Hayes rolled his eyes. “Different from all the other assholes who tried to fall at her feet.” He jutted his chin toward Elodie.
“Oh.” It was all I could muster.Shit. Iaman asshole.
But what the hell was I supposed to say? That Hayes was wrong? That I hadn’t spent the past twenty-four hours trying not to think about her? That the only reason I was even there, pretending like everything was fine, was because sitting next to her on that porch––being the one to support her, even in silence––felt too damn good?
Hayes chuckled again. “Yeah.Oh.”
I finished my beer and blew out a stream of breath. “I don’t know, man. There’s just something about her that ... irritates me.”
Hayes clamped a hand on my shoulder. “She’ll do that to you. But listen, I don’t want to lose a friendship over whatever”—his fingers flicked between me and Ellie—“thingthis is between you two, but you’re both adults and don’t need my permission. Just be sure and don’t hurt her.”
I could have argued with my friend—immediately told him that there was absolutely nothing going on between Elodie and me—but Hayes was a good guy and had been a friend for a long time. He deserved more than some asshole lying to his face.
I settled on a noncommittalYep, hoping it was enough to alleviate his misplaced worry.
An hour later, I clocked Elodie’s fourth shot of something hot pink and closed out my tab.
She was laughing, head thrown back, her eyes already glassy with alcohol and whatever joke Kit had just cracked. Her cheeks were flushed, her movements loose, with the kind of easy sway that told me she was well past tipsy.
There was no way in hell she was getting herself home.I scrubbed a hand over my jaw, exhaling slowly. I wasn’t looking for a reason to stay, but I’d be damned if I let her stumble through the dark alone.
Tossing a few bills on the table, I muttered a goodbye to the guys, but my attention was on the front door. Elodie was already walking out of the bar, and there wasn’t a chance in hell I was letting her go alone.
TWENTY-ONE
CALLUM
I am notdrunk enough for this.
Elodie was barefoot, her sandals long abandoned, weaving her way down the sidewalk with all the grace of a baby deer on ice. Her wrap shirt had come untied at some point, billowing out behind her like the damn Lady of the Dunes herself, to reveal the sheer lace of her bra beneath it.
My jaw locked, heat flashing through me in a way that was both completely unwelcome and entirely unavoidable.
Elodie was attempting to walk down the sidewalk with two older female companions from the bar. She swayed, a loose-limbed kind of stumble that sent her straight into one of the older women, who caught her with a laugh.
But I wasn’t laughing.
My eyes dragged back to her, to the way she was completely oblivious to what she was putting on display, to the hungry looks from a couple of drunk assholes lingering outside the Lantern.
A sharp, possessive edge swirled in my gut. She had no clue—no clue what kind of attention she was drawing, noclue how easy it would be for someone to take advantage of her like this.
One of the men nudged his buddy, nodding in her direction, and something primal snapped in my chest. I stepped forward without thinking, my entire body coiling tight as I stared him down.
Say something. Just say something so I have an excuse.
The guy must have sensed it, because he looked away real quick.
Smart.
Elodie had no clue how badly I wanted to haul her against me and cover her up—because if anyone was getting a view of what was mine, it sure as hell wasn’t going to be them.
She was still grinning when her gaze lifted, locking onto me. Her smile faltered for half a second, her brows knitting like she was trying to piece together why I was here, and why I was following.
“Mr. Blackwood,” she breathed, swaying slightly before propping a hand on her hip. “Are you stalking me?”
She squinted, blinking slowly, like she was trying to force her brain to connect the dots. Then her lips parted in dramatic realization. “Oh my god,” she gasped. “Youare. You’re totally obsessed with me.”
I crossed my arms, leveling her with a look. “I’m making sure you don’t face-plant in the middle of Main Street.”
