Becoming His (20 page)

“Do you guys want to dance?” Abby asks, motioning to the dance floor.

Landon nods in response, inclining his head, motioning for us to follow him.

We begin dancing, slowly getting a feel for the crowd and each other. Whether it’s the pulsing music or the shot of Jose they took, things seem to quickly loosen up and it’s not long before we’re laughing and having a good time. Thankfully I become too distracted to search for Max—at least for a while. When the urge returns, I motion that I’m going to the kitchen for more water, declining when they offer to come with me.

“Hey, I saw you dancing out there. You’re really amazing,” a deep voice whispers in my ear as I fill a red plastic cup with water. I close my eyes and take a long drink, hoping ignoring this guy will give him a hint.

It doesn’t.

His hand reaches forward, lightly touching my elbow.

“Thanks, it’s the shoes!” I reply sarcastically, pulling out of his reach as I fill my cup again. I learned pretty quickly not to smile or laugh when a guy hits on you when you aren’t interested; it only encourages them.

“I’m pretty sure it’s the dress.” His voice no longer a quiet raspy whisper, but a familiar deep voice that has me spinning around in shock.

“It’s the dress, it’s the dress!” I squeal, laughing, as I throw my arms around Pedro Rodriguez, a good friend of mine from high school. He lifts me up, releasing a growl as he squeezes me tight.

“How are you?” I ask as he sets me down. His dark brown eyes gleam with excitement, and his infectious smile shines bright, making my own smile grow.

“Good, good! I’m heading back to Arizona State in a couple of weeks, so I had to come enjoy some end of summer fun!” I nod, smiling. “What about you, beautiful? Whose heart are you breaking tonight?”

“All of them!” I answer with a wink. “I’m going to head back to the dance floor. Do you want to come? Kendall’s with me, and my best friend Abby. You’ll love her! Oh and a couple of guys that are my neighbors’ buddies are here with us. They’re cool though.”

“Alright, let’s go make them all jealous!” He takes my hand in his and I feel the warmth of his skin as his arm brushes against me.

He leads us back toward the living room when my eyes find Max making his way through the crowd, wearing a lightweight gray shirt with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows and a pair of dark wash jeans. His eyes are on us as he continues streaming through the last few people. He takes a step and cuts in front of Pedro and stops.

Max’s eyes focus on me, starting at my face, then slowly drift all the way down and back up just as slowly. He’s never deliberately checked me out before, and the action sends a chill through my spine and has my pulse racing. I want to close the last few steps between us and slowly run my tongue along the strong edge of his jaw. It feels like I’m physically suffocating myself to not move forward and touch him.

“Hey, Miller, long time no see. I heard you were up in Alaska. Are you back for the summer?” Pedro greets him as I work to nonchalantly extricate my hand from his.

Max gives a brief nod. “No, I’m enrolled to start school in San Diego, with Ace,” he says, nodding toward me, but his eyes don’t follow.

“We were just going to find the others. You want to come?” I ask, trying not to sound hopeful.

“No, I just came from there. I think I’m going to check out the rest of the excitement, get a drink.” I smile, trying to hide my disappointment.

As we pass one another, my eyes flash to my hand as I feel his fingers brush against mine causing a spark to run up through my arm. I watch his knuckles touch mine, his index finger traces along the same pattern, catching my pinky before his hand falls. His focus is still trained forward, not looking at me. Watching the space between us grow with each step we both take in opposite directions causes a physical ache in my chest.

When we find the others, Kendall bounds over to Pedro and I watch the disappointment flood Jameson’s face before she moves to stand beside him again and completes a brief introduction.

A catchy remix starts to play that has everyone moving. More people have arrived making the dance floor so tightly packed it’s difficult to decipher who you’re really dancing with. I turn to face Abby, and we sing along to the music, laughing, and dancing with Pedro behind us both, until a cute guy begins dancing closer and closer, and I watch as Abby gets pulled to him like the tide.

It isn’t long before a pretty brunette swoops in and begins running her hands up and down Pedro’s chest, diverting his focus.

My eyes blink several times and my movement stops at the sight of Landon and Abby making out. I take a couple of breaths before looking for Kendall to see if she’s paying attention, but she and Jameson are engaged in a make out session a few feet away.

My eyebrows rise as I look between the four of them one last time and then turn with the intention of taking a break.

