That was a lot of work just to win a dance with me. But this was about more than a dance. He’d made some sort of claim on me. I sensed it every time I was around the other guys from St. John’s. None of them hit on me. None of them asked me out. And as I stood here, watching boys in tuxedos lead girls in glittery gowns on and off the dance floor, not one of them invited me to dance. Not a single pair of eyes turned my way. That was Tucker’s doing. I was certain of it. Without telling me, he’d taken me off the market and declared me as his.
