Chapter 9
The noise and ruckus was overwhelming. I shut in on myself, hiding behind the broad back currently blocking me from what's happening around us.
Glass shatters somewhere nearby and the body whips around, large arms encasing me as something causes him to jolt forward. Something must have hit Alex in the back but he doesn't even flinch.
Instead, he studies my face and then my body, eyes scanning me from head to toe with concern.
Something warm pools in the pits of my belly as I hold on to the sides of his shirt, my fingers skimming his waist slightly.
He doesn't say anything, instead he grabs hold of my arm and then ushers the rest of us through the corridor that leads out back. There are people blocking the door but one look at his towering figure has them scurrying away like mice.
He kicks open the door and waits for my friends and I to head outside first. Yonah got into a scuffle behind us but he managed to escape unscathed, and now my friends and these two men are standing here in the dimly lit alley.
Stacey bends over gasping, whilst Elizabeth is scanning the alley look more uncomfortable than ever. Danielle is on the phone with Luke, who informs us that her boyfriend is on the way.
I catch a silhouette in the distance, one that grows more clear once he approaches us. Lucas Alvaro grabs Elizabeth and holds her to him tightly, his face filled with panic.
"Are you alright? God, I knew it. I should have joined you girls tonight." He holds her at arms length inspecting her from head to toe and I think about the way Alex looked at me just now in the bar.
For some reason, the two of us share a look, before I quickly break eye contact and pretend to focus on the lamp welded to the wall.
"It was supposed to be girls night. None of us expected this to happen." Elizabeth justifies before moulding herself to her boyfriend's side.
"If it's girls night...then who are these two?" Lucas shoots a dirty look at Alex and Yonah.
The two men don't even bat an eyelid at his sentence. Alex stands tall, his hands tucked in his pockets non chalantly, like we didn't just escape a brawl in the bar that may or may not have hurt him.
"We're students from Daltech. Classmates," he nods at Stacey who is still shaking her head in disbelief.
"There's never been a fight at the Dirty Martini before. I can't believe this happened. It's...it's...it's insane."
"Fights happen." Alex's voice has a deep baritone that carries through the air like a command. He takes a step forward, towering over the rest of us, seemingly larger than life itself even though he's only slightly taller than Lucas.
"Instead of waiting around here, I suggest we take you girls home. We're heading back to Daltech, I could give you a ride." He looks at me pointedly, like the offer is meant only for me.
I shift my feet on the ground, thinking of a way to decline politely. A small, ridiculous part of me actually wants to accept.
"It's fine. The girls will come with me." Lucas counters, and the two have some sort of silent stare down while the rest of us stare at them awkwardly.
"They saved us, Lucas. If it weren't for Alex and Yonah, we could have gotten hurt." Stacey berates and adjusts the straps of her dress. "Lead the way." She turns to Alex, her decision made. Of course, she'd choose the person she's most attracted to.
"Luke's coming. I'll probably spend the night with him." Danielle says and so that leaves me with Stacey, who has suddenly decided it's safer to travel with two strangers than our friends.
I hesitate, not only because of the unknown but because I'm nervous around Alex. His presence, his touch, his scent, it's all so overwhelming.
"Daphne?" Elizabeth asks, watching me closely.
"We're fine girls. Go ahead. There's going to be no third wheeling tonight." Stacey digs her fingers into my arm and pulls me towards Alex, and for the life of me, I could have sworn I saw a smile on that gorgeous face.
Stacey stumbles slightly and I notice she's slurring her words more. Yonah helps her walk along the uneven stone tiles and somehow that leaves me with Alex, who falls in step beside me.
I shoot a look at Danielle, Elizabeth and Lucas, who are walking behind us, heading in the direction of the street.
I have two options now, grab Stacey and run away from the New Yorkers with great difficulty - because a tipsy person's dead weight is no joke - or I could follow these two men and risk our safety.
But then again, didn't they just save us?
I shake my head, just as we stop outside a sleek black executive car - the type I would expect a politician to have.
Yonah helps Stacey settle in the back seat and I follow suit. I switch on my location, knowing that Elizabeth can track my movements now and then slump against the very comfortable material.
What a day? The Dirty Martini has been our safe zone since we joined Daltech. It's always been the go to spot for Daltech students, long before we joined.
I cast a look at Stacey who is watching the streets go by, her eyes glazed as she blinks profusely, until she finally succumbs to sleep.
I put a hand on her thigh in reassurance and then look ahead, but then I catch Alex looking at me through the rearview mirror.
