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She’s wearing stylized makeup that exaggerates her cheekbones and sharpens her nose. Her long lashes are heavy with mascara, making her dark eyes look unnaturally large, like an anime character. Her full lips are painted a bland gray, so she looks like a cyborg. An unbelievably sexy cyborg.
Ana’s striking beauty in this crass party makes me sick. I have to force down the beer threatening to reverse course up my throat.
“Bryce?”
“Where’s your coat? We’re leaving.”
“Wha—”
“What the hell, Bryce,” Darren hisses beside me. “You can’t come into my house and push people around. Who the fuck do you think you are?”
“I’m the guy keeping you from a statutory rape charge.” My declaration makes everyone within hearing distance gasp. “You’ve got jailbait at your fucking party, Darren. This girl is still in high school.”
The faint music and chatter in the background grind to a halt.
“I’m eighteen,” she squeaks, sending a ripple of whispers around us.
Darren lifts his chin at me and smirks. “She’s an adult and we were just hanging out. No one’s given her a drink or brought her upstairs. So why don’t you fuck right off, asshole.”
He reaches out to wrap a paw around Ana’s wrist.
The little control I’ve exercised till now disintegrates at the sight of their hands touching.
Before he can secure his grip, I grab Darren’s forearm to push him away. He staggers back. With all my strength, I shove against his chest. Darren hits the kitchen wall so hard, the drywall gives way.
“Don’t fucking touch her,” I growl.
The rage I’m publicly expressing is strange and, as far as anyone who knows me is concerned, uncharacteristic. That’s why it takes a few minutes for people to realize we’re not just talking, we’re fighting. I’ve never once lost my temper.
My behavior is strange, but the feeling that accompanies it isn’t entirely alien. In fact, fury is the devil on my shoulder whenever I think about what other men see when they look at Ana. The unreasonableness of my anger makes me angrier.
“Get out of my house or I swear to god you’re going to wake up in a hospital,” Darren yells.
I grab Darren’s shirt, aware that his buddies are crowding closer. I couldn’t care less because I’ve got one thing on my mind: no one touches Ana, no one puts her on her knees, no one takes her hand.
But me, the raging devil in my head says.
“Stop it.” Ana’s voice is muffled, like it’s coming from the end of a tunnel. Her delicate fingers clutch my bicep and snap me back to the present.
“Please, Bryce.”
She’s beside me, pulling my arm to her chest and begging me to calm down.
“Let’s go,” I say, grabbing her elbow and stomping toward the door, groups separating to let us pass.
Ana rips herself from my grip. “I can walk on my own.”
She goes in front of me. Her ass encased in white is the perfect combination of firm and lush. I fucking hate this outfit. She should take it off so I can burn it.
Unfortunately, the thought of her removing her bodysuit nearly makes me stumble.
“Where the hell is your coat?” I bark, because being grumpy is preferable to getting aroused. I slip off my jacket to slip it over her shoulders and cover her bottom.
“I’ve got it,” says a voice from behind me. Two girls follow closely. I recognize one of them as Shawna from the robotics club.
“Who’s the jackass who invited a bunch of kids to a college party, huh? Do you have any idea how dangerous this is?” I rant once we’re all outside.
“None of us drink,” the non-Shawna companion says. “And we’re looking out for each other.”
