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“I’m not going anywhere.” His anger falls without impact as I stay calm and unaffected. My steel box remains untouched in its dark corner of my mind. He cannot scare me away. He has no power over me. Only she does.
His form seems to deflate at my lack of emotional response. Without me rising to the fight or cowering beneath its strength, his rage abandons him and leaves him defenseless, even if only for a moment. His glassy gaze stays focused on Wicked, and I see dozens of different thoughts and emotions fly across his face before he yanks back on his defenses and is once more flooded with fury.
The glass shatters in his hand as his temper reaches a boiling point and I simply wave over one of the waiters to help the dumbass out. With me unable to be affected by him, his rage snaps out at the poor guy just doing his job. Where he couldn’t get a hit in with me, I see the guy blanching in fear and regret. Like it was his fault.
I have to mentally kick at the steel box inside of me as it shakes and threatens to open due to the mistreatment Nic doles out uncaringly. While he busies himself cleaning out the glass in his skin, I calmly stand and slide a fifty in the young man’s hand with a curt apology on Nic’s behalf. He scampers away after thanking me, his eyes pricking with the beginnings of unshed tears.
Turning back to the table, I watch as Nic simply returns his attention back to Wicked and Kai, his bloody hand wrapped in a small hand towel. The man is a mess, though he won’t ever admit it. He’s lost, but feigns he knows the way.
He’s in love, but it isn’t selfless.
I grab the bottle and glasses I brought over ahead of time, knowing I would need them, knowing that it’s the key to unlocking the man hidden behind this bullshit façade he tries to maintain. Pouring an unhealthy–but needed–amount in one glass, I ignore the second one. That’s just backup in case he breaks this one as well. Think ahead and you’ll want for nought.
“Drink.” I offer it to him, finding my seat once more as he snatches it away with a half-hearted ‘thanks’, his focus solely on the writhing, sweaty forms of Wicked and Kai. Thank God that most of the families with kids and older guests have abandoned the wild night and left it to the young and unfettered to be as uninhibited as they please. And the other half of our group is taking as much advantage as the rest of the celebrants.
It brings a lightness to my soul to see them without the ever-present shackles of the stresses and worries that have burdened us of late.
“Octomore?” My lip pulls up slightly as Nic recognizes the drink and chooses to engage with me voluntarily.
I’m in.Now onto the next phase.
“Yes.”
“The ten year?”
“Yes.”
“You’ve got good taste.” I do, but that’s not why I chose it. I know Nic couldn’t resist a delicious smoky scotch as surely as I couldn’t resist the pull Wicked has had over me since the moment I first saw her.
I choose to hold back for the moment, letting him indulge his tastes and self pity. It’s a dance–a game–one that he didn’t know he’s been playing from the moment he took Wicked out onto that dancefloor and almost fucked everything up.
At the vicious thoughts that pervade me, I take an inner glance at my steel box, noticing the leak–the frustration–trying to escape and rise to the surface. That won’t do.
I’ve never had such an issue with controlling the security of my emotions, never before have they managed to find a crack in the system and sneak out. At least, not before Wicked. Ever since my lips touched hers, she’s owned me, she’s destroyed me from the inside out. But, unlike Nic, I welcome the change. I know that with her, after we have fully come together as we are meant to be, I’ll be stronger for it. She will protect my box, she will add to its armor. With her, I will be a better man. I’m not afraid.
Noticing Nic frown down at his now empty glass, I pass him another and take the empty one without a word, his content and equally drunk grunt being the only response I get. That’s okay. I know it’s working. He’ll strike his anger–his hate–out at me but that’s only a mask he sets in place to conceal his true feelings. Even from himself.
I leave him be once more, watching as Kai whispers in Wicked’s ear, her skin a beautiful shade of pink from a combination of the exertion of her movements and the words he speaks. Kai’s gaze suddenly finds mine across the room and he grins wickedly before biting her earlobe and letting his fingers graze up the bottom of her little black dress just a little bit higher than they already were. Her head falls back listlessly against his shoulder and even though I’m too far away to actually hear, I swear I catch the sweet sound of her moan anyways.
My cock tries to rise to the occasion and I shift in my seat to hide the obvious growth in my pants, instantly slamming the lust invading my senses back into the steel box it belongs in as Kai returns his attention back on Wicked completely.
What a little shit.
“Feel better?” I question Nic and get back to business. I can have fun once the job is done. Never before.
“Didn’t know you were one to talk much.” I think he tries to say the words with malice, but his accent and tone come out thick and heavy, almost too much to understand him. I don’t take offense to his words, he has no power over me. Not until he’s earned it.
“I’m not, but we need to.”
“Good luck.” I’m unsurprised when he chokes out a sarcastic laugh and takes a large drink once more, his eyes glazing over as he gazes at the glass. “Fuck. We need to stop drinking.”
He takes another drink.
This is just too easy.
“I’m not drinking tonight.” As if I would make the mistake of leaving Wicked vulnerable while we all cave to the seductive pull of the bottle. Not that I drink much as it is. It makes me too chatty.
“Smart man. Good man. You protect her. Smart man.” Nic stumbles over the words, talking nonsensically, and the anger is absent.
