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His face contorted in irritation. “You don’t have to be such a bitch.”
I rolled my eyes. “Yes, because a woman who rejects you, must be a bitch instead of, you know, sane and reasonable to not want to catch a venereal disease.”
His cheeks reddened, and he stepped forward, to do what, I didn’t know.
The bar had become more crowded in the time we’d been here. More students had come here to blow off steam, so Stan was busy at the bar.
But the man did not make it any closer to me. Someone grabbed him by the back of that Affliction shirt and snarled, “Walk the fuck away.”
A very familiar voice.
The sleazy guy quickly scuttled off, not even trying to face off against the man who could snap him in two without hesitation.
Now it was just me and him.
I wiped my dry eyes to bring him into focus. It took a couple of tries. There were three of him. Then two. Then Elden materialized in much too stark detail for my liking. Wasn’t that why I was drinking so much? To make the edges of everything softer, blurry so the edges wouldn’t cut me quite so much.
“What are you doing here?” I asked. I had intended on making the question biting, accusing, loud. But it came out quiet and flat. The effort it took to speak and stare at him drained me.
“What do you think I’m doin’ here?” he growled, rounding the table and pulling me from my chair.
I expected him to drag me out of the bar. To curse me for drinking, for being alone in a bar, for whatever else I’d done wrong in his eyes.
But to my surprise, he didn’t do any of those things. He cupped my face in his hands, so gently, and stared into my eyes.
Suddenly, I was devastatingly sober, and all of the feelings I’d been drowning in booze came surging forward.
“Kiss me,” I whispered. “I need to taste something other than tequila and sadness.”
His searing gaze dropped to my lips at my plea, my words so similar to the ones uttered on a rooftop when we were strangers. But he didn’t hesitate like he did then. Not for a moment.
His lips found mine. Not the same way they did on that rooftop, but softer. More knowing. This was not a frantic, desperate kiss.
I didn’t quite know what it was.
His face hovered in front of mine. Music thumped from somewhere faraway. People were laughing, talking on another planet.
We were the only ones there.
“You can’t keep on saving me,” I rasped, breathless.
“Can’t I?” His gaze pinned me, brushing hair from my face. “Because I will. Long after this is over, when you’ve found yourself a different life, a better life … a better man. When I’m nothing but a memory for you, I’ll still be there. Happy that you’ve found what you deserve and watching to make sure no fucker takes that from you. Taints it. Hurts what’s mine.”
My hackles went up, even while my heart grew to an aching size in my chest upon hearing his words. “You mean this future—this ridiculous future that I apparently have no say in—when I’m with another man…” I couldn’t even finish the sentence, sickened by the mere prospect. “When I’m with another man,” I repeated, just because I wanted those sour words, that bitter thought to poison him too, “you think I’ll still be yours?”
His expression didn’t waver, no fury danced in his eyes. “Yes, Violet, you’ll always be mine.”
“I leave you for five minutes, and this is what I find?” a voice cut into the moment.
Both of our heads turned to regard Sariah, looking at us with her hands on her hips. She did not look surprised.
“Took you long enough.” It took me a second to realize she was talking to Elden.
I looked between the two of them.
“You called him?” I asked Sariah, trying to move out of Elden’s grasp. That only served to have him tuck me into his side.
I leaned into him on instinct, comforted by the softness of his cut, the scent that was unique to him.
