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“As you can see, I’m fine,” Ana pipes in and takes her jacket from Shawna. She smiles at her friend and mouths I’m sorry.
She’s sorry? She has no idea.
“You two head home. Ana, you’re coming with me,” I hiss. My jaw is locked so firmly, the muscles on my face twitch.
“No, I’m not.”
I take my phone out. “There are only two people who will drive you home tonight. Me or your brother. Should I call him?”
Resignation floods her features. Ana hugs her friends goodbye before facing me with a defiant glare. “Where’s your car?”
“I walked here. My place is two blocks away.”
“Fine.” She stomps beside me, looking ahead as if she knows where she’s going. “You didn’t have to be so dramatic, Bryce. I wasn’t doing anything illegal, and neither was Darren. He was a perfect gentleman.”
“It’s early in the night. Who knows what trouble you’d be in if I didn’t arrive when I did. And it isn’t only Darren you need to worry about.”
It’s men like me she needs to worry about. Men that see Ana on her knees and want to keep her there. The shame of arousal at the thought of Ana’s bobbing head propels my stomping gait.
“Slow down, my boots are new so they’re pinching.”
Knowing she’s in any kind of pain spikes my blood pressure. I slow down for both our sakes.
“Just when I thought we could be friends…” She trails off.
“You thought wrong. We’re not friends.”
“Clearly! And we’re not family either, isn’t that what you said?”
I ignore the hurt in her voice because this isn’t the time to explain all the ways she’s not a friend or a family member to me because, goddamn it, Ana occupies an entirely different category all by herself.
“How the hell did you end up there? Are you in with a rough crowd?”
She snickers without humor. “Shawna is the most feared robotics club president in the area, and Nora is her friend from summer aeronautics camp. We’re a real rowdy bunch, aren’t we.”
Instead of dignifying her sarcasm with a response, I point to my car.
“Can I use the bathroom before we go? You live here, right?”
I nod, unable to deny her that simple comfort even if part of me senses how dangerous it will be for her to enter my home. Not dangerous for her, but for me. Ana anywhere near my personal space is the opposite of relaxing.
Wordlessly, I lead her to a three-story building where I occupy one of the studio apartments on the first floor. When I first started college, I realized I wasn’t made to live with other people. I’m friendly enough, but this solitary haven, though simple and sparse, is just that: solitary. Maybe it’s because I’m an only child, so I never learned to share.
I see my home through Ana’s eyes. Upon entering, there’s the sole window facing the apartments behind. Under that window is a ledge that I use as an eating area. On the right is a tiny alcove that leads to the bathroom. On the left there’s a small fridge and counter for a compact stovetop. Two feet beyond is a side table and a bed.
For a girl used to luxury, my place is basically a dump. I walk to the bathroom to take a quick look before inviting her to use it. Not perfect, but it isn’t entirely embarrassing.
“There’s nothing in there that I haven’t seen before, Bryce. Unless you’re keeping someone hostage. You’re giving off serial killer vibes at the moment.”
The last thing I want is to scare Ana with my intensity. But there’s no denying that I’m coming across as low-key murderous. Unfortunately, I haven’t fully recovered from seeing her tied up by another man. If there’s anything I regret, it’s that I didn’t do more.
Should I have punched Darren? Yes. I still might, since I know where he lives. Do I want to maim every guy who salivated over Ana’s ass tonight? You bet I do. But thinking about it isn’t the same as doing it. I try to relax my shoulders and soften my expression.
“Just hurry so your brother doesn’t worr—” My vocal cords seize.
Ana is pushing down one shoulder of her bodysuit and then the other. She wiggles her svelte teenage body while pushing the thin fabric past modest hips, uncovering a fitted shirt and shorts underneath.
“What the hell are you doing?” I grumble, turning around and trying to forget the sight of pert nipples straining against flimsy fabric.
