As I step back inside the club, the pulsating music washes over me like an invigorating wave. Desperate for some semblance of control, I make my way to the bar and ask one of the staff members if they’ve seen Zayn.
“Alpha Zayn? He’s not here yet. There was an accident on the highway, so he’s probably stuck in traffic,” the bartender informs me.
“Damn it.” I accept another drink from the bartender as I try to calm my nerves. The idea of waiting for Zayn while dealing with Boyd is less than appealing, however it looks like I don’t have many other options.
“Here you go,” the bartender says, sliding a glass toward me. “This should help take the edge off.”
“Thanks.” I take a sip in hopes it will help me keep my composure.
As I turn around, leaning against the bar and scanning the crowd, I hear Boyd’s voice cutting through the buzz of the club. My heart skips a beat, and my grip tightens around the glass. Oh, for fuck’s sake!
“Cleo, I thought you were going to the bathroom? My mother wanted to speak with you,” he says, irritation evident in his tone as he approaches.
“Boyd,” I say, struggling to keep my voice steady. “I’m not avoiding you, I’m just waiting for someone.”
“Who?” he questions, eyeing me skeptically. “I know this is all a lot to take in, and my father can be kinda pushy, but we can make this work,” he continues, and my gaze darts to the bartender who’s watching us closely.
I sigh inwardly, trying to come up with a plausible explanation. “Look, I appreciate your enthusiasm about this alliance. As I’ve told you before, I can’t marry you.”
His closeness is suffocating, and I feel the urge to flee, to find solace in Zayn’s arms—even if it’s only temporary. For now, all I can do is wait hopelessly for Zayn to get here so I can leave. Drinking the rest of my wine, I turn to the lady at the bar, who hands me another glass, leaning closer.
“He’s just pulled up in the parking lot.”I sigh in relief. Finally!
“Your father seems to think otherwise,” Boyd retorts, a smug grin spreading across his face.
“Boyd, I—” I start, and he interrupts me with a laugh.
“Relax, Cleo. I’m just teasing, we’ll figure it out,” he says, reaching out to trail a finger down my arm. The sensation repulses me, and I flinch away from his touch.
“Please don’t do that,” I snap, unable to maintain my composure any longer. My heart races in my chest, and I feel awave of heat rush through me as frustration and disgust collide within me.
“Boyd, we need—” My words falter as I try to formulate a response, before I can continue, strong arms encircle my waist, pulling me away from Boyd and spinning me around. I find myself face-to-face with Zayn, his gray eyes blazing with intensity. His presence instantly transforms the atmosphere, sending a shiver down my spine.
“Hey, baby,” he purrs, his voice low and seductive. My breath catches in my throat, and I’m momentarily frozen, shocked by his sudden appearance and the way he’s acting.
Boyd’s expression shifts from irritation to horror as he takes in the scene before him. “Wait, he’s your boyfriend?” he stammers, his composure slipping.
Zayn ignores him. “Sorry, I’m late,” he murmurs, his arm tightening around my waist possessively as he pulls me closer. I stare at him like he’s grown two heads. What does he think he’s doing?
The heat of his body seeps through the fabric of my dress, igniting a fire within me I struggle to control. My face flames, knowing Boyd is watching this display. It’s the complete opposite of the shudder I feel at Boyd’s touch.
Zayn’s eyes hold mine, some unsaid message in them, when he leans closer, burying his face in my neck. He groans, his hand sliding down my back to grab my ass. My heart races, threatening to burst from my chest as Zayn takes control of the situation in a way that’s both exhilarating and terrifying.
“Zayn,” I manage to whisper, my voice barely audible.
“Play along,” he whispers below my ear, and I barely hear him over the loud music.
He pulls back, brushing his nose against mine gently, and then his hand grips my chin, tilting my face up to his. I can feel the heat radiating off his body and the scent of his colognemingling with his natural addictive scent. It’s intoxicating, and I find myself unable to look away from his piercing gray eyes.
And then, without warning, his lips are on mine.
The kiss is searing, electric, like a bolt of lightning straight to my core. His tongue teases my lower lip seeking entrance, snapping out of my shock at his actions, I grant it willingly, letting myself get lost in the feel of his tongue brushing softly against mine.
When he pulls away, all I can do is stare at him.
“Does that answer your question?” Zayn asks Boyd, who looks utterly baffled.
“Y-yeah,” Boyd stammers, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “I guess it does.”