“Looking for me, bonita?” Pedro asks, coming up behind me.

“I thought you traded me in for a brunette?”

“No, you know me. I’m all about blondes.” He winks and wraps his hand around mine. We begin dancing as a new song blasts through the room. It seems to be getting louder, and with all of the noise and movement, it’s not long before everything fades away, my mind focusing on the beat of the music and my body as it moves with Pedro.

After a while Kendall and Abby find us, sans the guys, and all three of us dance with Pedro, laughing and having a good time.

I
fan my face and motion that I’m going to head outside. Pedro nods, indicating his interest in joining me. We slowly filter our way through the crowd. We don’t manage to get far before a guy from Pedro’s class encases him in a hug. It’s obvious he’s drunk as he loudly tells Pedro how much he misses him. I nod my head toward the back door, silently informing him that I’ll meet him outside. Pedro’s eyes scrunch with reluctance before he nods and raises a single finger to show he’ll only be a minute.

My tunnel vision glasses are on, not wanting to see anything but the sky, as I slide through arms and bodies, heading for the dining room that goes out to the backyard. I can see the doors and feel the relief they promise when two large hands grip my hips and pull me backwards. The fingers dig too deep, too rough to be friendly, yet I still expect to see a familiar face as I try to crane my neck around. I stumble slightly as the arms pull me backwards so I’m tightly pressed against a hot, sweaty body reeking of cheap cologne and beer.

“Hey, baby!” The deep foreign voice growls as he clumsily tries to dance against me. One of his hands bars me to him while the other roughly paws at me. I turn again and catch sight of his dark buzzed hair and large, round head that is completely unfamiliar.

“I’ve retired for the evening.” I pull away from his sweat-drenched shirt.

“I’ll retire you,” he slurs with a grin and grips my arm, roughly tugging me forward, making me once again stumble as my chest collides with his. My eyes narrow as I take a closer look at his heavy stature and cocky grin that makes my blood boil.

Cringing as his hand slides across my jaw, he mumbles something I can’t hear over my own objections and the music. He’s bigger than I am, but he’s also drunk, and I feel repulsed. My palms lie flat against his chest and I shove against him. He grunts and smiles before locking his arms around me.

“Stop! Let me go.” I try to sound tougher and braver than I feel. I push against his shoulders again and he barely budges. His eyes slowly look down stopping at my chest; my body is pressed too close to his to see any further. I watch his mouth curl, but it looks like a sneer, making my stomach turn violently.

I suddenly hate my dress and the fact that it accentuates my body. As I struggle against him, my mind races to recall self-defense moves.

Strong hands suddenly grip the top of my arms and pull me backwards with an aggressive tug that has me stumbling to catch my balance. My eyes widen in shock as I see Max hurling himself at my assailant. Even over the raucous noise around us, I clearly hear the sickening pop as Max’s fist connects with the guy’s jaw and knocks him to the ground.

He stands up much quicker than I expect. Watching that hit and hearing the sound it made, I was afraid Max had seriously injured him. Before I can finish processing what’s about to happen, he lunges at Max, shockingly fast for a guy his size, and two others follow suit, grabbing for Max’s arms.

“Max!” I scream in horror as one of them works to restrain his right arm.

The hands that hold me fall, and Jameson charges toward them, landing a punch on one of the guy’s back, near his kidney. My eyes divert back to Max as another swings and connects his fist with Max’s stomach. I feel myself slouch as if I was the one hit. Max doesn’t seem to flinch as he drives his fist into the guy’s stomach in return.

I’m frozen, unsure of what to do. Growing up with four sisters, fist fighting is still quite foreign to me. If I’m ever at a party where a fight breaks out, I take that as my cue to leave.

One of the guys grabs Max’s arm again and pins it to his back. The stranger struggles to maintain his grip and reaches for his other arm. I watch as Max tries to shove him off, spewing curse words and threats before hitting him in the face with the back of his head. Amazingly, the guy doesn’t release his grip, even as his nose bleeds. The guy that had initially grabbed me, stalks over to Max, and the stranger behind him pulls tighter on his arms. I know from watching too many fight scenes in movies what’s going to happen next.

