The Year I Stopped Being His novel Chapter 64

Another doctor chimed in, half-joking, "Are you sure you aren't a musician who got specially recruited by Professor Harrison? Talk about a woman of many talents."

Dean Quinton stood nearby, his heart skipping a beat at the sight.

He had met Sloane once and knew she was Garrison's wife. He just hadn't expected her to show up like this, nor had he anticipated the massive wave of attention she would command.

He quickly let out two dry coughs, putting on a stern face as he walked over to break up the young men's flirting. "Alright, alright, stop swarming Ms. Taylor. She is Dr. Foster's... ahem, an important partner from our collaborating team. Show some professionalism!"

The young doctors obediently took a few steps back, but not before pulling out their phones. "At least let me add your number."

Garrison took it all in. Watching the gentle, polite smile Sloane offered the young doctors, he felt a blazing inferno ignite in his chest, burning through his composure.

He wanted nothing more than to storm over, grab her by the wrist, and drag her away from the crowd.

At that moment, Quinn's face was drained of all color. She gripped her wine glass tightly, her fingertips turning ice-cold.

Everyone's attention had been stolen by Sloane.

Against the pure, effortless magnetism Sloane possessed, all the glitz and glamour of the gala felt incredibly forced and tacky. Suddenly, the seductive burgundy dress Quinn wore felt painfully desperate.

Worst of all, Garrison's eyes had been glued to Sloane the entire time. The swirling, intense emotions in his gaze were something Quinn had never managed to evoke in him.

Standing beside her, Lydia saw her friend's humiliation and despair clear as day.

But in a split second, a figure reacted faster than the warning shouts.

Josh, who had been standing silently at the edge of the crowd, lunged forward the moment the waiter stumbled. His arm shot out in a swift, commanding sweep.

He didn't try to block the falling glasses. Instead, he yanked Sloane forcefully into his chest, simultaneously twisting his body to form an impenetrable human shield between her and the flying alcohol.

Crash!

The sharp sound of shattering glass and splashing liquid rang out. The champagne completely drenched Josh's suit jacket and shoulder, crystal shards scattering across the floor.

Safely tucked in his embrace, Sloane was entirely unharmed, save for a few stray drops on the hem of her gown.