Chapter 16
Elijah
That was not how I thought my night was going to go.
With the house quiet, I'd been hoping for time alone with Willow—a chance to talk.
To clarify what happened last night, before it became awkward between us, she walked in wearing that dress.
It was red, lethal, clinging to her every curve and showcasing her perfect tits.
Those heels… Jesus. They made her legs look impossibly long, a painful assault on my restraint.
I can just imagine them wrapped around my head.
My body reacted before my brain could catch up—the low, aching pull in my gut that made me want to step closer, to grab her, to have her here, now.
I should have turned away. I should have said nothing. But the thought of her out there—other men looking, touching what I want made me possessive and a complete dick.
I’m not controlling. That's not me. But this… this is different. She isn't mine. And that fact alone is enough to make me insanely jealous.
I want her badly. More than I've wanted anything in a long time. I wanted to pull her into my arms and never let go. To feel the heat of her skin against mine as I claim her, the soft brush of her hair against me as she rides me into oblivion.
“Shit.” I scrub my hands over my face, rubbing at my temples. I’m so wound up, I don't even finish my drink. It's been over an hour, and she could be anywhere.
I’m such an idiot.
I should've gone after her straight away, swallowing my pride and dragging her back here to tell her the truth: that I've wanted her all this time.
I’m searching for my keys, already bracing myself to drive around all night if I have to, when my phone starts ringing. Ezra's name flashes across the screen.
I answer, immediately hit with the thump of bass and loud voices. “Mate, this summer party is absolute madness.”
I'd completely forgotten about his event at the bar tonight.
“Sounds like it,” I mutter distractedly, scanning the room for my keys.
“I thought you were here.” he laughs, sloppy and loud. “Guess not.”
“Why would you think I was there?” I ask absently.
There's a brief pause. “Because Willow is, and damn, she's looking fine as hell.”
I stop dead.
“She’s where?” My grip tightens on the phone.
“She's here, and she's having one hell of a time.”
The only good thing about this is that I know she isn't far or in a ditch somewhere.
“What is she doing, Ez?”
“Well,” he drawls. “Right now? Grinding on some bloke on the dancefloor—which, by the way, is packed. Mr Nobody will dance on it.”’
Red flashes behind my eyes as I shove the door open and head outside. The image hits hard—some guy's hands on her, her body moving against his—it makes my skin itch with rage.
“She's with a guy,” I bite out, unlocking the car. “Ez—keep him away from her.”
He whistles. “Someone's jealous.”
“Just do it,” I snap, already sliding into the driver's seat, jaw clenched so tight it aches.
Nobody gets to touch what's mine.
The bar is packed. I've never seen it like this before.
The air is thick with sweat, alcohol, and a bass that rattles through my bones.
Flower garlands hang on the walls, cheap and cheerful, while inflatable balls bounce among a group of rowdy guys.
Coloured lights strobe overhead, and I'm fairly certain there's a bubble machine going off somewhere near the DJ booth.
Turns out he didn't need to advertise it.
I cut straight through the crowd toward the bar, zeroing in on Ezra, who's flirting with a tall blonde with legs for days and a laugh that carries over the music. He spots me straight away.
“Hey, bro,” he grins happily, already reaching for a shaker. “You look like you could really use a drink.”
He pours something neon yellow into a glass. No chance in hell am I drinking that.
“Where's Willow?”
She is all I care about right now.
He jerks his chin toward the dance floor, sliding the glass towards me. “Still dancing with that bloke.”
A low growl slips out before I can stop it. “I told you to keep him away from her."
Ezra lifts his hands in surrender. “Oi, I tried, alright? She told me to fuck off, and honestly? One look at her boobs gave me a boner.”
I level him with a look.
“Those things should come with a warning label,” he carries on.
I hope my mum's okay with only having four sons, because one of them is about to be brown bread.
Judging by the way Ezra shifts uncomfortably when I don't say a word, he clearly realises that if he speaks about her like that again, it won't end well for him.
“Relax,” he says hurriedly. “I didn't touch her. Scout's honour.”
I narrow my eyes. “You were never a scout.”
“I think I’d make a pretty good Boy Scout,” he slurs, downing his drink, some of it running down his chin. I roll my eyes at him. The blonde who was glued to his side is long gone, and I doubt he even noticed.
