Page 29 of Salvaged Heart
Reading what he needed to in my expression, the guy stalked my way. He was a few inches shorter than me but had a more muscular build, tattooed arms on full display thanks to the tank that had been fashioned from an old band t-shirt. Brutish wasn’t usually my thing, but since meeting Beckham, my tastes in men had become exclusively limited to him.
“I have been trying to figure out all night if you both know you’re in love with each other.” His words were light and playful, but they activated something bitter in my chest.
“That’s a unique pickup line.”
He shrugged. “Doesn’t make a difference to me. Want to dance?”
“Sure.” Even as the word fell from my mouth, regret and fear slammed into me, only to be cemented when he slid in behind me and wrapped his strong arms around my waist, pulling me back into him. My heart raced, and my breath became short andchoppy. Panic brewed in my gut, and the sudden urge to run overcame every inch of my body.
Be cool, Anders.
There is no need to freak out.
As if sensing my sudden unease, he leaned in, pressing his lips against the skin below my ear. “It’s okay. I won’t do anything you don’t want me to.” I relaxed slightly, laying my head back on his shoulder and closing my eyes as the song changed to a slower tempo. We rocked back and forth for a moment before he added softly, “I have a feeling we will be interrupted soon anyway.”
15
BECKHAM
In the ten minutes it had taken me to fight my way to the bathroom, the bar, and back to the dance floor, the same guy I’d seen earlier checking out Anders had swooped in. They were locked together, the stranger’s arms holding Anders back tightly against his chest. One muscular hand wrapped around his waist, the other stroking up and down his thigh in slow passes while he whispered something low in his ear. Anders rocked with him to the slower song that now played. His head tipped back on the asshole’s shoulder, eyes pressed closed, lips parted in a blissful expression.
I stood completely frozen on the edge of the dance floor, my eyes locked on the pair, fighting the sudden urge to throw both sodas directly at them. A dark and wild creature was stirring in my chest, something I couldn’t explain other than the overwhelming feeling of possession.
Mine,it roared.
But that wasn’t true.
Anders was my girlfriend’s stepbrother. He was my friend. But just because some new sort of connection was formingbetween the two of us didn’t make him mine. Whatever this crazy feeling was, it was misplaced at best.
No, it was justified, I told myself.
It was coming from a place of concern, that was all. Concern that was somehow manifesting as some strange primal feeling I couldn't say I had experienced before. It was just this night, this place. The fact that for the first time since I had met Anders, his entire face was alight with a high caused by no substances at all. He was high on life. I had given him that, and this warm, rolling hurricane of emotions sweeping through me was just in response to seeing this new side of him.
Nothing more…
It couldn’t mean anything more.
I had sworn I would keep him safe, help him get sober, and bring him back to the land of the living. This stranger was threatening that. I didn’t know anything about the dude, but the fact he was at a sober event probably meant he was struggling with addiction too, and it was too soon for Anders to be involved with someone like that. Not that there was anything wrong with being a recovering addict, but the endless amounts of research I had done over the last few weeks all said that for someone new to recovery, entering a romantic relationship with someone else in recovery, no matter what stage, was a bad fucking idea.
What if this guy wasn’t clean at all?
What if he had slipped Anders something in the brief time we had been apart?
Rage simmered in my chest. If he hurt him, if he took advantage of him when Anders was finally living, when he was finally healthy and on his way back to being whole. I’d kill him.
My mind was made up before my brain could insert any logic and reason. My legs moved me across the dance floor in a beeline for the two of them. At some point, I'd gotten rid of our drinks, but I couldn’t be sure if I‘d placed them down or let themdrop to the ground. My only thought was getting to him, getting him away from this prick as quickly as possible.
The asshole saw me coming and gave Anders a gentle squeeze, brushing his lips over his ear, eyes locked on mine. “See, I told you.” He smirked, letting go and shoving Anders lightly in my direction before striding away.
I was surprised he hadn’t put up more of a fight, given the way he had been watching Anders like he was edible all night.
Smart man.
“Beck,” Anders’ hand on my chest did little to calm the fury inside me. Even though the fucker had taken the hint and disappeared quickly, a large part of me wanted to chase after him. Hunt him down to make sure he could never come after Anders again. “Beck, what in the world?” His hazel eyes searched my face, looking for some explanation for my out-of-character behavior, but I had none for him.
I was beyond reason.
“You need fresh air,” I grunted, gripping his arm a little too hard and dragging him after me away from the mass of grinding bodies.
