Chapter 2 #2
He moved to block me again. “Where you going so fast? Party’s just getting started.”
“I’m just trying to find my friend.”
“Your friend?” He grinned, and I could smell the alcohol on his breath. “You mean Ryder Black? Come on, everyone knows you two aren’t really together. He’s just too nice to tell you he’s not interested.”
My face burned. “Excuse me.”
I tried to push past him, but his hand shot out and grabbed my wrist.
“Hey, don’t be like that. I’m just trying to talk to you.” His grip was tight, almost painful. “You’re really pretty, you know that? Way too pretty to be wasting your time on a guy who doesn’t want you.”
Fear spiked through me, cutting through the pleasant buzz from the alcohol. “Let go of me.”
“Come on, just give me a chance—”
“I said let go!” I shoved at his chest with my free hand, but he was so much bigger than me, so much stronger.
He laughed, and then suddenly I was falling. My back hit the ground hard, knocking the air from my lungs, and panic flooded through me as he loomed over me.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” he said, and there was something dark in his eyes that made my blood run cold.
I opened my mouth to scream, but before I could make a sound, a growl ripped through the air.
Not a human sound. Something primal and terrifying and absolutely furious.
Derek was suddenly gone, tackled away from me by a blur of motion. I scrambled backward, my heart pounding, and watched in shock as Ryder slammed his fist into Derek’s face.
Again.
And again.
Derek tried to fight back, but he didn’t stand a chance. Ryder was faster, stronger, and absolutely savage. Blood sprayed from Derek’s nose, and he made a horrible gurgling sound as Ryder hit him again.
“Ryder!” I screamed, finally finding my voice. “Ryder, stop!”
He didn’t seem to hear me. His eyes were wild, almost glowing in the firelight, and I could see his hands shaking with barely controlled rage.
A crowd had gathered, people shouting and pulling out their phones, but no one was brave enough to get between Ryder and his target.
I pushed myself to my feet, ignoring the pain in my back and the way my hands were shaking. “Ryder, please!”
I ran to him and grabbed his arm, and the moment I touched him, something shifted. He froze, his fist raised for another blow, and then slowly turned to look at me.
His eyes were definitely glowing now, an eerie blue light that should have terrified me but somehow didn’t.
“Em,” he breathed, and his voice was rough, almost broken.
“I’m okay,” I said softly, keeping my hand on his arm. “I’m okay. You can stop now.”
He looked back down at Derek, who was groaning and bleeding on the ground, and I felt the tension in his body. He wanted to keep going. Every instinct in him was screaming to finish what he’d started.
“Please,” I whispered. “For me.”
That did it. He lowered his fist and stood, pulling me against his chest. I could feel his heart racing, could feel the tremors running through his body as he fought for control.
“Matt!” he barked, and one of his friends—a tall guy with sandy hair who was one of Ryder’s cousins—appeared at his side. “Get him out of here. Make sure your dad knows what he did.”
Matt’s expression darkened. “Consider it done.”
He grabbed Derek under the arms and started dragging him away. The crowd was dispersing now, the show over, people muttering and whispering as they went back to their drinks and their dancing.
“Come on,” Ryder said quietly, his arm tight around my waist. “Let’s get you out of here.”
He guided me back to his Jeep, and I let him, still shaking from the adrenaline and the fear and the shock of seeing Ryder lose control like that.
He opened the passenger door and helped me in, his hands gentle despite the blood on his knuckles. Then he rounded the Jeep and climbed into the driver’s seat, but he didn’t start the engine. Instead, he turned to me, his eyes searching my face.
“I’m sorry I ruined your party, Ryder,” I said, my voice small.
His expression twisted. “You didn’t do anything, Em. It was that idiot, and he will be dealt with.” His voice was hard on the last part, promising retribution that made me shiver.
Then his gaze softened. “Are you hurt?”
I shook my head automatically, but when he reached for my arm—the one Derek had grabbed—I couldn’t help the small wince that escaped me.
Ryder’s jaw clenched. He gently pushed up the sleeve of my cardigan, revealing the red marks on my wrist where Derek’s fingers had dug in. They’d probably be bruises by tomorrow.
“I’m going to kill him,” Ryder said quietly, and I believed him.
“Ryder—”
But he wasn’t listening. He lifted my wrist to his lips and pressed a soft kiss to the red marks, so gentle it made my breath catch.
My entire body flushed hot. The tingles that always came from his touch intensified, spreading like wildfire through my veins, and suddenly I was hyperaware of everything.
The way his lips felt against my skin. The way his thumb was stroking the inside of my wrist.
The way he was looking at me, his blue eyes dark and intense and filled with something that made my heart race for an entirely different reason.
The air in the Jeep felt thick, charged with an electricity that made it hard to breathe. Ryder was still holding my wrist, his lips just barely touching my skin, and I could see the war playing out on his face.
He wanted to kiss me. I could see it in his eyes, in the way his gaze kept dropping to my lips and then back up again. In the way his breathing had gone shallow and quick.
I wanted him to kiss me. God, I wanted it so badly I ached with it.
“Ryder,” I whispered, and I didn’t even know what I was asking for.
His eyes flashed that eerie blue again, and for a moment I thought he was going to do it. Thought he was going to close the distance between us and finally, finally kiss me the way I’d been dreaming about for months.
But then he dropped my wrist like it had burned him and turned away, starting the engine with shaking hands.
“I should get you home,” he said, his voice rough and strained.
Confusion and hurt crashed over me. “Ryder—”
“It’s late. Your parents will worry.”
He pulled out of the field and onto the road, driving faster than he normally did. His hands were white-knuckled on the steering wheel, and he wouldn’t look at me.
The drive back to my house felt like it took forever and no time at all. When he pulled into my driveway, he barely put the Jeep in park before he was saying, “I’ll see you tomorrow night. For the cliffs.”
“Okay,” I said quietly, trying to understand what had just happened. Why he was suddenly acting like he couldn’t wait to get away from me.
I climbed out of the Jeep, my heart heavy, and he drove away before I even made it to the front door.
I stood there in the driveway, watching his taillights disappear down the street, and felt tears prick at my eyes.
He’d wanted to kiss me. I knew he had. So why had he pulled away?
Why did it feel like he was running from me?
And how was I supposed to survive him leaving for college when I couldn’t even survive one night of him pushing me away?