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My cock is way past the point of being hard, and it’s becoming quite painful behind my zipper. My palm itches to reach down and adjust myself and give it a good, firm rub through my jeans. I refrain, but just barely. The last thing I need to do is give the woman a reason to approach me. What I’m doing, watching the woman of my dreams—literally—practically fuck me with her eyes and the sexy moves of her body is wrong. It’s wrong on every single level. But what makes it okay is that I’m over here and she’s twenty feet away—at least, that’s what I tell myself. If she were to come into my space, I have not a single doubt in my head I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands to myself.
My phone chirps again, and I grit my teeth in irritation. I’m tempted to continue to ignore it, but the back of my head prickles. That uneasy feeling has me ripping my eyes away from Charlotte and spinning on my stool to grab my phone from the bar. When I see my step-sister’s name, that unease changes to worry.
I immediately accept the call and bring my phone to my ear, plugging the other one so I can hear over the music.
“Aleah?”
“B-bryan?” Aleah’s tearful voice comes across the line. “C-can you c-come get me, p-please?”
I’m off the stool and throwing cash on the bar top before I get my next words. “What happened? Where are you?” I growl, already stalking across the room toward the door.
“I’m a-at Wendi’s.”
Hearing the tears in her voice breaks my heart and boils my blood, because it’s obvious something happened. She’s at the party she mentioned last night at Dad’s house. My mind runs rampant at what could be wrong.
“What happened?”
“Can you j-just come get m-me, please?”
“I’m on my way.” I yank my keys from my pocket. “Where are you at in Wendi’s house? Are you safe?”
Her breath fans across the line before she says. “I’m in the shed in her backyard.”
“Are you alone?”
“Yes.”
“Stay there. I’ll call you when I pull up and come to you. Message me the address.”
“Okay.” She hiccups out the word.
I hate to do it, but I need to hang up the phone so she can text me the address and I can plug it into my GPS app.
Just as I reach my car, my phone dings with her text. I unlock my car and grab the handle.
“Dr. Erikson!” a harried voice calls from behind me.
I turn and spot Charlotte jogging my way, damn near tripping in her heels. In my rush to get to Aleah, I forgot what happened over the last twenty minutes before the phone call.
“Is everything okay?” she asks once she’s standing in front of me, panting from chasing after me.
I look down at my phone. “My sister,” I tell her. “Something happened.”
She lifts a hand and rests it on my forearm. I look up at her and see concern darkening her eyes.
“Is she okay?”
“I don’t know.” I grit out. “She called, crying, and asked me to come get her from her friend’s party.”
I reach back for the door handle, impatient to get on my way. “I have to go.”
“I’m coming with you.”
Before I can protest, not that I would because I don’t have time to, she briskly walks around the car. We both slide in at the same time, and I put the address into my phone. A second later I’m whisking out of the parking lot.
* * *
Forty minutes later, I’m pulling up to my dad’s place. Charlotte is in the back seat holding an alarmingly quiet Aleah. My nerves are shot, and I’m surprised I was able to see past the blinding rage roaring through my veins to drive us here.
