Page 15 of Hold Me Closer
"Is that Teo Kirby?"
"Holy shit. Did Teo Kirby just get into another fight?"
"Fuck," I mutter, shouldering my way through the crowd as my heart pounds like a jackhammer against myribcage, fury still coursing through my veins with every hard thump. I want to turn right back around, snatch that little prick off the ground, and keep hitting him until I forget the look in Nadia's eyes.
For a split second, she was afraid. The moment she looked up, seeking help dealing with him, I saw the fear and anxiety in her eyes. For the first time in years, I was standing in front of her, and she was afraid.
I didn't think. I just fucking reacted.
If he didn't want me to put my hands on him, he never should have called her a bitch. He never should have threatened her.
He never should have put that look on her face.
No one threatens her, least of all some drunk prick who can't comprehend that he'll never be good enough to kiss her shoes, let alone buy her a drink.
She's so goddamn beautiful it hurts. I should have expected that. She's been beautiful every damn day of her life, but up on that stage, she was something else. Her hazel eyes were bright, her dark hair gleaming under the lights. She looked like a little fairy princess.
I've only ever seen her glow like that once—right after I kissed her. Right before I crushed her.
She was in love up there, happier than ever.
I always knew she was meant to sing. She's loved doing it her entire life, but I don't think she ever let herself believe it was something she could do for her whole life. Back then, her desire to sing was a secret she only shared with me.
She's always been so damn smart—really fucking smart. Her parents had her working with tutors by the time she was in first grade because she was so far ahead of the rest of us. Everyone thought she'd be a doctor or a lawyer or an engineer or something. Not me.
I knew she was destined to sing. I was relieved as hell when she decided to pursue music in college. I'd worried that she'd pick something she thought she should do—something to please everyone else—instead of following her heart. But she didn't. She told her parents she was going for music, and they were thrilled.
When she didn't go, I couldn't wrap my mind around it. The girl who used to dream about college like most little girls dreamed about weddings was no longer going at all? It was unthinkable.
But that stage is where she belongs.
I didn't expect seeing her on it to feel like this, though.
Christ, I can't breathe.
I shove my way out of the club into the cool night air, trying to think through the chaos swirling through my mind. She was in front of me for the first time in years, and I just fucking…walked away.
Actually, I think I ran away like a goddam coward.
She's happy. She doesn't need an asshole like me swooping in to fuck it all up for her now, and that's precisely what I'd do—fuck it up for her. It's what I did back then. I fucked it all up, sent her life into a tailspin. If she's finally pulled herself out of it, the last thing she needs is for me to suck her right back into my tornado because my life is far from together. I'm a walking disaster.
"So this is how it's going to be with you, huh?" she asks from behind me as I stride through the parking lot across the street from theRhinestone. "You're just going to keep walking away from me forever?"
I freeze midstep, her soft voice washing over me. Not even the anger in it does a damn thing to stop my body's reaction to her. My cock presses against my zipper, aching and desperate. Christ, she's the only damn thing he's ever wanted.
I may be the only twenty-four-year-old virgin left in Los Angeles. I'm positive I'm the only one left in the league. But I never could see past her long enough to see another woman. The thought of someone else's hands on me always made my fucking skin crawl. It still does.
I've been telling myself for six damn years that she isn't mine anymore—that she never really was to begin with—but my heart doesn't believe that shit. It never did. That motherfucker is loyal to her, and only her and it's dragged the rest of me along with it. Some days, I resented the hell out of it. I'm honest enough to admit that.
"Go back inside, Nadia," I say quietly.
"Don't tell me what to do, Mateo."
Fucking hell. She's always been so goddamn stubborn…
I turn to face her, my hands shoved in my pockets as if that'll convince me to keep them to myself instead of putting them all over her. I want her in my arms. I want her breath in my lungs. I just want her. Even now, that hasn't changed. I don't think it ever will.
But I'm the last damn thing she needs.
