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My eyes track Isabella’s movements as she heads for the bar and orders a drink. Once it arrives, she tosses it back, consuming it all in less than a second. After that, she makes her way to the DJ booth and says something to the guy manning it. I grit my teeth when she flashes him a flirty smile.
What the fuck is she planning?
When she showed up a couple of minutes ago, I thought I was dreaming her up. Then she spoke to me and I knew she was actually here and not some figment of my imagination. I wanted nothing more than to pull her into my lap and kiss her senseless.
Then I remembered what she said and my heart iced over. She said it to my face that she doesn’t love me. And it fucking hurt.
I take another swig of my beer, watching uneasily as Isabella moves to the center of the dance floor. She looks dangerous in the low-cut top she’s wearing paired with shorts and boots.
Fucking beautiful. And mine.
No, a voice corrects me in my mind. Not mine. Not anymore. I tip my head back and close my eyes because I can’t look at her anymore. An eruption of cheers has me raising an eyebrow. One of the guys in the VIP section taps my shoulder, prompting me to open my eyes.
“Dude, who’s the hot brunette?” he asks, pointing toward the middle of the club.
I curse under my breath when I take in the sight of Isabella dancing.
“Fuck me,” I whisper.
Nearly every eye in the club swings over to her as she sways her body to a sultry rendition of a trending song. Every cell in my body ignites as I watch her dance. I’m torn between watching and stopping her but if I do so, then she wins.
I know this is her idea of baiting me. And I have no intention of giving in. That resolution, however, dies a quick death when one of the club-goers approaches her and grabs her by the waist. I’m moving before I even have time to think about it, my vision tinged red as I stare at the both of them. The crowd parts as I head to the middle of the dance floor. Isabella turns around as I approach, blue eyes gleaming with satisfaction.
I look away from her to asshole behind her.
“Leave,” I growl.
Whatever expression he sees on my face has him gulping and scampering away. I turn to the infuriating woman in front of me and, with a groan of frustration, I haul her ass over my shoulder and carry her out of the club.
Her fists pound on my back. “Put me down, you caveman.”
“Shut up, Sunshine. You’re on thin fucking ice right now,” I grit out.
I drop her as soon as we’re outside the club. She stumbles a little once she’s on her feet before smiling at me widely in a way that makes my chest hurt.
“Now can we go home?” she asks.
I roll my eyes. “You’re a pain in my ass. Never do that again.”
“I won’t. I promise,” she says earnestly.
After a brief moment of hesitation, I call us a cab. The ride to the penthouse is mostly quiet. I have no idea why she sought me out tonight. When we arrive home, my mother rushes to meet us. Her eyes narrow on to my face.
“Where were you last night?” she snaps.
I run a hand through my hair. “I slept at hotel. Sorry, Mom. I should have called you.”
I just got so fucking sick of staying in my room and looking at the bed Isabella used to sleep beside me in. I needed an escape.
She nods before looking at Isabella at my side. “Are you two okay now?”
That’s a question I don’t know the answer to.
“We will be,” Isabella replies.
I arch an eyebrow at that. She offers my mother a small smile before taking my hand and leading me up the stairs. Trepidation fills me as we head to my bedroom. I still don’t know what she wants. She made herself pretty fucking clear the last time we spoke.
Deep down, a part of me knows she didn’t mean what she said. She was just scared. But I also know Isabella, and if I push her too hard, it’ll only make her push back. Which is why I left her alone, hoping she’d come back to me on her own.
