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“Hmm, he’s too short to be Alexander.”
Brent goes stiff, but he doesn’t let me go. “Ladies, could you give us a minute?”
Victoria and Rachel both glance at me, and then each other.
“Actually,” Victoria says, “We have something we really need Sophia for. So if you could—”
“Give us a minute.”
“I don’t think so,” a deep voice says.
A tall figure steps into the doorframe, and Victoria and Rachel shrink back, whispering.
“Xander, what are you doing here?” It comes out startled, even though I meant for it to come off irritated.
He ignores me, his cool glare settling on Brent. “Get your hands off of her before I break you in two.”
Brent does the opposite, tightening his arm around my waist. “Last time I checked, you don’t own her.”
“Last time I checked, neither do you, asshole.”
I try to squirm away from Brent. “I really would like you to let me go.”
Frustration flashes through his eyes, but he releases me.
Pulling me behind him, Alexander murmurs, “Get inside.”
But I stay exactly where I am, watching as he grabs Brent by the collar and slams his fist into his face. “Touch her again, and you’ll wish you’d never been born, asshole. Now fuck off.”
I should be surprised. Shocked. Horrified, even.
But instead, watching as blood trickles from Brent’s nose, I have to work to keep my relieved smile at bay.
I watch as he stalks to his car and slams the door shut with such force it echoes in between the houses.
“Looks like you dodged a bullet,” Victoria mutters from behind me.
Turning, I hug her. “Thanks for coming to my rescue. I’m glad you got my text.”
“Girlfriend, we’ve got you.” Rachel wraps her arms around both of us. “That creep was totally gonna try to kiss you.”
Alexander lets out a low growl. He’s still facing the street, watching Brent pull out and speed down the street.
“What’s he doing here?” I whisper to the girls.
Rachel shrugs. “Has a question to ask you.”
Right, because it may be my choice, but it’ll definitely be on his terms.
Rolling my eyes, I stalk inside and run up the stairs to my room. I can’t get rid of the feeling of Brent’s hands on me. My skin crawls, like I need to shower and scrub my whole body until it’s bleeding.
I throw on some sweatpants under my dress and rummage through my dresser for a shirt.
“Don’t you dare take that dress off.” Alexander’s voice is low as he steps into my room and shuts the door.
“Just because you punched a guy for me doesn’t mean I owe you anything. Fuck off.”
He flips me around and pins me against my dresser. My back digs into the handles. Maybe on a different day, I’d enjoy this. But tonight, his closeness—his downright invasion of my personal space—makes me want to throw up.
