Chapter 9 #2
His nose wrinkled when he caught a whiff of the spilled beer all over me, and I wanted to hide in a hole. He looked disgusted. My arms wrapped around my waist as he finally glanced away to address the muscley elephant in the yard.
“She’s clearly drunk,” he said, nostrils flaring in annoyance.
I was not! I mean, I wasn’t going to drive a car or anything, but I was present enough to know if I wanted to play with this guy’s dick.
Wait… I shook my head. That wasn’t the point.
Who the hell did Ezra think he was to judge me or tell me who I could make completely regretful decisions with? The audacity.
“ She’s clearly right here and can speak for herself,” I pouted. It definitely came out a little less bitey than I wanted.
“Yeah,” the guy agreed. “Let the lady make up her own mind.”
See, he got it. I heard Ezra scoff, and my fists clenched in response.
“What part of ‘she’s had too much to drink,’ did you not understand?” he growled, and I swore the temperature around us dropped a couple degrees.
“I haven’t had so much that I can’t make my own decisions on who I want to fuck.”
Ezra spun around in disbelief. His brows rose until I thought they’d fly off his face, but his mouth was set in a firm line.
I crossed my arms, daring him to argue. He thought he could just follow me here and drag me back to the house like a petulant teenager?
I was a grown-ass woman who dealt with her problems in grown-ass ways… usually.
He was definitely deep in my personal space, close enough that I caught the scent of something crisp and fresh, but I refused to back down. His glare intensified, and I met it with the heat of my own.
Asshole, I’m not going anywhere.
He cocked his head to the side, as if he heard me, and then smiled. A sliver of suspicion rose as he stepped back so he was no longer between me and the guy I’d completely forgotten about until then.
“Just as long as you’re home for the morning bottle and diaper change,” he told me, then winked.
My mouth opened and then closed when I couldn’t come up with a response fast enough. “What?” was the only thing that squeezed out.
Muscle Head coughed uncomfortably.
Ezra looked back and forth between us before faking a frown. “She didn’t tell you she’s a mother? Not very responsible when it comes to prevention, that one.”
Oh, I was going to kill him. “You fucking—”
“I-I don’t want any kids.” Muscle Head was backing away, hands waving as if that alone could keep his sperm firmly in his balls.
“Me neither, my guy,” Ezra whined, all sad and pathetic. “But look at me now; up for late night feedings, shitty diapers, and chasing down my baby mama because she only wants to party.”
His hand rested on his chest, and… Was that a sniffle ? He was not—
“It’s so lonely.”
Son of a bitch.
Now, Muscle Guy was glaring at me like I was the worst human on the planet. Fucking fantastic. How was it possible for me to feel guilty when there was no real baby?
“You should be ashamed.” Muscle Guy said, and nodded at Ezra in some kind of bro code. “You should be at home helping him. Not many dudes would be willing to stick around like that.”
He clapped Ezra on the shoulder, prompting more sniffling, and with a final shake of his head at me , he left.
Alone and almost sober at this point, I was at a loss for what to do.
Unfortunately, Ezra wasn’t. Hand gripped tight around my wrist, he dragged me halfway across the yard before I snapped out of it and dug my feet in.
My nails scratched his skin as I tried and failed to get him to let go.
Wet grass, covered in spots of ice, made my resistance slippery and weak.
Oh God, he was beyond pissed. I could almost feel it, like spice in the back of my throat.
My chest pulsed with heat, my skin stung as I rubbed it raw with my struggles, and through it all, my boots crunched over the icy footprints Ezra left behind.
Did he know his magick was leaking?
“Um…”
“Not a word,” he snapped. “Not one godsdamned word, Rani.”
“But I have so many special ones to share with you.” I yanked to try and break his hold, only succeeding in hurting my shoulder.
My yelp brought Ezra to an immediate stop, and he spun into me until there was hardly any space between us.
His tucked chin created shadows across his face as he met my surprised gaze head-on.
The hold on my wrist was light, but still there, so he used his other hand to tenderly press on my shoulder.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he apologized, voice threaded with worry.
It didn’t really anymore.
“I’m fine,” I whispered.
We were a few houses down from the one hosting the party.
Music and laughter spilled onto the street, but not loud enough to keep this conversation from happening.
Ezra looked down as his fingers released my wrist, one by one.
His hand hovered nearby, like he found it difficult not to be touching me.
Or, he wanted to be close enough to grab me again if he needed to.
“Do you know what I thought when the protection barrier went off and I couldn’t find you?” he asked. “Do you have any idea how terrified I was?”
I didn’t need to see the crease in his brow or the pain in his eyes to know he was sincere. I felt it in his words. Something stretched between us, winding through the tension until it hooked its way into my heart and pulled . Ezra grunted at the same time I did.
“What the hell was that?” I groaned, rubbing my chest.
For the first time, he avoided my gaze. Fuck. Was that me ? Had my magick escaped and hurt him somehow? Before I could apologize, he cleared his throat and set his jaw. He waited until he caught my eye once more, and not even another zing in my chest could make me look away this time.
“This shit is ending now,” he swore, and just like that, my anger was back.
“What exactly do you think is ending?” I was proud of how steady I sounded. Despite the violent thoughts multiplying behind my deceptively calm exterior.
“This!” he snarled and waved a hand toward the party. “I know what you were trying to do tonight, and while I understand, it’s got to stop.”
I shook my head and stepped back. He couldn’t know.
Guilt and shame fought to smother me under his perceptive scowl.
It was almost as bad as him witnessing my panic attack.
If he knew how weak I really was, I couldn’t bury it and pretend it wasn't true. He was forcing it into the light, and I wasn’t ready to deal with that yet.
Rage surged forward so fast I could do nothing but fall into it.
It burned away the hurt and the fear, protecting me like it always did.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I growled. “I just wanted to get out of the house and have a little fun. Which you interrupted.”
He rolled his eyes. Actually rolled them.
“There was no way you were going to have fun with that walking meat stick back there. He’s not your type.”
I forced a laugh. It was that or scream. “And you think you know my type?”
His smug smile set me off. I swung before I even realized I’d made a fist. Ezra easily
blocked me, catching my hand like it was nothing more than a petty slap. This time, he didn’t let go.
“You were running from what happened this afternoon.”
Denial. I lived in denial because I didn’t know where else to hide. My other hand came up and actually grazed his cheek before he pulled his head away. Snatching that fist too, he held both my hands hostage until it clicked in my panicked haze that I wasn’t going to be able to run away this time.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to scare you, I truly didn’t, and I will apologize every other sentence if that’s what you need to hear to trust me again. But you can’t use what happened as a crutch to not move forward.”
He pulled me closer until my hands rested on his chest. My fingers instinctively curled into his shirt and held on.
Warm palms gently skimmed my arms, up past my elbows and shoulders until they sank into my hair.
Ezra was hugging me. A thick knot of emotion clogged my throat as I sank into his arms.
When was the last time someone hugged me? When was the last time I let them?
He drew back just enough and rubbed his thumbs gently across my cheeks.
I knew exactly what he saw. No amount of makeup could hold up to this level of scrutiny.
The dark circles under my eyes were now a permanent fixture on my face.
Concealer did a good job at muting the harsh purple, but I swore it got worse every morning.
I knew I was pale, no matter that it was the middle of summer and I had nothing to do but spend all my time under the sun.
He could probably tell I’d lost weight as well. I was surprised this skirt didn’t slide right off my hips. Being blessed with a great ass was the only thing that saved it.
“Be mad at me. Hate me ,” he pleaded. “Whatever you need to do to not hate yourself. Put it on me, babe. Because I can’t stand to see you wither away anymore.”