The three of us stared at each other in the sudden, deafening silence.The reality of the situation came crashing down.We hadn’t just poked the bear; we’d lit a stick of dynamite in its mouth.
"I should...probably go," Shay said, scrambling to his feet.He looked genuinely spooked.
A sharp, authoritative knock—no, it was a single, thunderous boom—rattled my door on its hinges.It wasn't a request for entry.It was a demand.
Felix was already pulling on his jacket, his face pale."We're dead.We're so dead."
Before any of us could move, the doorknob twisted and the door burst open.
Henry stood in the wreckage, silhouetted by the hallway light.His suit jacket was gone, his tie loose, and his hair was disheveled as if he’d been running his hands through it.His chest was heaving.His eyes, wild and dark, found mine across the room and pinned me in place.He looked nothing like the controlled billionaire.He looked feral.
How did he get here so fast?
He pointed a finger, steady as a gun, at Shay and Felix."Get out."
They didn’t need telling twice.They fled without a backward glance, leaving me alone with him.The door clicked shut.
He walked toward me, each step a measured threat on my dirty floor.The air crackled, thick with his anger and the scent of my spilled beer.He stopped a breath away, his gaze sweeping from my terrified eyes down to my lips, which still felt the ghost of Shay’s staged kiss.
"Explain," he commanded, his voice a low, dangerous growl.
The fear evaporated, burned away by the sheer, magnetic force of his presence.He was here.In my space.Because of me.
I lifted my chin, trying to mimic his own cool defiance, but my voice wavered."You told me not to be dramatic.I was just following orders."
A muscle ticked in his jaw.His hand came up to cup the back of my neck, his grip firm, unyielding, a brand of ownership.
"Do not," he said, his voice dropping to a husky, possessive whisper that vibrated through my very bones, "ever let another man touch you like that again."
His other hand fisted in my hair, tilting my head back, forcing me to meet his stormy eyes."The next time that man touches you," he whispered, the words a promise and a threat, "it will be the last thing he ever does as a professional athlete.I will end him.Do you understand me?"
I could only nod, my whole body trembling, caught between terror and dizzying, reckless triumph.He was jealous.He was furious.He cared.
A grim, satisfied smile touched his lips."Good."
And then his mouth was on mine.
