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Cy ignores them all, jumping right off the stage and making a beeline through the tables. Women scream and reach for him, running their hands over his chest and tugging at his belt as he strides past. He walks through them as if they don’t even exist, his eyes locked on me. “Holy shit,” Benny says. “Oh my God. Is he looking at you?” “I would say so,” I squeak, clutching my drink like a lifeline.
