too innocent.”

She straightened her dress and returned to the party, leaving me alone on the balcony, the fire in my chest burning hotter.

The party’s aftertaste hung like fog, clinging to me, refusing to lift.

Serena’s kiss on the balcony, Chloe’s teasing gaze, and Mr. Grant’s naked hunger looped through my mind like scenes from a film.

Back at my rented apartment, I lay on the bed, thoughts in a tangle.

The fever of that night left me both excited and uneasy. I knew I was already in too deep to pull free.

The next day, the office buzzed as usual.

Mr. Warren called me into his office and tossed me a file on a new artist.

“Ethan, this is Maya, nineteen, just signed. You take her on. Teach her the ropes. Keep her out of trouble.”

His tone carried impatience, like he was offloading a hot potato.

I nodded and took the file, a knot in my chest.

I left his office for the practice studio. Maya was dancing in front of the mirror in a fitted sports top and shorts, sweat trailing down her neck, tracing the lines of youth.

Her movement was unpolished but vibrant—like a flower just opening, too pure to touch.

“Hi, Ethan!”

She stopped when she saw me, offering a shy smile.

Her eyes were clear as a lake, reminding me of myself when I first moved to Los Angeles—full of dreams, clueless and raw.

“Hey, Maya. I’m your manager. If you need anything, come to me.”

I kept my tone light, but her smile made my heart skip.

We talked for a bit. She told me she was from a small town, chasing the dream of becoming a singer.

Her innocence moved me—and worried me. This industry is brutal to girls like her.

After practice, she tripped. I instinctively caught her.

Her body was soft; the fabric clung to her skin, sweat-lit under the studio lights.

My hand hovered at her waist for a second, heat pulsing through my palm as my heartbeat kicked.

“Thanks, Ethan!” She steadied herself, cheeks flushed, smiling with guileless joy. I let go quickly, masking my unease. “Careful. Don’t hurt yourself.”

That night back at my apartment, I lay awake, unable to shake Serena’s shadow.

That night at the hotel, her body was a blaze that ignited every last desire in me.

Velvet Heat