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“All right enough,” Tristan growls before grabbing the backs of Kaleb and Jayson and hauling them apart. The feat is quite impressive considering both Kaleb and Jayson are nowhere near small guys, and I’m reminded once again not to fuck with the tattoed devil.
Kaleb kicks out at the movement, his suit jacket seconds away from being shredded by Tristan’s fist. His dark irises scream murder and I don't think I’ve ever seen Kaleb this angry before. His pupils are impossibly dark, like he swallowed the night whole and I can't stop the light layer of sweat that covers my whole body at the pure malice radiating off his skin. Blood trickles down his chin and I have the sudden urge to wipe it away, to erase the sticky substance from his skin.
My prince was falling, sinking into black waters of despair, and all I could do was stand here and watch him as he drowns.
Like a coward, I turn towards Jayson, unable to stomach the sight of my dark monster's blood. Jayson's right eye was already puffy and I could make out several dark bruises beginning to swell along his chiseled jawline like spoiled grapes.
I scowl.
The two were like stray dogs with impulse control issues and I’d be lying if I said I wasn't fighting the instinct to hand feed them some Nyquil and a cold compress. Both needed to pass the heck out and sleep off whatever madness had possessed them for the evening.
Shrugging out of Tristan's grip, Kaleb doesn't even bother looking my way before stomping towards his truck and slamming open the door. His keys rev the engine and I jump at the sound, the noise snapping me out of my shock and causing my heels to unglue themselves from their spot on the sidewalk.
“You better go with him.” The words are Tristan's, and I look to see him still holding Jayson. His knuckles white from the sheer power of the grip he had on the blue Armani suit. I’m positive Jayson would have his head if anything happened to the designer garment and am shocked the blond playboys allowed Tristan to hold him so long. Tristan must truly be one deadly son of bitch.
“He’s not going to leave without you,” Tristan repeats again, nodding towards the running truck, and I turn to see that Kalebs already opened the passenger door for me. The metal hanging off the hinges in what appears to be an open invitation.
“Just go.” This one from Jayson, the words slippery around the blood filling his mouth. Rendering myself useless standing here on the curb, I make my way towards the open door before slipping inside. Still not speaking, Kaleb reaches over and silently slips the buckle over my chest. His fingers graze my breasts, and my breath all but evaporates out of my lungs.
“Safety first Blondie.” He snaps the buckle in place and I look into his dark eyes. His hair was combed back tonight, his curls dancing across his forehead in a way that made me want to sweep them back with my fingers. He was so painfully handsome it was hard to look at him. I actually hated him for that. Hated him for a lot of things. But most of all I hated him for the way he was looking at me right now, as if he could see every thought that's ever run through my head, and still, he wanted to hear more. Like I was the most fascinating star in his dark universe.
Stupid boy should not be able to melt me with such eyes. Should not be able to melt my defenses and cause heat to spread throughout my lower belly. All with just a stupid little look.
“Careful Blondie. If you keep eye fucking me like that we’ll never make it on time.” His words jar me out of my haze and I blush furiously before glancing out the window. A soft chuckle fills the cab and my face turns into a full-blown tomato. His laughter turns earnest at the sight and I watch out of the corner of my eye as his freshly cut knuckles grip the wheel.
I couldn't believe he got into a fight. And with Jayson of all people. His fuse was shorter than a two-year-old who didn't get the lollipop they wanted at Disneyland.
“So you have a temper,” I state, and I curse at myself internally for the complete and utter lack of filter I seemed to possess. The words echo in the cab like bloody fish in shark-infested waters, and I tense, waiting for the deadly sea creature to bite.
His knuckles tighten further on the wheel and I notice we’re now going sixty in a twenty-five-mile per-hour zone. He's still not looking at me, his eyes entirely focused on the road, which only infuriates me more.
“Look at me,” I command, searing his sinfully attractive side profile with my gaze. His jaw twitches at my words and I know his temper is flaring up strong enough to burn through flame-resistant pjs but I don't care. He has barely glanced at me since appearing on my doorstep and I wanted to know why. I deserved to know why my dark god decided I wasn't good enough to look at.
Was the dress not good enough for him? Did he not like the way it fit? Was the arrogant boy bored with me already?
The silence stretches for another three minutes and I can't take it anymore.
“Look at me!” I yell, my cheeks flaming so red I can feel the blood circulating through my veins.
When he doesn't respond I lose it, pounding my fists against his chest hard enough to bruise. My hand connects with his cheek and I recoil from the sound of flesh stinging flesh. Furious at his stubborn silence, I pull on his perfect raven hair until it breaks and I realize I'm screaming, completely unable to stop the words from leaping out of my mouth,
“Look at me damn it!”
Finally, his eyes meet mine, his black crashing into my blue, and then we’re spiraling, his foot slamming on the brakes, the tires of his truck spinning out until we’re sideways in the middle of the road. Cars honk their horns at us and I’m left gasping, my knuckles gripping the end of my dress.
His eyes search mine, their depths burning me with dark intensity, the subtle rising of his chest the only indication that he was affected at all by our near-death experience.
“Are you crazy?” I yell, my voice squeaking in panic, “You could have gotten us killed!” his eyebrows crinkle at that and his mouth opens to say something but I cut him off,
“Why won't you look at me? All night you’ve been avoiding looking at me in this dress? Why?” The question slips out and I release how absurd it sounds. My insecurities are crawling at me like needles and I hate this version of myself. I hate the shell I’m retreating into due to vain lack of praise. But for some reason, I’d like to not look so closely at, Kaleb's opinion of me matters. When the hell that happened I didn't know. All I knew was that it was too late to take it back. The words and the feelings attached were powerful enough to bring me to my knees.
My words hang between us and I’m just about to reach for the door handle when the dark devil of my heart responds,
“I can't.” The words are muffled, almost growled.
“You can't do what?” I say losing patience.
“Look at you.” The words hit me like I’ve been slapped and I recoil.
