Smoke and Stack had vamped up the old sawmill into their very own Juke. It was all swell, until you come ‘round like you got a right to. Like you belong in the same air Smoke breathes. And maybe you do—but you ain’t supposed to.

Not with a ring on his hand and Annie in his heart. Not with that look in your eye that say you ain’t afraid to ruin him if he let you. His jaw clenches, teeth grinding as he forces himself to ignore your presence, but you’re there and like a magnet his gaze keeps coming back from his position on the ramp looking over everything. He takes a slow drag of his cigarette, the smoke coming out in a low draw. You came here tonight despite all the times he told you you were just a quick thing in the midst of grief, walking in wearin’ somethin’ soft and wrong, and suddenly his silence feel like a lie.

You don’t dance with nobody else tonight. Just sways near the shadows, stealin’ glances. Like you know he’s watchin’. Like you want him to break.

And when he gets the will to go over to you, he finds you alone, tucked quiet behind the bar, you don’t flinch. Don’t run. Just waits.

Smoke step close—closer than he should. Voice calm. Cold, almost.

“You always where you ain’t meant to be.”

You lift your chin like it’s a challenge.

“Ain’t nothin’ for you here,” He says. You just looks at him. Like you don’t believe him for a second.

He leans in, breath slow, steady, full of everything he shouldn’t be feelin’.

“You think I don’t see what you do? You think I don’t notice?”

A pause. His eyes drop to your lips, then snap back up like touchin’ would damn him outright. “You tryna make me lose everything I got?”

“You wanted my attention?” A beat. “Now you got all of it. Now tell me… girl, what you gon’ do with a man you ain’t supposed to have?”