“Good luck with your girl,” he winks, pointing towards the very crowded dance floor.
My girl sounds good, I just wish she were.
There she is.
Heat sears through me, white-hot rage that pounds at my chest. Jealousy, raw and unrelenting, twists through my gut. I have never felt this way about Rose. Never.
She's grinding up against some idiot who has two left feet, arms draped around his neck, his hands shamelessly gripping her ass.
My ass.
Call me a caveman, but this woman is mine.
Before I can even gather a shred of composure and approach this with any sense of control, he kisses her. And she kisses him back. My chest constricts, my heart beating, and the world collapses into a single, burning pulse of red.
Instinct takes over.
I shove him with a punishing force, dragging Willow to my side. Her surprise flickers for a heartbeat before her eyes ignite with defiance, a spark of annoyance that makes my blood thrum. Stray strands of hair cling to her damp forehead, her skin shimmering from the heat and relentless dancing.
Beautiful brat.
“What the fuck, man?” the idiot shouts at me, eyes bloodshot and wild—far more than alcohol should account for. He takes a step in my direction, but he wobbles unsteadily, nearly losing his balance.
Willow tugs at my arm, but I keep my focus on him.
“You don't get to touch her,” I warn him. A few people have stopped to watch us. If this guy knows what's good for him, he’ll walk away, or my brother will be breaking up a fight tonight.
He turns to her, licking his lips like a fool. “He… your boyfriend?” he stammers.
By the end of this night, she will be.
“Elijah,” she snaps, stepping directly in front of me, her glare as heated as the fire in my chest. “What the hell are you doing?”
“Stopping you from making a mistake with that prick,” I shoot back, not breaking eye contact.
“That's not your call to make.” She plants her small hands on my chest. “I told you that you don't get to control me. Now leave.”
Behind her, he smirks.
“You've got three seconds to come with me.”
“Or what?” she challenges, chin lifting, defiance threading her tone.
“You’ll find out.”
I feel it. The slight twitch of her fingers against me. She knows I’m not kidding, and part of her likes the thought of what I might do.
The idiot must have a death wish. He grabs her shoulder and pulls her around to face him.
My hands grip her hips before she can stumble on those ridiculous heels, making sure she's steady on her feet before stepping fully in front of her, blocking him from view.
“Touch her again,” I warn. “And you'll be leaving here without teeth.”
I’m ready to haul her over my shoulder; she's had more than three seconds now, and I need her. God, I need her so bad.
“Alright, time to go.”
“You are not—oof,” she gasps as I sweep her up over my shoulder, the weight of her pressing against me. I clamp my hand over the hem of her dress, making sure she doesn't flash anyone.
She smacks at my back, trying to push herself upright, and I jostle her, keeping her right where she is. I’d deal with the attitude properly by spanking her if we weren't in the middle of a packed bar—this isn't the place for that lesson.
“You can have her,” the idiot sneers behind us. “I can find a better pussy with a prettier face.”
My spine locks instantly, every muscle going rigid, and I instantly want to pummel this guy into the ground.
The bloke clearly has a death wish. The way Willow freezes tells me he's landed the hit he was aiming for. He's upset her.
That's a mistake he won't get to make twice.
I look at him, my expression smooth, almost detached. Nothing like the violence coiled tight beneath my skin.
My fist cuts through the space between us, landing square against his nose.
There's a dull crunch beneath my knuckles, cartilage giving way, followed by a loud crack that turns heads.
His body jolts backwards, momentum stealing his balance as blood immediately follows, and he folds with a broken shout, hands scrambling to his face.
I don't even wait because he has had enough of my time, and he doesn't get to look at her anymore. I’m through the crowd in seconds, not slowing as the cool night air envelops me and I reach my car.
“I can't believe you!” she shouts, thumping against my back. “Put me down. Now.”
“With pleasure.”
I open the passenger door and set her down roughly. She lands with a startled yelp, legs shifting on impact, and I have to clamp my jaw shut at the brief, distracting flash of her green thongs before I slam the door closed.
“Asshole,” she snaps, banging her palm against the window.
I slide into the driver's seat, deliberately ignoring the way she glares holes into the side of my face. I start the engine and pull away from the curb without another word.
“Where are we going?” she demands.
“To talk.”
She lets out a scoff, folding her arms. “I don't want to talk. Especially not with you.”