Page 51 of Icebound Hearts

“Or until they’re so drunk they can’t say no to another one. Or anything else,” I snap and slide the drink back at him, and although the guy scoffs, he seems to know better than to try me. He’s in good shape, but I’ve got several inches and at least twenty pounds of muscle on him, so that’s probably the right idea.

Violet seems almost totally oblivious to what just happened. She blinks and smiles at me brightly, and even though she’s totally sauced, it’s so innocent and beautiful that it’s devastating. It takes everything I have not to scoop her up in my arms and carry her out and away from all of this.

“What are you doing here?” she slurs, much louder than necessary.

“I’m taking you home,” I tell her and help her off the bar stool before she can argue.

“Aww, but the night’s just getting started,” she says in my ear, the booze on her breath strong.

“Oh yeah? How many of those have you had?”

She giggles and shrugs. “A few.”

“I’d say that’s more than enough. Come on, let’s get the other girls home too,” I say and clutch her hand tightly in mine so she can’t give me the slip or get lost in the crowd. She squeezes it tightly, and my heart squeezes at the same time. Even though she’s drunk, and a club like this is the last place I’d want to be, her hand in mine feels too fucking good.

And that scares the hell out of me.

Callie spots me first as we approach, and she taps Margo and Becca on the shoulder to point me and Violet out. The three of them abruptly stop dancing, probably because they know the party’s over, but when they get a good look at how obviously intoxicated Violet is, they don’t argue.

“Is she okay?” Callie asks over the noise of the music and the crowd.

“Good question,” I snap, probably too forcefully.

She grimaces. “Sorry. She seemed way more interested in the bartender than she did in dancing with us, so we just kind of let her be.”

“It’s not your fault. But I want to make sure you three get home safe too, so let’s wrap it up.”

“Yeah, probably a good idea,” Callie agrees and pulls out her phone.

I watch her call an Uber, but it’s going to be about fifteen minutes before the driver arrives and they’re all a little tipsy themselves, so I decide to stay with them until they’re safely piled in the car.

When they’re gone, I walk Violet the couple of blocks back to my car. She’s swaying so much that it honestly might be easier to just pick her up and carry her, but I don’t want to make a scene or embarrass her, so I hold her against my side with one arm wrapped tightly around her.

She’s noticeably warm, no doubt thanks to the booze and the heat of the packed club. Being this close to her warms me up too—in more ways than one—but I shove down my awareness of just how good she feels, tucked up against me like this.

She’s slightly uncoordinated thanks to the alcohol, so it’s a bit of a struggle to get her into the car, but we manage it without too much of a problem. When I pull the seatbelt across her chest and click it into place, I find her grinning at me. Out of the club and under the streetlights, I see how flushed her cheeks are, and I wonder just how much she had to drink—and how much more that bartender would’ve poured into her if I hadn’t shown up.

“Thank you for coming to get me,” she mumbles when I get in the driver’s seat. Her words have a slurred quality, as if her tongue is getting in the way of speaking. “I drank…” She wrinkles her nose. “Way too much.”

“How much is too much?”

Violet shrugs. “I don’t know. I wasn’t counting.”

“Are you feeling okay?”

“I’m feelinggreat,” she says, beaming and swaying a little in her seat, and I hold back a wry chuckle, because I know she probably won’t be saying that in the morning. “It was nice to be out having fun again. It’s been a long time since I did that.”

I smile at her and give her leg an affectionate squeeze. “I’m glad you had fun. But you really shouldn’t trust random guys like that.”

Her smile fades and she deflates a little, slumping in on herself.

“You’re right. I should’ve learned that lesson after Elijah,” she mumbles, looking out the window.

I don’t have a clue who Elijah is, but it doesn’t matter. I hate the sound of anyone at all hurting her, especially a man. I hope she’ll trust me enough someday to tell me about what happened, but now’s not the time to press her on it. I need to get her home, get a lot of water and some ibuprofen in her, and get her to bed.

“Are you going to be okay on the drive home?” I ask, and she nods.

“I’m notthatdrunk.”

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