Hannah
With a fresh scowl now etched onto my face, I strode away from Noah, the rapid clicking of my heels against the marble floor echoing the pounding of my heart.
Are you drunk already, he had said. All because of what? Because I was polite to Drake? Because I was affectionate toward him?
Bastard, I thought to myself. Bastard.
Before I could escape into the crowd, however, a light tap on my shoulder brought me whirling around. Speak of the devil—there stood Drake himself, his lips curved up into that handsome, albeit serpentine, smile.
“Luna Hannah,” he murmured, dipping into a shallow bow. “Might I have the pleasure of this dance?”
A refusal danced on the tip of my tongue, but something in Drake’s glacial stare gave me pause.
With a curt nod, I extended my