I don’t hesitate. I launch myself forward, creating a barrier between him and Max. Adrenaline courses through me as I try to focus on Caulder’s voice, calm and clear in my head.
“Just knee them in the balls. They’ll drop to their knees, and then run.”

“Ace!” Max yells from behind me. “Get the hell away from here!”

But I can’t. My shoes feel like they’re cemented to the ground. Not from fear, but from the unexplainable need to protect him. The guy in front of me rotates his upper body, and I square my shoulders, reaching out to grip his, as Pedro flies in front of me tackling him to the ground. Within seconds he’s straddling the guy and waling on his face.

I whip my head around to ensure that Max is fine; he looks possessed. Landon appears next, and I see him punch the guy that has been holding Max’s arms. Blood now pours from both his nose and his mouth. My eyes don’t know where to focus as punches and threats are exchanged.

“Get her out of here!” Max yells, shoving me toward Landon. Landon nods and grabs my waist, lifting me over his shoulder before I can object. He carries me a few feet back before depositing me on my feet.

“Landon, someone’s going to get hurt!” I yell, trying to shove my way around him.

“What in the hell?” Kendall shrieks. I turn as she grabs my face with both hands and looks me up and down, but I repeatedly tell her that I’m fine.

“What happened?” she asks, her eyes following mine, though I’m sure hers find Jameson as mine lock on Max. I watch as his fist repeatedly connects with the guy that originally grabbed me. The guy’s face is bleeding and already starting to swell, yet Max isn’t slowing down.

“Landon does someone need to stop him?” Abby asks.

“Let’s go. Cops are probably going to show up,” Landon says, grabbing one of Jameson’s arms. Jameson straightens himself out, and they both walk to Max. Each of them grab an arm and pull him back. Pedro gives a final blow to a guy, and then he too goes to help them pull Max away, but it’s like he’s on autopilot.

“Max!” I yell, stepping closer now that no one is there to restrain me. “You’re going to kill him, stop!” I yell as he lands another punch on the guy’s face. I grab his arm that Jameson already works to restrain and can feel the tension in his entire body.

His eyes snap to mine; they’re cold, dark pools I don’t recognize, and I shake my head. “Stop. Please stop.” Unexpected tears burn in the back of my eyes as his begin to register recognition. He drops the hold that he has on the guy’s shirt. My hand falls from his arm as I turn to make my way to the front door. I need to get out of here.

“Ace!” Max’s voice calls out, and I feel the unfamiliar urge to stop and wait for him. Logically I know he just saved me—from what I’m not sure. I won’t allow my mind to go down that dark rabbit hole, but I know he protected me. The whole situation is just too overwhelming to process right now.

I hear the others calling to both Max and me as I weave through the crowd, focused on the front door. As I get halfway through the living room an unfamiliar guy wraps his arm around my waist and begins dancing against my side, pressing his pelvis into my hip and delivering a friendly smile. I push away and shoot him an icy glare. He backs away, apologizing.

The interaction slows me down enough so Max catches up with me, and I feel his hand on my lower back, following me through the remainder of the house.

I take a few gulps of the evening air. It’s cool against my sweat-dampened skin. Max’s hand grips my elbow and directs me forward as a few people pass to join the party.

He guides me over to a bench sitting under a large tree, and my body falls against the wooden planks. My head tilts back so I can take in the large expanse of the dark sky as I hastily pull my hair from my sweaty neck and shoulders into a knot.

“Ace, I know you’re pissed—”

“I’m not pissed, Max! I’m freaking overwhelmed and a little freaked out at the moment!” I didn’t intend to yell and feel a bit surprised when my voice comes out so loud. “What in the hell was that? You went nuts!” I run a hand over my face in exhaustion. “Are you okay?” I ask, focusing my eyes on his abdomen as the visions of Max being hit flash through my mind.

“I’m fine,” Max says automatically, shaking his head. His voice rises to match mine. “Ace that guy was going to …” He stops, his eyes squeeze shut, and his head shakes as he throws both of his hands in the air. Sighing, he looks down at his shirt. It’s covered in blood spatters. He peels it off in one fell swoop and uses the inside to wipe his face and arms.

“Ace, that guy and his friends were going to hurt you.” His voice is quieter as I turn away from him. “Fuck.” His chest heaves with a deep breath as he sits beside me and props his elbows on his knees, keeping his eyes focused on the yard as though he’s expecting someone to come.