"What?" I blurt.
"Nothing," he murmurs, shifting his focus back to the road.
"Is your back hurt?" I ask him reluctantly, urging his gaze back to mine again. That deep penetrating stare that feels like he's peeling past layers of clothes, skin, right down to my very vulnerable core.
I shift uncomfortably, unable to hold his gaze for long.
"It's fine. Must have been a bottle or something. Barely left a scratch."
"Thank you. For helping us back there." My words are soft and I resist the urge to look at him again, my fingers digging into my palms because all I want to do is stare.
There's a long pause, making me wonder if he didn't hear me but then Yonah speaks. "No worries, Daphne. After all, we are friends, right?"
He turns around from the passenger's seat and I force myself to smile. "Yeah, sure."
No one speaks after and I take the time to study the interior of the car. My hands stroke the buttery soft leather seats. Dark brown trimmings line the doors and there's a fold-down armrest fitted with chrome-lined glass holders.
It looks like the type of car important men have inconspicuous meetings in, with crystal glasses and expensive whiskey.
How did two Daltech transfer students end up with such a luxurious car? I look at Yonah, who keeps glancing nervously at Alex and Alex who has one hand on the wheel, another on his lap - the epitome of calm and collected.
"What company did you say your fathers worked for?" I ask and Alex looks up at me but this time his gaze is guarded, not invasive.
"We didn't."
"W.P Bank and Subsidiaries." Yonah answers in a more friendly tone.
I spread out my arms, letting them lie on the spacious arm rests. "Interesting."
"What's so interesting about that?" Alex asks brusquely, sounding like he's losing patience.
"Must be a high level position. For their sons to drive around a car like this."
The two of them share a look before Yonah speaks again. "It's a company car. I actually borrowed it without my father's permission."
He shrugs at me helplessly and I nod, choosing to drop the topic. For now. I'm tired and all I want to do is go home and wait for Aaron to call me again.
There's so much I need to tell him. So much left unsaid between us. I check my phone once more and the screen is blank. No new messages from him.
We finally reach Daltech and Alex stops the car in front of the girls dorms. Yonah gets out first and is quick to help Stacey.
I bolt out of the car and grab her from him, startling both Yonah and Stacey, who opens her eyes briefly.
"I can take it from here. Thank you very much."
There's a slight struggle that occurs then and there, between Yonah and I.
"It's too heavy for you, Daphne. Let me help." The Russian accent slips through again and I hold on to my best friend tightly, even though her weight is making me tip over.
"I'm fine." Stacey whines, shaking herself off the both of us. She then stumbles up the stairs herself and I hurry after her, in case she falls or something.
Ax expected, she trips on the stairs and nearly crashes into me. All I can do is hold my palms up in front of me and curse inwardly at how she can't handle her drinks. This is such irresponsible behaviour. I brace myself for the impact but it never comes because Yonah reaches out to steady her.
He holds her gently by the arm and guides her upstairs. Alex stands behind him, watching this whole escapade with disinterest. He shakes his head and by passes me, following Yonah and Stacey to the second floor.
"What now?" I ask, catching up to him. Even though I know he's a judgemental asshole, I can't help myself from asking.
"You're a very tense person. You know that? Such an undesirable trait."
"What do you mean?" I frown, blinking up at him.
"You clearly can't handle your drunk friend, who's practically double your height. What was the point of that useless argument back there? In the end you needed our help anyway."
My cheeks heat up again as anger surges through me. I feel like slapping his face.
"First of all, I'm not that short. She's in heels." He smirks when I say that, making me even angrier. "Second of all, I'm not tense. I'm just protective."
I march past him and nudge him out of my way with my hips. He has the audacity to chuckle and the worst part is he's still behind me, even as I reach our room.
Yonah is a gentleman. He doesn't touch Stacey inappropriately, only helps her to her bed where she collapses. But the same can't be said for his friend.
"Thank you for your help, Yonah." I exaggerate his name on purpose. Alex stands outside, scanning our room silently. His gaze pauses on my dirty laundry where my clothes practically pour out of it, along with the black dress I haven't washed yet.
He's probably judging my cleanliness now.
I walk over to the door, eager to shut it in his face. Once Yonah exits, I bid him goodnight, purposely ignoring Alex who stands closer to me.
"You see," Alex points out, gesturing to my shoulders. "So tense."
I slam the door in his face and turn, marching toward the mirror by our wardrobe. My shoulders are drawn up, tight with tension. I frown at myself before deliberately forcing them to relax.
Asshole.